THE PREGNANT WOMAN WHO ATE GRASS

It started as a joke. Everyone in the neighborhood laughed when they heard that Moyo, a pregnant woman of eight months, had developed a strange craving for grass. Yes-real green grass. At first, her husband Tunde thought it was one of those pregnancy cravings women get-like eating charcoal or licking sand-but this was different. Moyo didn't just crave grass; she devoured it like a starving goat. Every morning, she would sit in the backyard with a large bowl of freshly cut grass, her colorful wrapper barely covering her huge belly, and eat it with a strange hunger that frightened even the birds.

Tunde tried to stop her countless times. "Moyo! You're embarrassing me!" he shouted one afternoon as he found her chewing a handful of grass while humming softly to herself. "People are talking! What will the neighbors say?" But she only looked up at him with wide eyes and said, "I can't help it, Tunde. The baby... the baby won't let me rest until I eat." Her voice shook, and there was fear in her tone-not madness, not foolishness-fear.

That night, Tunde couldn't sleep. He sat by the edge of their bed watching his wife toss and turn, her hands clutching her belly as if something inside was moving violently. "It's hungry again," she whispered in the dark. "It wants me to feed it." He tried to calm her, saying it was just a dream, but when he reached to touch her stomach, something strange happened-something moved beneath her skin, not like a normal baby's kick but a long, slithering motion, like the crawl of a snake.

Tunde jumped back, his heart pounding. "Moyo, what was that?" She turned to him slowly, tears streaming down her face. "I told you," she whispered, "something inside me is not normal."

The next morning, things got worse. Moyo woke up early, went outside, and started eating grass again-but this time, not the soft kind. She pulled out wild, bitter weeds from the corners