One day monkey enter market, e no come back again. It was a Christmas day and we slaughtered one goat. My dad had a personal tradition to give something to his non Christian friend during Christmas. Unknown to us, the goat meat that was fried and kept somewhere in the kitchen was it. As usual, we went and reduced the life out of it until, the evening when dad decided to drive down to his house. He asked mum to get it packaged. My mum got to the kitchen and screamed. The meat didn't look the same and now, she could actually see the knife and teeth cut here and there. She went straight to my dad and showed him. Dad called all three of us and brought out his three mouthed koboko that migrated with us from sokoto. My sisters, you go fear confession and pointing fingers at each other nah. He didn't even listen. That day, I received the beating of my life. I find cry, I no fit cry. I go open mouth but, no sound came out. Doors were locked. So, anywhere I ran to, my dad would follow and the beating na per seconds. He was very hard on me because, na me be first born and should have known better but, who first born epp at that time when, I was barely 12years old?
After that beating, if I jam meat wey dey try to stray, I dey beg am to conform inside pot o because, the fear of God has been put in me. No meat can tempt me. Greater is the willpower that is in me than, the meat that is outside.