We could barely pay for our tuitions in school. There were times when we were sent home for not meeting up to one one financial commitment or the other. It really made dad unhappy and disappointed that he could not afford to provide for his family as he ought to.

On this particular day,
I and Tola had gone for dance rehearsals as usual. It was a Sunday and the troupe had an outing in the coming week so rehearsal was quite intensive and those who were to perform at the event were selected. By the time we finished, it was already past 9pm and we went home on foot since we had no money to afford a taxi or motor cycle.

As we entered the House, dad was already waiting for us in the parlor with his cane and started flogging Tola even before we could say "good evening". The first cane broke, same as the second, the third and the last cane too but dad wasn't pacified yet. He had locked mum in one of the rooms so that she wouldn't interfere. I stood frozen at the door, weeping and wondering what had turned my loving father to such a beast. All this while, he never laid a finger on me. He went into his room and reappeared with two of his belts to continue from where he stopped. When I realized that the first belt had torn to shreds and that Tola was rolling in a pool of his own tears with no one to help, I yelled and called out to mum to come to his aid but I had only succeeded in shifting the party to myself.

HAVE YOU READ: HOW I FOUND CHRIST - PART 1

Dad entered the room again and this time, he came out with the infamous "Koboko". He kicked My brother aside and made for me. That was the first time I was ever flogged in my life and it had to be with a Koboko of all things! As each stroke hit me, I screamed, wept and begged him but he didn't stop. Mom was already crying and shouting, telling him not to kill her children for her. Instead of listening to her, dad went into his room to bring the second Koboko and just as the thought came to my mind, I quickly unlocked the door and bolted out of the house - and out of the compound.

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I kept running and crying for close to an hour before I realized that I was quite far from home. I  was at the bus stop at that unholy hour. Everywhere was unusually empty. We had passed through this road as a family when returning from mum's chemist store by 12pm and it was usually bubbling with activities at that time so what was different about today?

In the midst of these thoughts, I sighted a procession of men clothed in white apparel a with the one one in front holding a calabash.

"oh no!" 

"how could I forget?? An Oba (King In Yoruba land) had died the "Oro Festival" had to be held before he would be buried. I had always heard that virgins were used for sacrifices, some buried alive with the deceased king to serve him in the world beyond and women were forbidden from setting eyes on the men during the proceedings.

I hid myself behind the tables in front of one of the shops there until the men passed, after which I began to trek from Ejigbo to Ikeja. As I knocked at the gate and entered my Uncle's house, I smiled and I commended myself for my courage and smartness. 

I met Aunty  Reen in the parlor watching a late night show. I narrated everything to her and went to sleep as I had become very exhausted from my bitter adventure. As early as 7am the next morning, Tola came to take me back home but I refused to go with him. Dad called and threatened but I had made up my mind. At last, mum had to pack my bags and had Tola bring them to me at Ikeja.

Alas! I would have peace, away from all the bitterness, lack and strife at home...........or so I thought!!!