When I was 10 or 11, my grandmother gave us a goat for a Christmas present. We took the goat with us from Ibadan, all four of us excited. It had to stay in the boot for the duration of the journey, and we kept worrying if it had enough air. While driving, we decided on a name for him. We decided on Billy. Billy was a she though, and we put her in our BQ. Finally, we had a pet of our own, we'd always wanted a dog, but Billy would do just fine.
Billy was such a sweet goat, she ate grass from our hands, stood on two hooves on our chest, was just perfect! She was white, with black spots, and had two outgrowths from her neck that looked like tiny bells. Billy had Betty, about a year later (she was probably pregnant when we got her). Betty was white with brown spots. Later, Billy had Bobby; I don't remember how that happened. He was a light brown colour and it was immediately obvious that it was a he goat (apart from his organs); he just looked very masculine, for a goat. How I loved those goats. I remember my best friend T teasingly calling Billy my sister, when we only had her. These animals affected even my parents.
We totally loved those goats, and didn't even mind too much having to clean after them. They totally rubbished the BQ, practically tearing down the door of the room where they lived, and inspecting all the other rooms, obviously leaving behind evidence, :)
Knowing Naija parents, I guess you know what came next. Billy was the first to go. Then went Bobby. We kids cried our eyes out and were inconsolable for a while. We ended up eating some of the meat later though - its sort of macabre sha. Betty had twins, which we had to give away, because my parents had had enough. Betty was the last to go.
Billy was such a sweet goat, she ate grass from our hands, stood on two hooves on our chest, was just perfect! She was white, with black spots, and had two outgrowths from her neck that looked like tiny bells. Billy had Betty, about a year later (she was probably pregnant when we got her). Betty was white with brown spots. Later, Billy had Bobby; I don't remember how that happened. He was a light brown colour and it was immediately obvious that it was a he goat (apart from his organs); he just looked very masculine, for a goat. How I loved those goats. I remember my best friend T teasingly calling Billy my sister, when we only had her. These animals affected even my parents.
We totally loved those goats, and didn't even mind too much having to clean after them. They totally rubbished the BQ, practically tearing down the door of the room where they lived, and inspecting all the other rooms, obviously leaving behind evidence, :)
Knowing Naija parents, I guess you know what came next. Billy was the first to go. Then went Bobby. We kids cried our eyes out and were inconsolable for a while. We ended up eating some of the meat later though - its sort of macabre sha. Betty had twins, which we had to give away, because my parents had had enough. Betty was the last to go.
I'll never forget my darling goats, and especially Billy. Thinking about them evokes wonderful memories of all the innocence and carefree happiness of my childhood, of a time when all was perfect, to mind.
4 comments:
such a delightful story. you've gone and set me adrift on memory bliss now - recalling those more innocent times in the naija i once knew. how did it all go so wrong?
A female friend of mine had a pet goat growing up in Naija and we teased her endlessly and she was in floods of tears when it was ahem sent to the slaughter. We on the other hand watched eagerly, not because we were sadistic but watching goats being killed and then feasting on the meat was part of the highlights of our christmas
So you ate BILLY??????? Ouch!
Lollll...
Hey guys thanks for your comments. @frances,I also wonder how it all went so wrong!!
jaycee, its really ouch - thats nigeria for you. See uknaija not even flinching at all lol
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