TALES FROM THE GHETTO: “YOU CAN PUT THE BLAME ON ME”

We thought it was best to get home as soon as we could, and park the car before Michael’s father returns. I could have sworn there was a Police checkpoint at the exit side of Liverpool Bridge, but for some weird reasons, the Policemen were not there when we were leaving Apapa. If we would have gotten home before Michael’s dad, the several stops to refill the car’s radiator obstructed our plans. At a point, we used a 25litre rubber, meant for fuel, to fetch water along the road. This has got to be my most dramatic day ever.

TALES FROM THE GHETTO: FROM FRYING PAN TO FIRE

Three days after, my back was still aching from my dad’s whiplashes; whose bright idea was koboko anyway? I probably wouldn’t have been flogged if my eyes weren’t bloodshot and my speech impeded at the same time. My dad only pointed at his almighty koboko (horsewhip) on the wall for Michael to crack; giving the most detailed confession of all time. I couldn’t blame him, though. Everybody in the neighborhood knew my dad was a no-nonsense disciplinarian. The thought that he was going to flog the three of us if we didn’t confess, was enough to make Michael talk. I knew I was doomed when my dad signaled to the door and asked my friends to go home. “Tell your parents what you did before I get to your houses”, my dad said and then locked the door after them.

TALES FROM THE GHETTO: THE BLUNT TRUTH

My name is Innocent Oghenekome. I’m from Delta State but was born and raised in Lagos. I come from a very good home. My parents are Christians. My dad was the best at ‘spoiling the cane and sparing the child’. The black marks on my buttocks are credited to him. Even at that, children will grow up and the environment will always play its role. Every Tuesday, I’ll be sharing stories of my growing up in the ghetto with you. Enjoy the read.