ON: Witch Hunting

Growing up was a whole lot of fun. We lived in a large compound that housed six families with an average of two children per flat. There was never a dull moment…well, except for when our parents forcefully kept us inside. We would Invent various kind of games during the day and converge for meetings at night like the witches of west end. My father one day made the mistake of telling my siblings and I, “if you see lizard, kill it. If you see wall gecko, kill it.” Everything to him was demonic. Cockroaches. Lizards. Cats. Spiders. Name it.  Thus begun the witch hunt. We would spot a lizard strolling back home on its own and we would stop at nothing just to see it dead. One faithful day, I found myself positioned in the wrong place. The stone that my brother meant for poor Mr Lizard landed on my face, just above my eyes. I saw red. Literally. My brother did all he could to pacify me as my voice had gone several notes higher. Eventually, we dragged ourselves to grandpa who was with us at that time. Grandpa, God rest his soul, then took me to the clinic to have my wound treat. I quit lizard hunting from that day on simply because, the fear of blindness is the beginning of wisdom. Probably not the kind of witch story you expected but hey, all na witchcraft. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

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