Koo Lupe: The Story of a Christmas Goat

I was deep into sleep when I heard voices at the entrance of our pen. I stirred, stretched and was about to drift off again when,

“I want that one, the big one with the orange brown fur." a strange voice said.

"That one comes with a different price." I knew without any doubt whose voice that was.

At this point, I was no longer stirring. I had become alert, ears wide open but pretending to be asleep.

Good heavens! It is that time of the year again. The village kids have been weeding their usual spot and preparing to put up their (bronya Apata) Christmas huts. Although I have not said anything to my younger siblings and cousins, I've been nervous watching them prepare.



“How much?” the stranger asked.

“One hundred cedis.” replied Egya Ofori pronounced Gyafori.

“I will take it” the strange voice came back.

Good heavens now fully woke and highly alert, it dawned on me that the big orange brown one is me. The two men are in negotiations over my sale. My heart started to beat fast, really fast, then suddenly it sunk right into my stomach. Unwillingly I began to bleat. Tears began to form in my eyes. Oh no, not again! These humans, why can't they just leave us alone? Why?

I opened my eyes then, the strange man had reached out an arm to my owner, in his hands was a wad of cash for my head. I have been sold. I knew it. As soon as the thought hit me, I stood up. Mother and the others seemed oblivious to what was going on.

I braced myself and began to hatch a plan. I knew what would be coming next. Gyafori would take the money and say

“Wait, I'm coming.” and leave.

He would go up the top of the corn dryer and get a nylon rope of three strands, create a wide-open ring around one end and make a cross over pull for tightening. He would come into the pen and throw the ring side of the rope on to the neck of the sold goat and pull it tight. He would then drag the protesting goat out of the pen and hand over the reins of the rope to the buyer. I've seen it happen so many times, as far as I've been old enough to understand. I am not going to stand here meekly for him to do that to me. I wanted to jump the pen but it is high and because of my weight I am not agile enough on my feet to suspend for long in the air. Gravity will pull me down. So, I made a quick decision, my best bet was to remain alert. As soon as the pen gate was opened, I will escape. It was the only way. Once the rope fall around my neck and is tightened, I would have no chance of getting away. Heart pounding, I dug my heels and waited.

Truly truly it happened just as I know it. As soon as I saw Gyafori returning I was ready to run. Just about two meters walk or so before he reached the pen gate and swang it open, I screeched. I did not lose a second. I sped out. I don't think Gyafori saw it coming. I run as far as the pathway to the cassava farm before I stopped to think. I had to hide or leave the village but where?

I come from the small village of Binkyeem (obi nkyɛn mu), 25 minutes’ drive from Duayaw Nlwanta in the Ahafo region. My village has a human population of less than fifty inhabitants. My owner and other families live in mud huts thatched with straw (Atta Kwame kind of architecture) if you are familiar with that kind of superior architecture. Binkyeem has no access to electricity or potable water. It has no social amenities either. Despite this, it is green and beautiful. The air is fresh, and the community is tight knit. Everyone knows everybody and their roots. My family and I belong to the Oforis, the richest family in the community. Gyafori owns my family of 11 goats. Although my mother does not call my siblings and I by names, however, the young Oforis call us by names. They call me Koo. Till date I do not know why. According to my mother we are 10th generation in line to my "goancesters". We are the largest family of the goat population in Binkyeem. At the count on my huff tips, we the goats of Binkyeem number about 19.

We would have been about twenty-six goats in total but two fell ill and died, while five were sold Last Christmas. Gyafori feeds us well during the year then towards Bronya, depending on the market, he sells some of us off. That is how come I've been up here on the roof top of this van under scorching sun for the last seven hours or so from Binkyeem with no water or food. I've been up the roof of this car since morning. I feel weak and exhausted. The stranger has not looked my way since he tied me up here in the morning. I have been in and out of sleep throughout the journey, mainly out of parched throat and hunger but also to avoid feeling more miserable than I already am. My mind keeps going back to the trauma of being caught after I had successfully escaped.

I'm up here because after I got away, I couldn't decide quickly enough on my next move. So of course, the entire village came out on a search for me after word got round I had broken bounds. Yes, they caught me, but I sure gave them a good chase. I did my best. I hid under a thicket for a good hour before that wretched little boy saw me. You see, I did not want to leave a bad reputation for the family to contend with. That I run away is cowardly but worse my family may have been locked in the pen for who knows how long and not be allowed out to move freely. I did not want to be the reason for their suffering.

When Kwame Nti found me hidden in the thicket and blew the alarm, I instinctively bolted without thinking. I run around, up and down the village for more than an hour as the villagers chased after me. At least if I was being sent away, the least I could do was to give the boys something to talk about. One of them took a heavy fall during the chase and from what I gathered got more than a scraped knee. " Haa haa haaa" that ought to teach him. Frankly a goat my size can't run around too long. I short of breath easily; besides I couldn't run forever. I run out of places to run to. Still, they caught me because I let them. I knew the attention I had taken had prevented my family from being let out. I knew they must have been as hungry as I was. So, I simply stopped running and laid down for them to take me. They called me names afterwards, rascal for example, but I didn't care. Two strong boys carried me by my legs and sent me to Gyafori. He immediately got the blue rope, put it around my neck and tightened. He must have been annoyed with me because he pulled it a bit too tight. Perhaps to punish me for being rebellious.

He handed me over to the stranger who had obviously been waiting to take me away. The stranger took the rope from Gyafori. He looked down and smiled at me. I looked away, disgusted. He walked me out of the village on the narrow path that led to the wide road with no weeds which the big trucks drive on. On the side of which, facing in the direction out of the village was parked a rickety minivan. Another stranger who was sitting in the front seat came out to help get me tied up to the carrier on the roof. That is how the journey out of my home began. The early morning event had been too much for me, so I laid down. I began to fall off as the cool breeze of the fast-traveling wind from the movement of the van hit my eyes. I must have slept for a long time.

I first woke to the sound of Accra cra cra craaa!! I opened my eyes, took a long stretch, whimpered and stood up. The first sights that met me had my head reeling for minutes. There were an uncountable number of people, so many milling around in different directions. The buildings were different from what I am used to. Tall, short, wide, different shapes and colours too. The cars were just as many, uncountable. They were moving right on the tail of each other on black roads not brown. There was smoke in the air instead of dust. The air stunk of burnt rubber tyres, very much unlike that of Binkyeem's. The sight and sounds were out of this world, at least the world I knew. I had never heard so much noise in my life. There were thousands of different sounds thrown together and playing out all at the same time. My ears began to ring. How do these humans cope with such? Suddenly, I missed the peace and serenity of Binkyeem, my eyes welled up and I began to bleat and kick uncontrollably. This must have annoyed the stranger greatly because he stuck his head out the window and shouted at me to quiet down! I did not mind him. I kept bawling and pounced up and down the roof as far as the rope allowed for a good long while. Then I heard several other human voices protesting at the racquet I was causing, obviously irritated by it. I ignored their rants and kept kicking even more loudly as I hauled myself into the air. Of course, I couldn't get anywhere as any hard attempts would have been suicidal. The rope on my neck could very well strangle me. I went on for a bit while then stopped as suddenly as I began. Hunger, it just hit me. I was hungry, very hungry. My stomach cramped. Nothing had gotten into it since I woke, except the few laps of water I took at the pond just after my escape.

Heart pumping hard from exhaustion I laid down and shut my eyes tightly. I wanted to imagine the nightmare away. So I went in and out of sleep as we travelled hundreds of kilometres through many towns and cities away from Binkyeem.

I presume our destination was Accra as a particular voice yelled out repeatedly whenever someone got off the van. People got on and off the van the whole time we travelled, very strange behaviour. That was pretty much the way things rolled until we arrived at the place, I presumed to be Accra.

I figured it must be Accra because everyone got off the van and the voice stopped calling out A'cra cra craaa! The driver, that is the stranger who bought me parked the van in a big yard full of big busses and mini vans just like the one I travelled on.

It was sundown. I was hoping I would be untied and let down after everyone got off, but it wasn't to be. My new owner went away from the van for some time and returned with a woman carrying a tray full of foodstuffs on her head. He took the load and put it in the van before driving us out of the yard. By now the hunger pangs have totally disappeared. I was no longer hungry, just tired and missing home.

Not long after we left the yard full of cars my new owner stopped in front of the biggest house I've ever seen and honked loudly. A man came to open the wide gate and my new owner drove through all the way to the end of the driveway. He called out for the gateman to come help him take me down. I allowed them to untie and carry me down without a fuss.

The gateman pulled in a direction I did not want to go. I wanted to bolt but where to? Besides I was tired so bleated in mild protest as he led me to a spot opposite a small backyard garden. It was obvious the place had been specially prepared for me. There was a plate of food, fresh cassava peel sitting on the ground with a bowl of the clearest water I've ever seen. Water so clear I could see my face in it. The water from the pond in Binkyeem is not as clear as this one. It is usually brown and muddy. The gateman tied me to a metal pole close by my dinner. Then called out, " the goat is here boys!"

I settled down and helped myself to many laps of water. Before I could finish drinking water three kids rushed out of a door at the house, I had not taken note of earlier on.

Aponkye goat! One yelled, came close and stamped her feet in front of me in an attempt to scare me. It worked. I was startled. Another one reached out and pulled my horns.

“Hey, let's name her Lupe. I think she looks like Lupe in Ferdinand the movie.” he told the others.

I was annoyed. I'm not a she. I bleated. He took no notice.

The third squat in front of me. Eyeball to eyeball he looked at me and said in a soft voice.

“Hello Mr Christmas goat, you are welcome to Glory Villa.” he smiled at me and passed his hands down my back. Although brief, it felt good. The boys played around me for a while. referring to me as Lupe. I wanted to tell them I've always been known as Koo and I have been fine with it. But of course, I couldn't. So Lupe I had become.

Night fell. The kids left me to go inside. I had managed to take a few bites of my dinner while they circled around me. I missed home. This is the very first time my entire life I'm alone. I felt lonely. The cool hamattan breeze did not help either. I laid down and thought of home.

I don't recall falling off. I must have slept deeply as a result of exhaustion from yesterday's long journey to Accra. It's daybreak, the gateman just woke me. I felt the rope being untied from the pole. I knew it was time. I did not protest. I calmly allowed him to lead me into the garden. From what I see around him I have no doubt he is also the butcher. He had already prepared a place for me. I see a small hole about a metre from where I stood, freshly dug. I know I'm the reason for that hole. Next to it was a gleaming sharp knife.

He tied my four legs, two together and laid me on my side. I closed my eyes and thought of Binkyeem. I thought of mum, my cousins and my human playmates, the little boys in the village. Surprisingly. I felt  glad.

I've always known it was for this very reason I was born, to be someone's dinner. I opened my eyes and looked up at the sky. It was as blue and clear as that of Binkyeem. It calmed me. Feeling peaceful, I closed my eyes again and waited for the butcher to do his job. Here I am, about to fulfill my purpose of being a Christmas goat.