“Whipping Beast” by Ato Kwamena Bentsil.

Pinkrah could see little. He was dazed by the hefty ball of ‘banku’ he had devoured five minutes earlier; a size for people five years  older than he. Unsteady in his bearing and semi-concious, he made his way slowly to the couch in the living room. He had yet to take his evening bath but had managed to eat supper without his mother knowing.  Good graces! He perched himself somewhere on the couch and started to dream.

At one point in his dream he was laughing himself silly at his mum. Then out of no where a beast on two legs and with a whip started chasing him around his compound. Strangely though, the beast had his mother’s voice and was threatening a lot of things he couldn’t properly make out. His legs couldn’t move him at the pace he wanted to and soon the beast had caught up with him. The first strike of the whip scourged his rather tiny legs sending a sharp pain through his heart. He determined to run even faster.  The second stroke caught him hard on his head and jerked him into reality.

The beast in his dreamland had made its way into reality and not only did it have his mother’s voice but also his mother’s face. In a flash he was wide awake, his twelve-year old  head pounding from the pain of the whip. He didn’t  gather his thoughts fast enough and the third stroke came down hard across his back. ‘kaaaaaiiiiisshh….’ he shrieked in terror. His hand clasping and rubbing his back rigorously as he run away to the bathroom away from his fuming mother.

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