“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want…”Psalm 23:1
My father is not a shepherd, at least, not in the dictionary sense of it. He is a business man and he deals in cement, not sheep. In fact, he has no sheep at all and the half dozen or so goats that can usually be found roaming about our big compound in Isale Eko are more like pets than well, goats! No matter the number of goats in the compound, my father made sure each one had a name. Everyone on the street knew about Baba Laisis the cement merchant who named his goats. Long before the sun came up every morning, even before the calls to prayer came from the mosque four houses down, my father would see to his goats, making sure they had food and water. Only after that would he get ready to go to his shop at Ita-Garawu market. It seemed like the goats came first for him. Me and my seven brothers would grumble and moan whenever it was our turn to clean out the goat pens or if we had to do the feeding for any reason. We often had fights over the cleaning roaster and we would usually bully our four sisters into doing most of the work. The only form of relationship I had with those goats was an eating-relationship. For all the fuss me and my siblings made over taking care of the goats, we loved them because their presence meant that every festival was a meaty one in my compound. I bet the whole street loved my father’s goats for the same reason! The good thing about having eight boys, four girls and two wives in one family was that there was never a dispute about who to slaughter the goats or who would skin or cut it up and most importantly, who would cook and fry it. Talk about the most effective division of labour!
Whenever my father was home, he would spend time with his goats, talking quietly with each one like they could understand him and to an extent, I think they could. Of all the goats, the one I would never forget was Yekini. He was the oldest and the biggest of the goats and he was a natural bully. You can bet it wasn’t just the other goats he bullied! He had a mean face (and a temperament to match it!), with his vicious horns and long beard! I lost count of the many gorgings I endured at the hands, or should I say horns of Yekini ages ago. He was a law unto himself, strutting around his little kingdom with the adoring females flocking around him and the cowering males making themselves scarce. It was also obvious that my father loved Yekini very much and that he was my father’s favourite. Sometimes I even wondered if my father loved the bloody goat more than me, I mean, why did I have to be Lasisi and the goat Yekini?!!! Yekini sounds so much more sexy!!! L Yekini’s annoying braying woke us up every morning; there was no way to lock out the annoying sound. Once Yekini woke up, no one else slept! Soon we found out that a handful of salt was all that was needed to shut his royal majesty up! Don’t ask me ABOUT the physics of how that works; you want a moment of peace, get the salt!
So, one fateful day, we all slept past dawn. My father woke us up grim faced and we all feared the worst, that Yekini had keeled over and died (not that we all hadn’t wished for that several times) right before Sallah. Why couldn’t he have ended up in the pot instead?! However, the trail of salt from the goat pen to the gate of the compound told the whole story: Yekini was going to make it into the pot that Sallah after all, it just wasn’t going to be ours! The search for Yekini proved futile, no one on the street had seen or heard anything. It was then that I started to really get a grasp of the relationship my father had with his goats. It went beyond rearing goats that taste good or even about having something to kill during all the numerous sallahs. It was more than just having pets or indulging in a hobby. I remembered when one of the goats had wandered from home and had fallen into the public pit latrine. My father personally got it out with a rope, poop and all. My father cared deeply about each one of his goats and he mourned the loss of Yekini, it felt more like he’d lost a good friend. Somehow, it made us all sober up and we started to see the goats a lot differently.
Two days before sallah, my father and I went to the next street to pay one of the shop owners, Salau, a visit before heading off to Ita-Garawu. The man had been ill and hadn’t been to his shop for a few days. No sooner had my father entered the compound and called out a greeting to Salau than a flurry of fur and horns came bounding from the rear of the compound! Instinctively, I took to my heels! Yekini’s last gorging was still fresh on my mind, there was no way I was letting any other crazy goat knock the breath out of me! Salau came out of his house when he heard all the confusion and asked why my father was trying to steal his goat! From my safe spot on the roof of Salau’s derelict pick-up truck, I saw the goat nuzzling my father’s legs, braying his head off! If anyone was doing any stealing, it was the goat trying to steal my father!
“Yekini!” my father exclaimed.
“Meeehhhhh!!!” the goat replied!
“This is my goat!” My father said to Salau. “What is Yekini doing here?!”
“Meeeehhhhh!!!” the goat replied to its name again!
“What do you mean?!” Salau challenged. “I bought this goat for Sallah!”
“But I know my goat!” my father continued. “He’s got the funny patch of grey in his beard and can you see the slight limp he walks with?! Yekini ree ke!”
“Meeehhhhh!!!!!” chorused Yekini!
Wonders really would never end! The goat was Yekini!!! And come to think of it, now that my father mentioned it, Yekini did have a slight limp, I had always thought the mean thing was strutting! I came down from the truck and took a good look, I never thought the day would come when I would be happy to see that goat, I had actually missed it!
“Limp my foot!” Salau retorted. “I want you to leave my compound at once!”
“Yekini!” I exclaimed in wonder. The goat spared me a mean look before it continued to nuzzle my father’s legs.
“Who did you buy the goat from?” my father asked Salau.
“That is none of your business, leave my house now!” Salau snapped.
But Yekini wasn’t going to let us leave him behind! He stuck to my father’s side and every time my father spoke, he interrupted with his meeehhhhh which sounded more like yeahhhhhh to me! To cut the long story short, Yekini settled the whole issue. It was obvious to the Imam who was called in to settle the dispute that Yekini belonged to my father because he knew my father well enough and even recognised my father’s voice. In fact, it was the sound of my father’s voice that had brought the goat bounding out in the first place that fateful morning.
…the sheep listen to His voice. He calls His own sheep by name and leads them out…His sheep follow Him because they know His voice…I know my sheep and my sheep know me… John 10:3-4, 14
So, people, learn a thing or two from Yekinni the goat, know your Shepherd! Take your relationship with the Shepherd beyond food and shelter and all the other trivial things that crowd our minds. Do you listen to your Shepherd’s voice? Do you even know His voice?! Even if like Yekini, you get led away for a little pinch of salt, will you still be able to retrace your steps at the sound of your Shepherd’s voice? Will you stick with him and refuse to budge even when the thief threatens to throw Him out? Truth is if you do not have that much of a relationship with Him, then sorry mate, he a’int your shepherd and if He a’int your shepherd then you shall not not-want. Don’t expect that psalm to apply to you if you don’t have a relationship with the Shepherd, if you won’t go beyond just being a part of the crowd, just being another warm bum on the pews, if you won’t really listen to His voice or be led by Him. And if you can’t manage to get past the first two lines of that psalm, don’t even bother about the plenty-plenty things that follow in the other verses! Get to know Him intimately…or else, you’ll end up in sumborry’s pot of Sallah soup! :D
