This beating brouhaha reminds me of a fateful sunday when I was a kid. My friend and I left All Souls' Church Bodija to get our bikes from our respective homes. He had a BMX, I had a chopper, life couldn't be better than that. The da_ went by with us pulling stunts

Exchanging bikes and all the works. We felt no hunger, we weren't thirsty and definitely did not get tired. The notice to go home came with the sky going dark, we immediately went our separate ways knowing we had overdone things.

By the time I rode into the compound, cars had turned on their headlights as it was dark already. I parked the bike and went in. Everybody knew I had arrived and had been banished to their rooms.
My mum welcomed me and asked what I would like to eat as I would be famished.

The Ekiti woman she is, I knew that my pounded yam and egusi from lunch would be cold but I was still considerate enough to ask for an already cold meal.
The angel that is my mother warmed up the food while I sat at the table, didn't even cross my mind to find everybody.

She served me and asked if I would like a bottle of Tandi or Dr Pepper, I chose Tandi. She left me to my now piping hot meal and I dove in. It was delicious and surprisingly even the pounded yam tasted fresh out of the "odo".
While licking my fingers between morsels, mama came in

Locked the door behind her and beat me to the point that I lost all the taste in my mouth, I managed to open the door and ran to my father's feet, but as much as each stroke made him heave a sigh, I wasn't getting out of this one. It was much later i realized the only reason he

Was reading a newspaper at night was because as much as he couldnt bear the beating, he had to allow this because even he couldn't fathom why I would be hale and hearty and put them through all the trouble hey had gone through looking for me.

My mum promised that their would be at least a scar to show my kids but God wiped my skin, man fresh die.
Point is, I have kids and at the core i believe they can be reasoned with and not be beaten. Still, using my own case, i deserved it. There may have been other ways

Of dealing with me and the situation but she used the one she's conversant with and I learnt my lesson. I do not think I ever got beaten after that day, and it's not because I became holy but having satisfied herself, she must have hated how she felt after and retired from the

Beating gang.
I am not in the position to judge a father or his son but to each his own.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk.