Fifty Strokes

When we were young, we think as child, always craving for the next sugar to consume without knowing its Growth importance. Now am astonished how i have grown seeing myself in the Mirror with the perfect skin and looks, with so much endowment both front and back to the make the whole world to knee down to me. This will make me so powerful but i have to be careful, which can be sometimes intoxicating to do what i never bargained. just like me, many are suffering from these power intoxication, ready always to exert wickedness, their eyes is now hot red ready to punish,consume and destroy like the few strokes of cane that was dished on me on my birthday or like the terrible hot water that was poured on my nice body and her life never remained the same. Fifty Strokes is a story that would give you a strong heart of self determination, which ikenga overcame.

Chapter 1***************************************

The once prestigious orthodox custom introduced by forefathers of

IKENGA community, the fifty strokes, it gleam with apogee of

discipline and prosperity, but was used as an arbiter of bully.

Like a rain cavort on the streets and hallowed into flood, at first

afterglow but agglomerate appalling. The great abound of thief’s in

IKENGA community, which looked Alice in wonderland although not

canard. There was no schism among forefathers, so relented to enact

fifty strokes.

It was pleasant flogging correction into me. I can still remember, the

whip of strokes, it made me crow like a new born baby waiting to

suck its first milk. I begged like a man held at gun point and almost

made me brawl my father. I had several opportunities to earn me, my

first fifty strokes but I was arsey. My mother was always vigilant to

see me bloop, but I was clever. My father whips very hard, just like my

headmaster, he whips with strength and earned him much hate from

his students, but can’t be compared to the one received at the hand of

a priest.

The priest is a gentle old man, honoured with bundles of long thin

canes. It was used to whip offenders and law breakers. It was not just

a long thin cane, but has been blessed by gods of the land. As the long

thin cane comes down from the hand of the priest, the accused is tied

to a long wooden bench at the palace, waiting for the king arrival, so

the fifty strokes gets delivered on the back and buttocks of the

accused.

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