While I had finally settled and
taking up my first book, I heard a sound. It was not just a sound, it was a
wield sound. It came softly at first, and then it gained momentum. It was a
strong strange sound that indicated the mixture of agony with sorrow. The
producer of that sound was certainly in some trouble, or so I thought. For a
moment, the sound stopped and I brought down my hand which had hanged in midair
the whole time and retreated from my still motion. But then, the sound was back
again, this time with more force than the earlier. It was alarming, ear
blocking. What can be making this manner of sound this late, I wondered.
Whatever it is must be in big trouble, and I am born to help. So I stood up
from my seat instantly, picked my lamp, and make for the sound.
As I proceeded in my unknown journey,
I noticed the sound was coming from somewhere in the school compound. But as I
stepped further, something gripped me that was not the urgency to safe, it was
fear. I perceived that everything around me was dark except my lamp. Yes, it
was all dark and producing fear… FEAR. I wanted to go
back but something in me kept me going. After some minutes, I realized that the
sound was coming from the school well; not just coming from it, but rising in
it. I raised my lamp to check the well and I saw it. It was right there, a
drowning goat, yelling for its life.
The sight of the goat stimulated the
urgency to save in me. I raced into the house to call for help. With the aid of
one of my brothers, the goat was brought out from where it could have breathed
its last. It was a significant hope for the hopeless.
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