A BITE TO REMEMBER

“Mr, why's your hand bandaged?”

I remember asking a stranger the first day my mom took me to the market when I was a kid. She quickly grabbed me alone, covering my mouth from saying anymore and apologized to the stranger for that.

“This girl, you ask a lot of questions!” She exclaimed numerous times that day, as I kept on asking questions about every single thing I saw. “Mummy, why is the market so dirty and crowded? Mummy, why is that man pushing those heavy things alone? Mummy, why do these people keep on shouting hundred, hundred naira? I asked every single question that popped in my head.

I was a naturally extremely inquisitive child who wanted to know everything. The questions I asked were sometimes bold and intrusive, making whoever ever listened to me a bit uncomfortable. My curiosity knew no bound. For an eight-year-old child, I was too curious for my own good. Although my mum tried hiding things she deemed important from me, my curious mind pushed me to find out what they were. I opened hidden boxes around the house, searched for places no one would ever think of finding me in, scattered objects and things to discover how they work.

My mom would often scold and beat me on several occasions when I had destroyed one of her properties all in the name of wanting to find out how it worked. Most times I would be grounded for weeks when I crossed the line. But that didn't deter me. My curiosity was endless. We lived in a quiet neighborhood back then. There was an old, abandoned house a few meters from where we lived. I had always wondered why that house was abandoned. Did the owners forget about their house? I had thought to myself. It was ancient looking, and just by looking at it, you could tell no one lived there.

However, kids were not allowed to go into that house for any reason. My Mum had warned me several times to stay away from that house as it was dangerous. But I didn't see anything dangerous. In my eyes, it was a beautiful house. The owners had probably forgotten about it. Or perhaps someone indeed lived there quietly, hiding from the rest of the world. My curious mind came up with images of what could be in that house, and soon I found myself staring too long at the house whenever I went to school, wishing I could go in and see for myself what was so dangerous about the house.

Soon, I found the perfect opportunity. One hot Saturday afternoon, my mom was deep asleep, and my sister had just left the house to get something on the market. I was wide awake and restless. Sneakily, I left the house, making sure not to be quiet about it. I made my way to the forbidden house my mum had warned me about countless times. With joy and excitement pumping through my veins, I ran quickly, it was just a few meters down from where our house was.

I made sure nobody saw me, then I entered through the gate. Surprisingly, it was open. The forbidden house was just how I had imagined it in my mind. It was beautiful indeed. There were flowers all over the compound. Although the walls were dusty, the compound seemed to be clean. There was no grass. I decided to venture into the house to find out if someone was secretly living there.

So I walked towards the front door, and was about to push open the door, when a sound stopped me. I stood still, unmoving, then I heard the sound again. A ferrocious bark, it was the sound of a dog. I felt very hot all of a sudden, my hand began shaking, and my palms were sweaty. I was extremely afraid of dogs and I was alone in the compound. Slowly I turned to see a very menacing, dangerous-looking dog growling at me. It was a Rottweiler. It was black and had its large tongue and dangerous canines barking at me. Without thinking, I sprinted off, my instinct kicking in, I ran for my dear life. The dog chased after me, barking dangerously close to me and loudly. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me till I was almost out of the gate, then it bit me with its large teeth.

Source

I shouted and cried that day till no end. With so much pain, I limped back home to find my mum and sister looking for me.

“What happened to you?” My mom asked, terrified and worried.

I managed to explain everything despite the pain that coursed through me. I was quickly taken to the hospital where I received treatment and had the wound bandaged. Ever since then, I have learned my lesson the hard way. Sometimes, it's better not to know at all than risk putting yourself in danger. Indeed curiosity killed the cat.