Eid-el Kabir

“Sometimes, I think God is punishing me for something I did, which makes no sense because I’m a freaking ram. I don’t see what horrible thing I could’ve done to be cursed with self-awareness.”

“Well, maybe that one time I hit a handler in the crotch with my horns. He was being a douche (i.e. physically aggressive for no reason) so he kinda deserved it.”

I’ve tried warning the others about what’s coming but either they don’t understand me or they’ve chosen not to listen. In the past few days, our brothers have been carted off one by one. And even though, we can all see them being tied up and forced into the boots of cars, my dumb ass brethren STILL believe the “chosen ones” are being taken somewhere better to become pets. I feel like I’m stuck in that Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johansson movie from 2005 named The Island. Or that one scene from Animal Farm where Boxer the horse is clearly being taken away in a Knacker’s van to be killed (because he’s injured and now considered a liability by the pigs) but they lie to everyone that he’s going to the hospital.

I shouldn’t even know what movies are.

I know what really happens when one of us leaves. They’re taken to a house and fattened up in preparation for the Muslim holiday, Eid-el Kabir

, during which they are eventually sacrificially murdered and eaten. (Something about honouring Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son.) The only reason I haven’t been bought yet is because of my less than desirable look. You see, the humans want fat rams and I’ve been on a hunger strike, which means that I currently look like those models who, in an attempt to stay skinny, only eat cotton balls dipped in juice.

Apart from being fucking horrifying, the sacrificial process is super gross. The humans hire a butcher (i.e animal hitman) who shows up with his assortment of knives. By this point, the ram knows what’s up and is freaking out like crazy so the butcher ties its legs to avoid being accidentally kicked in the nuts. The butcher then slits the ram’s throat, leading to blood being spewed everywhere while its body jerks about. When all the blood has been drained, the butcher blows air into the ram’s corpse through a hole cut in one of the legs. This makes it easy for him to shave the ram’s wool off.

The ram’s corpse is then disembowelled and cut into pieces to make cooking easier.

I honestly don’t know how I know this.

I don’t know what this says about me but all this cooking talk is making me super hungry. It’s been days since I ate anything and I’m so tired, I can barely move. So what’s the point? What’s the point of anything when none of my kind can understand me.

I just realized that the only choices I have are:

• Death from sacrificial murder.
• Death from starvation.

Excuse me while I go get some food.

Click here to read other stories in the NIGERIAN HORROR STORY series.