Today is Saturday. I was having a pretty slow morning. A pretty slow day to be honest. Feeling a wee bitty hungover, I’d spent most of it indulging in a TV binge before entering into a raging debate with myself over whether I should do something more productive.
The proactive part of me had finally won out and I’d just reached the bottom floor of my apartment block with the intention of going swimming when, upon turning the corner, I saw a bloodied goat being loomed over by three men.
I recognised this goat. In fact, I’d been admiring him just last night looking so sweet having a little chew on the grass outside the security gate. I had however also been complaining about him to my colleague Mildred explaining that his bleating was waking me up too early in the morning for my liking. So there were mixed feelings when I saw that his throat had been slit.
Stopping to get a better look I got a fright to see his legs start to wiggle!
“Don’t worry, he is brain dead at this point! He can’t feel a thing!”
That’s my neighbour Salim. He went on to explain I had stumbled onto a sacrifice. This goat wasn’t intended for Salim’s dinner table but instead for the mosque that evening as an offering.
Salim’s wife explained that their son has been having a few too many car crashes recently (I can attest to that, I saw the car last weekend…) so the family have decided they need to do a little extra to keep him safe.
Now the goat was dead, the process of de-skinning and chopping up could take place. And I wasn’t about to miss that I tell you! I ran and grabbed my camera…so luckily you too can sit back and view!
I don’t think I’ll forget the collective “yeeeuuuughhh” when the bladder was split open and the urine poured out. Sorry you can’t smell that through the video…
Next up after the dissection was the cleaning of the bowels… We traipsed out the grassy area at the back of our apartments with a clean bucket of water and some rather gruesome looking organs. I’ve never seen anything like the pile of grass that poured out of that’s goat’s belly!
The final thing to do was to wait for the eagle to come for the small amount on unusable innards. That job was left to me and the kids as the adults went off to start the roasting. To be honest, I’m not sure who had the more fun job… grass that has been sat in a goat’s belly for three days does NOT smell good…
Lucky for me, unlucky for goats, we’re going to have another sacrifice next month to try nip these car crashes in the bud. So I’ll be able to catch the actual death moment. And wait for another eagle.