“…It was tragic when I found out I was high on a lot more than codeine.

…I was high on FEAR.”


I know what you’d be thinking when you see COFLIN and DEATH; that I took overdose and I was probably high on codeine but no, that wasn’t the case. In fact, COFLIN didn’t even enter my mouth. I hate the taste and the idea of having to take it when I have cough.

The story is of a different tale but COFLIN did mar me.

The day came like any other, the sun shining like never before, the birds chirping like they knew what was coming my way that Saturday. I had just finished my house chores when my mum told me to boil water for my sister who had the flu. It was her first time having this major sickness; and she being the baby of the House, my mother took it upon herself to make sure she wouldn’t do anything, left to me she would have boiled the water herself (not being wicked but she’d have to help herself someday). After boiling water for her bath and doing other things a loving elder sister would do, the time came for her to take the prescribed drugs; migraine pills, Vitamin C and cough mix. It was then DR MEYERS COFLIN decided to do me wayo (decided to play with my feelings).

My mother told me to get the COFLIN from the fridge and her instruction was

“open the fridge and bring the COFLIN, it’s still in the paper pack so put your hand underneath it”.

I said Okay and based on the fact that I was doing the work grudgingly, I was vexed and I grumbled.

“ is she the first to fall sick, if it were to be me, I won’t be pampered this way”

As I opened the fridge and brought out the COFLIN which was still in its paper pack, I saw something fall from underneath the paper pack I held by the sides.

“YE YE YE YE!!!”



Something drastic had happened and “Ye” was all I could call, even before “God” the actual savior.

The COFLIN glass bottle had fallen, crashed and broken into pieces with purple liquid all over the floor.

Once again “YE YE YE” was all I could sing; I stressed each “yeeee” one at a time, then the pace would increase “yeyeye”.

My heart began to beat faster than ever before and from nowhere I just heard my Yoruba mother shout “hmm Adeoluwajoju O ti fo abi? ( you have broken it right)

At this point the ye was faster and I began to say “yiyiyiyiyiyeeee!!!”

Before I knew it I heard my mothers footsteps, she was coming at me the way Goliath was probably coming at David but this time, She being Goliath, had all the power and me being David; I was a dead man walking.

I tried explaining myself and in between;

“ mummy I don’t know how it fell, I held it how you told me to”.

My mother dazed me with a very hot side cheek slap, my ear made that annoying noise it would make whenever the speaker in church was really loud. Unconsciously I turned the other cheek and she painted it with another hot slap. I fell straight to the ground. All this happened by the fridge and before I knew it we had taken the David and Goliath battle into the kitchen where a lot of war instruments were available. My mother beat heaven and hell out of me, she brought out the spatula and destroyed my life with it, I was on the floor begging for my life, trying to justify myself but she refused to listen. Unfortunately we had PANKERE (cane) which I thought I hid a long time ago, my mother sought it out and beat me, I was moving towards the gas cooker yet she just kept on flogging, lambasting without mercy.

“Mummy I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”

I wept and I started to think;

“This can’t be my mother, oh my! I was adopted, she wants to kill me, if it were my mother she wouldn’t beat me like this”.

I wept like a beggar but the beating went on for the longest. My sister who was sick came out to watch the WWE SMACKDOWN LIVE going on in the kitchen. I would say she had a look of compassion on, but I disliked her at the moment because if she wasn’t sick I wouldn’t have any cause to go to the fridge to get DR MEYERS COFLIN. All this happened because of her. My mum was ready to go on an on but thankfully, my aunt came to the rescue and begged my mum to stop. In the process, my mum used the cane on her, beat her with it out of fury, but being a loving aunt that she was, she still fought for me.

In the end I just curled up in the corner of the kitchen, busy crying and swallowing goo. I was breathing heavily that I thought I was still going to die.

“Next time listen to my instructions”

was the sorry I got from my mum.

Till this day, I bless the Lord and DR MEYERS COFLIN for giving me that experience. My children will do well to listen to my tales and expect 21st century punishments like separating or picking rice and beans, grain by grain and seed by seed but if they go overboard, PANKERE will be the judge 👩‍⚖️.