Since my move here, it's been one adventure after another..
Kara!! I can still smell it..
stale blood, animal dung, hides and skin in boiling water, wet hay burning hoofs and horns and human sweat..oughf!!! what a stench it was.
Kara!! the gory sight hunted me for days, it still hunts me.
As we alighted the car I had no warning what to expect, my crisp white slippers hit the muddy floor and OMG!! what did I expect, sparkly white floors? after all this is an abattoir.
As we tip toed trying to make our way further in, all I kept thinking was how bad my slippers were (I mean what was I thinking?? white slippers to an abattoir?) As if to put me out of the misery of wondering, ''ago lo ano!! kuro lo ona!!'two men pulling a bull wearing rubber boots, the splash of muddy water on me got me angry ''ago lo ano!! kuro lo ona!!'' (out of the way) that's the apology I get?? arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhh!! my slippers! I felt I heard jeering in their remarks,
''anty you sef why you wear am come here''
looking around I felt stupid, everyone had rubber boots...hmm, my bad
At the slaughter floor it was a battle of wits, the poor animals how they struggled to live, but none was able to win...they were defeated by the strength of five strong men and the ropes that help them down.....
In a few moments they became pieces of beef on the floor and on tables waiting to be sold...
We continued in search of our customer (when i say customer, in Nigeria once you continually buy things from the same person you become his customer and he your's) ignoring the beaconing from several butchers waving their bloody hands and knives in our direction---''madam, anty I go sell beta for you''
It was then that my aunty paused to give me my second lesson, don't buy the meat already dressed and displayed...why?? "they let it sit in water so it swells and looks healthy'' hmmm
lesson one was never wear white slippers to any Lagos market!!
Besides the seeming chaos I saw at first, the next few minutes showed just how organized they were...finally we located our customer with the help of another butcher (healthy competition i must say)
While we waited to be served, I couldn't help but notice and inwardly lament the poor sanitary condition there.. I could see probably a million maggots under the table and animals and humans passing their own waste in nearby waters...
We placed our order and in minutes they went to work... one group handled the offal, another the hoofs and hind, the last dealt with the beef.... the speed and dexterity with which they worked got me envious... not that i want to be a butcher but I wish we all displayed such expertise at work.
One thing I was grateful for were the meat vans at least the meat gets transported in style...I watched as meat was hauled into the back of one van..the thought of my next meal having beef in it scared me...
Like the community that Kara is, they have it all..from tailors to sew the polytene suits they wore to protect their clothes, to cobblers attending to rubber boots that needed mending--food vendors, medicine sellers (what I like to call mobile pharmacy)
Here, nothing ever went to waste, hoofs and horns were roasted into bone meals (for animal feeds), the blood was also gathered (whatever for......i'm thinking animal feed) the skin (komo) is mostly sold and eaten, shoe makers hardly ever get anything.
As we made our way out, kill in hand, I look back remembering the stench that was to follow me home, the tight road and slippery floor...it all went well, i had survived my first abattoir visit................rbg
Kara!! I can still smell it..
stale blood, animal dung, hides and skin in boiling water, wet hay burning hoofs and horns and human sweat..oughf!!! what a stench it was.
Kara!! the gory sight hunted me for days, it still hunts me.
As we alighted the car I had no warning what to expect, my crisp white slippers hit the muddy floor and OMG!! what did I expect, sparkly white floors? after all this is an abattoir.
As we tip toed trying to make our way further in, all I kept thinking was how bad my slippers were (I mean what was I thinking?? white slippers to an abattoir?) As if to put me out of the misery of wondering, ''ago lo ano!! kuro lo ona!!'two men pulling a bull wearing rubber boots, the splash of muddy water on me got me angry ''ago lo ano!! kuro lo ona!!'' (out of the way) that's the apology I get?? arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhh!! my slippers! I felt I heard jeering in their remarks,
''anty you sef why you wear am come here''
 |
| bull taken away to it's death... |
looking around I felt stupid, everyone had rubber boots...hmm, my bad
At the slaughter floor it was a battle of wits, the poor animals how they struggled to live, but none was able to win...they were defeated by the strength of five strong men and the ropes that help them down.....
In a few moments they became pieces of beef on the floor and on tables waiting to be sold...
 |
| the beef!! |
We continued in search of our customer (when i say customer, in Nigeria once you continually buy things from the same person you become his customer and he your's) ignoring the beaconing from several butchers waving their bloody hands and knives in our direction---''madam, anty I go sell beta for you''
It was then that my aunty paused to give me my second lesson, don't buy the meat already dressed and displayed...why?? "they let it sit in water so it swells and looks healthy'' hmmm
lesson one was never wear white slippers to any Lagos market!!
 |
| slaughter floor! point of no return!! |
While we waited to be served, I couldn't help but notice and inwardly lament the poor sanitary condition there.. I could see probably a million maggots under the table and animals and humans passing their own waste in nearby waters...
 |
| Men at work.. |
One thing I was grateful for were the meat vans at least the meat gets transported in style...I watched as meat was hauled into the back of one van..the thought of my next meal having beef in it scared me...
 |
| Eko meat van! |
Like the community that Kara is, they have it all..from tailors to sew the polytene suits they wore to protect their clothes, to cobblers attending to rubber boots that needed mending--food vendors, medicine sellers (what I like to call mobile pharmacy)
 |
| hoofs and horns |
Here, nothing ever went to waste, hoofs and horns were roasted into bone meals (for animal feeds), the blood was also gathered (whatever for......i'm thinking animal feed) the skin (komo) is mostly sold and eaten, shoe makers hardly ever get anything.
 |
| waiting for their turn.. |
As we made our way out, kill in hand, I look back remembering the stench that was to follow me home, the tight road and slippery floor...it all went well, i had survived my first abattoir visit................rbg
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