By the time I leave this place, I think I’ll be bleating like a goat! It’s 9am and I have just polished off a sumptuous breakfast, the centrepiece of which was goat stew and jollof rice. Last night, I had a delectable dinner from a smörgåsbord of offerings, but I couldn’t resist a good helping of goat meat. At lunch time, I had a goat snack as well.

In other words, since I arrived in Lagos three days ago, not a day has passed that I haven’t eaten goat meat. Many black South Africans reading this are probably screwing up their faces in disgust: what kind of Zulu are you, Fred?..

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