Boys played a game in school
Stealing of pens no matter how
They called it, ‘tapping’ by name
Our fathers worked in far away land
Sending money for our books and fees
Some relished in squandering spree

I went home from school without a pen
Wondered what to use next day
I stepped into the room of Akpan Nya
The man of the house in father’s absence
On his table was a world receiver
And coins scattered in front of it

Loud sound blared from the transistor radio
Drowned the silent voice within me
The silver sixpence caught my fancy
With sticky fingers drawn to the table
My pocket was by six richer than before
And the dash to a safe place was swift

Alarm blew on the missing coin
And a wrong guy was accused
False finger pointing brought hot tears
More than the pains from a cane
My cousin wept and couldn’t be consoled
So he begged God to punish the thief

I stood there looking at his sorry sight
Guilt gripped my faint and frightened heart
As prayer of punishment reigned the air
This dark secret created fear in me
Though I was not caught or so-called
I prayed in return for God’s forgiveness

It dawned on me, from the pains I witnessed
That this was not the bad boy’s game
Of tapping or stealing of pens in school
And the charge, ‘Thou shall not steal’
Haunts me from then to this very day

I dread being around a thief
So that I won’t be suspected along
I hate tapping in what ever name
Knowing the pains it can cause
Get behind me all stealing rats
I learnt my lessons long ago