Soji and I huddled around the cauldron, rubbing our gloved hands over the rising steam.
Then Maduka appeared in the doorway. His teeth chattered as he huddled next to us and told us we would have to roast the goats ourselves.
“In this weather?” I protested.
“I thought roasting the goat was part of the cost,” Soji said, looking stricken.
“This is the first time I’m dealing with him,” Maduka explained. “He only kills the goat and skins it, unlike the other farmer who will roast the goat for a small fee.”
“If he skins it, what’s left of the goat?
