A little girl stood at the edge of the road, holding her father’s hand. Her brother sat on a high bench behind them. It was 7 am, and she was eating from a polythene bag. When she was done, she sneaked her hand behind her. I imagined what she was about to do. As it turned out, her father guessed too. She dropped the bag on the ground. Quick as lightning, her father rapped her on the head. It was a healthy, disciplinary clobbering delivered through her ‘fro. He scolded her and asked her to ‘pick it up’. That was a happy morning for me.