My father and I lived in a village called Dawohoso. The population was about seven hundred and the majority of them were cocoa farmers and minority being hunters and fisherman. My father owned the biggest cocoa farm in the village, which made him the richest and most popular man in the village besides the chief and the royal family. By nature, my father had a warm, frank and open personality. He had a broad mind and was highly respected. This was because he was generous to everyone, especially the old, the poor and the needy. I was his one and only child he cherished me more than anything. He told me that when I was two years old when my mother went to the farm alone one day and never returned. It was believed that she was killed by a human-looking killer beast which had cause mayham and chaos to the villages it lived in the thick forest long along before I was born. Due to the presence of that human like beast the residents of the village feared entering the thick forest and this lead to a shortage of experienced hunters among the residents of Dawohoso and an over realiance on crops. At the ripe age of sixty-two, my father was still strong and capable enough to cultivate and take care of his massive cocoa farm. In order for me to take over from him some day, my father started sending me to the farm when I was only six years old. Within ten years I was able to handle the gun like an adult I would even say I was among the best shooters in the village at the age of twenty as for wedding no matter how hard I tried, I never could keep pace with my father. One Saturday, at dawn I had a dream about the killer beast, he had attacked three hunters in the forest but one managed to escaped back to the village and just when he was about to tell his story containing details of his encounter the beast to the people who had gathered around him, my father knocked on my door. ''Atoapoma'' he sometimes called me by the appellation of my real name, Kwame, my father Komi said get ready and we are going to the farm. I looked out through the window and the sky had cleared slightly but it was still dark. I stretched my limbs with all my muscles to it's full length on the bed and wondered why we were going to the farm two hours earlier than usual this morning. I meekly nodded and stood up obediently, by six o'clock in the morning we were on the farm weeding. I told my dad about my dream but he said nothing. I asked him why we came to the farm so early that morning. he pretended not to have heard me and continued weeding so I kept my mouth shut. we continue the task at hand and because we were weeding in opposite directions the distance between us kept widening with no conversation between us until I heard him call my name out loud. Kwame go back to the village and bring our food. I stood and stared at my father, not quite sure of what he said and what I heard. I kept on weeding, pretending not to have heard him. when he saw that I was still weeding, he wiped off all the sweat running on his forehead with his index finger. Then he stared at me blankly for a moment and let out the words: Kwame Didn't you hear what I said? I did father.