She walked slowly up the hill, in no hurry, on a mission directed by her mother. Tucked securely under her arm was a chicken. A calm, brown chicken with a pretty red comb, glowing with health, being taken for a walk. This is a chicken who is used to being held, and has enjoyed the strokes of its minders. This being evidenced in its confidence and lack of fluster.
Appearing a little shy and nervous, she reached her destination in the early coolness of the morning, to deliver this prize to one she did not know.
Her heart beating a little faster. eyes cast down so as to avoid looking into the unfamiliar face, she prepared to place the gift sent from her mother into the hands of the stranger who laughed with the surprise of it all.
The mind raced in a little confusion. “I did not expect this.” “How do I carry this home?” “Where do I keep it?”
The thoughts in Andrew’s head came out as words in the form of questions, posed to whoever was nearby and listening. “I am honoured, but what do I do now?”
“I don’t have a cage to carry it home.” The options tumbled around until one took seed
and Andrew raced off leaving Abdi “holding the baby.”
Satisfied and relieved that her mission was accomplished, she
who carried the fowl so gently and quietly, turned back the way she came
to continue with her day in peace with her family.
I did not see that chicken again that morning. But I was told that we would see it on our return visit to Wamba. Mmmmm………..I know not where that chicken went and I know not it’s fate………Or do I and just wish not to know.