Village cow thief invites chief to his home before fleas' invasion

Let us take a holiday from politics. Let me tell you, instead, about recent happenings in Emanyulia. This is our beautiful green village.

The sun rises here, before travelling to other places, to greet the people. Now, as you know, strange things happen in these villages. You recall our man whose goats used to be stolen some years ago? Each time they took one, he woke up the entire village, shouting, “Thief! Thief!” 

Yet, this would usually be long after the bandit had gone. We would join him in street protests in the village, decrying the theft of our animals.

Afterwards, we would admonish the man. We told him to take care of his animals. You see, villagers get tired of being woken up in the middle of the night, to run after bandits and sundry cattle rustlers. 

Now this man’s goats were stolen four times. We were never certain they were stolen, for sure! But four times, he said, his goats and cows had been stolen.

We believed him. After the fourth theft, even the local chief, and his top askaris, came out to help our man, Odera, for that is his name. Never mind that Odera blamed the third and fourth thefts on our chief. 

Now he was upbeat. “Nobody will steal my animals again,” he bragged, “Now I have Chief Atanda Kataka with me. Atanda is coming with his entire deep system. Nobody can steal my goats!” 

Then came the night when all this talk vaporised. The village woke up to wild screams. “Yah-yeh-yeh-yah! My cow, oh my cow, our people! They have stolen my cow again!” 

We joined him in the streets to protest. Misa, the precious cow, was a cow like none. She produced the best milk and the finest cream. But now we were hearing that she had been stolen by a gang called Angola Musumbichi! The leader of Angola Musumbichi was a dreaded individual, a proper cattle rustler, they said! 

We were everywhere, in the streets of Emanyulia. We beat debes, carrying sufurias on our heads, crying for our stolen cow. Five times was too much! We called out our witchdoctors.

Their unmentionables

They placed a curse on the thief and on the cow, too. We made war cries. We killed animals. We sprinkled their blood all over the place. We said terrible things.

Anyone who ate of this cow, drank her milk, or touched her cream, would be occupied by a million fleas, in their unmentionables. 

But suddenly we are hearing that Odera and the man he called a thief are now bosom friends. Asked, Odera says angrily, he did not go to the thief. The thief just called him and said they should become friends.

He was offered a calabash of sour milk from the cow. Then came ugali with vegetables, tsisaaka, cooked with cream from the stolen cow. Odera was invited to live with him. To milk with him the stolen cow, and enjoy gourds of busaa beer with him.

He was told that all the cow dung was his, with his family and friends. “The cow dung is all yours, for plastering your floor and for manure!” Cow dung, Odera yaawa?

Odera has brought his whole family to live with the man who was said to be a thief. They plaster the floors with cow dung.

Odera’s children are over the moon! Eh! Those boys and girls are rude! With cow dung all over the face and the body, they pause to abuse anyone and everyone.

They sing praises to the one they used to call a cattle rustler! Even Odera himself – he praises this man, almost as if he was the junior holy spirit. 

In the night, after drinking busaa together, the two men go out to dance the naked jungle dance. They dance in the dark streets of Emanyulia.

Naked, they hold hands and jig. They tell off anyone who dares remind them of the stolen things. Odera’s children will bite you, if you say “theft.”

Recently, Odera began touring far places, to teach his new dance. He was seen in faraway Kisii. He tried the naked dance in broad daylight. Weh! The Kisii people were a-n-n-o-y-e-d! They screamed Odera out of town.

Meanwhile, the cow man has been roving everywhere, on donkey back. He is restless! He stands on top of the donkey, preaching! They say it is the fleas occupying him.

If he could have it his way, he would return Odera’s cow. But as he cannot, he has invited Odera to milk and dung with him. Odera is happy. Ti-tinda!

-Dr Muluka is a strategic communications adviser. www.barrackmuluka.co.ke