South Sudan: The chicken’s owner and the mutt
4 min readBy Majok Arol Dhieu, Juba, South Sudan
Wednesday, 18 July 2018 (PW) — Once upon a time, there was a man called Matheu in the village of Warakon. He’d been mouthed by all the village inhabitants as a waste of space because he doesn’t participate in hunting and other youth activities.
One day before the sun set, he travelled to the lush green valley with his cousin in order to bring cattle back home. When they reached on the pool, he noticed wild animal’s paw prints. Before he could try to figure out if the paw prints are for a tiger or for a lion, a wounded buffalo rose up from nearby thorny bush and charged them vigorously. Matheu took a refuge in a tree and his cousin was chasing his tail round the pool.
His cousin was gored and tossed into the air by the buffalo and finally thrown into a hole in which he seized the buffalo’s horns firmly. Matheu was still in the tree with his two hands clutching one of the tree’s branches tightly. Till later in the evening when the passers-by discovered that someone is dying in the tree. He was removed out by the passers-by and his cousin was also rescued.
When the news of his cowardice act was heard in the village, he was nicknamed as Cs—–chicken-shit in full. Though he retorted it by saying that “it’s because of his cousin that make buffalo go wild, the villagers have already branded him as a coward”
After five months later, Matheu put together his chickens in basketwork and headed to a place where their sub-clan used to go during dry season. On the way, he met Nyingbar. Nyingbar was a wrestler from neighbouring village and they haven’t met before since Matheu don’t go for a walk even a distance of two miles.
What is your name, where are you coming from and where are you going to? “Nyingbar asked aggressively”. “Why do you asked such silly question? “Matheu replied back”. Nyingbar went straight and unfastened a rope that was coiled round the basketwork to let the chickens scattered into the bush.
What have you done? “Matheu asked”. They looked daggers at themselves and before they lock their horns, a rough-legged hawk which has a nest in the tree from Eastern area of Warakon village fearlessly flew down as a jet-fighter and grasped off one of the small chicks.
Hawks are like vultures which eat not rotten and rotten flesh that contains anthrax, botulism, and cholera bacteria with no ill effects because acids in their stomachs destroy these organisms. Their difference is the feeding of their young. Vultures feed their young by regurgitation of partly digested food and switch to entire food items as they grow up whereas hawks feed their young on direct entire food from the first stage.
Matheu stared at the flying hawks with his one of the chicks under its claws as if he will fly up. After the hawk disappeared into distance, he said, “My friend, you’ve given a very good food to that hawk’s kids but what I would want you to do is this, you’ll not be free unless you collect all my chickens back into their basketwork. Perhaps, you might have heard from your other friends that I’m a waste of space because I do no harm to people; it was because nothing of this kind came across my way. Remember, there are circumstances that make hunters become hunted and killers become killed. If you don’t adhere to my demand and do as I told you, this will be the end of your days”
He pulled his bow out from his back and loaded with two arrows. Nyingbar didn’t saw a bow and arrows one day since he was born; he thought everything is about wrestling. Matheu cautioned him that he shouldn’t do a grave mistake to run, for the arrow will pass through his huge body.
Nyingbar nodded in agreement to bring back all his chickens including the one clawed and taken up by the hawk.
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