Long time ago over school holidays we would be shipped upcountry and once there child labor was real. Everyday there was grazing duty, either take the cows to the field or go cut "thara" - English anyone? Naturally we preferred fields because you could just tether them to a tree and leave them till evening. Once in a while one would break loose and venture into neighbouring farms. Need less to say there would be fireworks at night. There was no excuses with Grandma, we bore the mistake of the cows.
One day one of them broke loose and while it did not go into the neighbours', it reigned havoc on our maize farm. It ate to its satisfaction then walked home and stood at the door. The size of its tummy was enough to want us pee our pants. We replaced the rope then tethered it to a mango tree. I do not remember whose idea it was but we decided to cane the cow. Unaichapa na unaipatia msomo, grandma style. We were at it for a while when the cow suddenly fell on its side and passed gas loudly.
We tried getting it up but wapi. Now for sure we were dead meat. I was ready to pack and walk to Nairobi. We poured water on it, pulled its tail, nothing. There was no way of carrying it back to the field so we came up with explanation that we hoped could save our lives. We figured we would go get the rest of the cows, tether them within the compound and say the cow indeed came home but it fell on its own. Then advance the theory that it was probably poisoned by one of the neighbours. That is exactly what we did. Luckily when we came back with the rest of the herd, stupid cow was on its feet.
That is how God saved us. In retrospect, the poisoning story wouldn't have passed considering the ruckus we had made as we caned it. We all know people in the village never mind their businesses, surely someone must have been watching us.
