Painful Change

Photo: Courtesy

Nuksi  is a Swahili word I've been taking for grunted( yeah, the pig's) until a few minutes ago. Having left home due to Uncle Brat's effect( http://simongichimu.blogspot.co.ke/2016/11/uncle-brat.html?m=1), I bumped unto Auntie Mwitio's den. I should have thought better. Work is the only definition she knows for success. Diligence is a solid practice in her compound. Anyway, I have no problem working, in fact since I entered her compound, two manual labourers have been rendered redundant. And that's the dawn of my tribulations, the only thing left in the name of a worker is looking for all ways to have me die soon.

My little experience in milking can be attributed to be a Natural Cause of Disaster. Since I relieved the rest the noble duty, the quantity (and quality)has improved from ten litres to thirteen per milking session. Nine litres each day! It's either there was a crazy conduit, a cartel network for smuggling, the cow was under fed or both. This has made us a good family, a poor human resource relationship. The Matiang'i or is it the Ayiro feeling is popular among the masses but a shortcut to assassination. Fruit production has also rose,but milk is the main,heart, direct nerve that has made the farm hostility and happiness shoot.

Today's schedule saw me in the field. My reputation to curb loopholes is spreading like bushfire. I have been receiving funny calls from the neighbours' daughters, a bunch of form four leavers whose intention is to confirm how well I can lose a sweat on them.( Ouch off the topic again!). I was monitoring the potato bags, selecting, directing and acting as a catalyst, speeding up the rate of energy production. The looks I got,sneers and sly laughs made me uneasy.

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So I was to milk,I did. What was done to cow, what they fed, what it inhaled and what it imbibed; I'm yet to know. All I I can confirm is that the conspiracy goal was passed to my instant fame animal.

It all began the way the cow breathed as I escorted it to the parlour. So loud and inconsistent. It relaxed a bit as I milked. As I was winding up, it threw the first kick. It missed the bucket and my face. I should have left. The the next kick followed, double kick,I dodged. Landing was the best twist, one leg was in the bucket, the next one on my toe. A dilemma to save my shapeless toe or the milk wasn't easily solved. I shrieked, the doomed servant was watching, with no hurry to save anyone. Smiling like a demon confusing a good soul. The toe was left much worse than it was. I have managed to salvage milk, half the amount, brown in colour.

On my way to buy the Elastoplast, I have heard whispers. The cow hates cats, allergic and super phobic. Then I remember seeing the idiot encouraging the cat to ask for milk from me. I'm leaving him too. But vengeance must be featured, from all possible corners. I'm having a cold, Aunty is listening and she's on my side. Change is a challenge.

#Nomys_Madness