• victoriaibukun 6w

    Walking into the pen I had no plan on how to remove the chicken we were about to sell, I thought I was simply going to get it out the cage.

    I Tried and failed realising I would have to use my two hands, one carrying a leg. Even so it rested on my hands having the energy only to control it breathing that allowed it to live. I eyed the offensive chicken as I panted wondering since when broiler of twenty-five weeks were too big for a human to carry.

    Finally taking it out to the customer, he said three thousand naira. I eyed him trying to hide my disgust thinking about all the struggle I went through to make sure it lived; the amount of money, the drugs, the stress, the number of unhealthy sleep talkless of a routine, the dirtiest moment, sacrifices, injuries and pains I had no time to cater for, the worried lines I had just to make sure they lived.

    I held it smiling instead, "No that would be seven thousand thank you." I should have said ten thousand even though it wasn't a deal.

    - My blog.


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    The big issue

    A small amount for something that worth more. I guess that is why they call farming a dirty work.