To
clear the air, I am not an anti-Christ or an atheist. I am a Christian who
adores the Lord with all her heart. But there is just one thing about Christmas
that gets me mad and highly irritated. Chickens!! Live chickens!!! I hate the
sounds they make, I hate their feathers, their looks, everything. I always stay
off their paths. I still don't understand why people would rear chickens in
their compounds, leaving them free to run around. The worse is when they want
to mate, jeez...I literally run away when I see the cocks chasing the hens
because they run like they have gone crazy. I hate them so much that I cannot
stare at the picture of a live chicken....goose pimples at the thought of
it.
During
the Xmas period, sales of chickens are on the rise especially few days to
Christmas. Live chicken lovers proudly carry their chickens from the market to
their homes. Some use their private cars which is cool, but others use public
commercial vehicles making people like me uncomfortable which is totally unfair.
I remember December last year when I entered a bus and discovered that the man
sitting beside bought a live chicken which was in a polythene bag with its head
sticking out. I can't remember how many times I told the man the chicken must
not touch me or fly out of the nylon. I kept moving away as if I was going to
enter into the door of the bus (I sat close to the door). I am sure the
man would have been thinking, "What is wrong with this one?"
I was just grumbling within myself, "Why can't people just buy
frozen chicken or get the chicken killed in the market?" Or is
there anything special about killing your own chicken? Seeing Xmas chickens all
around makes me remember unpleasant chicken experiences.
A
horrid chicken incident happened some Christmas Eves ago when my dad bought
fresh chicken (live chicken which was killed in the market). As I was
washing the chicken and nodding my head to the music playing on my i-pod, I
took a part that felt weird so I bent my head to look at it and to my utter
shock, it was the head! I yelled like I just saw a ghost, flung the head, it
hit the ceiling and fell on the kitchen floor, while I was still screaming as
if the ghost was walking towards me. My parents ran downstairs to find out what
was happening only for me to point at the chicken head on the floor. They both
laughed at me and were relieved that it was nothing serious. As my dad picked
up the head, I shouted, "Hope there is no other one?"
He laughed as he took the second chicken head which I thank God I didn't
discover myself, and threw them away.
Another
horrid chicken experience occurred when I was still in the primary school. My
siblings, neighbors and I saw feathers floating in the air. They looked so
beautiful that we were chasing after them and playing with them. We used them
to tickle our faces, ears, necks, etc. We were running happily with our new
toys. Then one of us said, "let's find out where these feathers are
coming from" So we did our inspector gadget and found a dead
chicken crushed by a car in front of our gate with its feathers flying off from
it. Ewww!!! I ran to the bathroom and had the shower of my life. I think
this wins the most horrible chicken experience ever.
Just
by the way, there are two TV adverts usually aired on popular TV channels about
seasoning cubes tasting like chicken. One seasoning cube is more popular than
the other and I use it. In their advert, they portrayed the fact that their
seasoning cube tasted like chicken without actually showing any live chicken.
Grandma was looking for the chicken in the kitchen and asked the wife, "Where
is the chicken?" But the second less popular seasoning cube which
has a masculine name by the way just had to show a child and his mother at the
beginning of their commercial pursuing live chickens. I really hate that
advert.
Anyway, this one isn't my own personal experience per se. It was about 2
years back when my dad bought two live chickens for Xmas. He went out to do
some shopping and came back with goodies in his car. I was in the house
watching TV while my brothers offloaded the car. After about 30mins, my dad
asked us if we had fed the chickens and I replied, "Which
chickens?" He just yelled at my brothers for leaving the chickens
in the boot and instructed them to bring out the chickens out and feed them.
Not exaggerating here, my brothers spent about 20mins arguing on who was going
to carry the chickens. Later on they did it, courtesy my dad's extra yelling,
but they were screaming out of fear and at each other the whole time.
But
good for them, they have outgrown that fear unlike me. Mine's even worse
because I have extended my phobia to birds. I'll ask again like I asked myself
when I sat beside the man with a live chicken in a polythene bag,
"Why can't people kill their chickens in the market?" Or is
there anything special about killing your own chicken?
So much to expect in 2014; I am highly excited and equally nervous! I have
written my resolutions for the new year and the list is long (and scary
yikes!!!). However darlings, I am very sorry I cannot share them with you
now but I will do that later by God’s grace.
