Slaughtering a pig isn’t shelling peas. It is not like killing chicken or goat or even cow. It isn’t for the faint hearted. Kama the meek sheep protests when it is being killed, sembuse a pig? An animal with a snort more powerful than a excavator’s earth drill? The designers of Sannys and Caterpillars of this world were inspired by a pig’s snort. We are not even touching teeth in this discussion.
To ensure that you don’t have to contend with a powerful snort and razor sharp teeth from a grunting demon that is determined to make a biscuit out of your mûthirimo (no available translation) in the attempt to wrestle down the pig, you tether it in an open ground, look for a mallet and approach the animal surreptitiously. You muster all strength and deliver a bone crashing strike to its ‘utosi’ ensuring to immobilize the animal first-time. A slight blunder and the pig chews you vengefully like big-G.
Now, our guy Mbogo, the 110kg behemoth was a master of the trade. Anytime there was a pig to be slaughtered at the local abbatoir, he was always in hand to incapacitate the pig. His payment; free access to the butchery’s kitchen with unlimited supply of pork throughout the period of selling the carcass.
When it came to hitting the pig, Mbogo did it in style. Mbogo and Style are like Siemens twins. They are joined at his body-builder’s chest.
With the mallet in hand, he would suck deeply at his cigar exhaling smoke out his nose. Then he would spit lightly in one palm then the other and rub against the mallet’s handle.
He would approach the animal keen not to make his intentions obvious.
Mbogo would bring the mallet down on the pigs head with devastating force. The swoosh sound as he brought the mallet down would be heard by the entire village. That’s how majority villagers would get to know that a pig has been slaughtered at the shopping center.
The animal would go down to the ground motionless. Mbogo, his mission accomplished, would take a backseat waiting for the lowly mortals to skin the animal and cart the carcass from the abbattoir to the butchery where he would start preparing morsels and feasting in earnest.
On this particular day, Mbogo missed! The mallet that had been brought down with the force of a couple kilotons of TNT, missed the pig’s head and landed on the hard ground forming a sizeable crater. The resultant earth tremor was recorded by many meteorological stations world over.
When you miss in such a strike, the law of motion and force dictates that you must stumble. Mbogo did stumble falling tops turvy over the pig that was startled for a brief moment. The startling did not last for long. The pig put two and two together and realized what had just happened and how lucky it was.
With its razor sharp teeth, it snapped the tether-rope from its front leg like it was some spider web. The pig bit on the mallet head producing a grating sound and some fire sparks. Everybody took to their heels including Mbogo the behemoth with the pig in hot pursuit.
The pig was grunting like an ogre that has been castrated with a blunt object.
Mbogo’s friends dashed inside the abbattoir but he missed the door due to momentum.
Mbogo run around the abbattoir with the pig snapping at his backside. He made raps around the abbortoir knowing too well a dash towards the open area would be suicidal. The grunting devil was only growing more murderous as it snapped at his Mbogo’s feet and backside.
Mbogo, almost exhausted and with blood soaking his old Savco was screaming for help but it was not forthcoming.
“Wooooiii mûtindeithie nî îkunjuraga! (Help please! it will kill me)
After making what seemed like a 10,000 meters Olympic race Mbogo decided to take his chances, he made a dash to the raised water tank platform a couple of yards through the open ground. He hoisted himself up there with agility that would make Mutaz Essa Bashir wince.
Hiyo nguruwe ilichafua. It made sure activities in the shopping area came to a standstill with people locking themselves inside or running for dear life. Some people were even dialing KWS.
Finally, after hours of causing havoc, it run back home knocking everybody down with a deadly snort-kick. But it was considerate because once you fell, it went to the next fella on line.
The pig, however, didn’t give a damn whether you were aged or if you had a load on your back or your were pushing a bicycle. Kila mtu chini! Seges!
I am not sure but legend has it that the pig hived off a big chunk of land from Mbogo’s buttocks. Eti that’s why despite his puffed up body, his backside is leveled.