White is love.
The animal who does not love White does not know love
For White is love
And in the name of White every animal’s knees shall bow
And every tongue shall give him glory
For White’s is the wisdom
The power and the glory
For the rest of his tenure as farm manager
The farm had been fitted with loudspeakers that could be heard from all the corners of the farm. Every morning there was the anthem and a call to prayer. Animals were urged by Whitist priests to pray for White. To pray for the farm. But most of all to accept the farm as the sole property of White the wolf.
Because the land on the farm was not suitable for production of all the crops that the animals needed, they often had to import a lot of food. All the farm had was yams. Yams and water (which was taken out through pipelines out of the marshlands in the south of the farm and sold to other farms). Animals used yams to trade with animals on other farms for other items. The water was solely controlled by White as was also the case with every farm manager before him.
As White returned from visiting the veterinarian in a farm far away, he informed his farm hands that he was going to begin a tour of farms. He claimed that Goodhead had ruined the reputation of the farm and it was only when he went farm after farm telling other farm managers how useless some of his farm animals are, that respect would come back to the farm.
Meanwhile White pegged the value of yams on the farm. It was twenty tubers of yam to bag of grain. However everyone knew that unless it was White who was giving you the grains himself, you could not sell twenty yams for one bag of grain. On the streets and in other farms the real value was almost double what White had pegged it to be. You needed at least forty tubers of yam to buy one bag of grain. Other farm managers had told White that he should deregulate the value of yams or watch the value of his yams go so low that no one would be able to exchange yams for any commodity profitably. Animals would starve: you can only eat so much yams especially when you do not make anything apart from yams.
Many animals stopped trading outside the farm altogether because no one knew what the real value of yams were. The cost of imported food became so expensive that animals started to complain, even animals that were attending and singing praises at Whitist services.
As White prepared to go on a tour of farms, his priests and farm hands hailed him loudly, declaring that he was doing a great thing going around and improving the reputation of the farm.
“No one cares about yams,” they told him. “Yams will fix themselves and as soon as your work begins to pay off one yam will be equal to one bag of grain.”
Indeed that was what he promised the animals when he was trying to take over the farm. The slogan was One for One - one tuber of yam for one bag of grain. He was going to work wonders he claimed, as soon as he became farm manager.
White began his tour with a farm that had recently faced turmoil and whose leaders routinely tried and sentenced its animals to death, even if they were baby animals.
White also gave orders for all the animals that held positions under Goodhead to be relieved of their positions. As soon as he did this, his farm hands and the Whitist priests and their children began to hustle to be replacements for the now vacant positions. Their praise and worship had to pay off.
And the Whitist priests increased the volume of their singing.
And even though White promised to look into the massacre of bats by his genocidal farm hand Dick-Tai, another week passed when bats were swept into the bushes.
And no one cared or asked Dick-Tai to account for the whereabouts of hundreds of bats. Or at least the decency to tell the animals how many bats exactly he massacred and how many he buried in secret graves.
And the pain in White’s side persisted.
And White planned more trips to foreign farms.
And White refused to let the value of yams be controlled by the market.
And the value of yams kept depreciating.
And Whitists sang into the loud speakers that reached the length and breadth of the farm:
In the name of the White father
And of the farm hands
And of the holy Whitists…
Bless us White for we have sinned
Bless our thoughts
Bless our desires
Bless our intentions
Blessed be thy name
Thy will be done in every quarter among every animal species
Teach us to love your will
Teach us to be teachable
Teach us to trust your will even when your will may not be clear
Teach us to defend your will before it becomes your will
For thine are the decisions, the thoughts and the glory
For as long as you choose to be farm leader