Sunday, September 4, 2016


And it came about that on the farm agitation grew especially among the animals who had organised and campaigned for White to become farm manager. As hunger grew among the animals and other non-wolf species began to feel afraid and threatened, animals started accusing each other of deceiving farm animals about the abilities of White to transform the farm into a better place after the destruction by Goodhead and his friends. 

Most animals had very little recollection of when White was once farm manager. When Goodhead was still a little animal jumping about and having fun, White was a young, strong, vicious black wolf. In his first period as farm manager, no one chose him to become farm manager. He bullied his way in. He attacked the farm manager at the time, a docile duck called Drinkgarri who only knew how to eat, shit and float on water. White and his other canine and big cat friends were so irritated with Drinkgarri and his terrible handling of the farm and his shitting everywhere and his coiled penis that dangled right after he had mounted a female duck that they jumped into the water where he was, plucked his feathers, bound his wings and kicked him aside. Drinkgarri was fortunate not to have been killed even. White was asked to take over power and he began the process of changing the rules and making life tough for the animals. He asked his newly appointed farm hands to use whips to keep the animals in line. For animals whom White thought were too problematic, rules were created to execute them. White introduced food rations and cut the farm off from farms around. He tied up any animals that tried to embarrass him or his farm hands. However, while he was forceful and stern, he knew little about running a farm or feeding the animals. And so, not so many months after he had introduced hunger and terror on the farm, his own friends decided he was too harsh in running the farm and more so, had no clue how to bring prosperity back to the farm. 

A couple of decades later, White had now shed off his black fur, acquired white fur and was looked upon as an animal that was clean, immaculate. All he was, was old.  Age had turned black to white. And desperation had turned evil to good. And as the animals who were desperate to remove Goodhead needed options, they looked to the old born again White. He looked bright and beautiful and holy and loving. The animals seeing White as a replacement told animals to forget about White’s history of brutality, rigidity, favouring his own species and a lack of understanding of how to run the farm. They showed animals his white fur and said that this meant he was clean and hadn't killed any prey or rolled in the mud. And that what the farm needed was a clean farm manager. They told everyone that he was only brutal in the past because he was young and the animals he was dealing with were quite stubborn. They said that once a clean farm manager came into power, every other thing would fall into place. The farm’s economy. The farm’s darkness. The farm’s violence. And White smiled and nodded along, silently.

The animals believed all of this. And they erased the history that showed White in his youthful, destructive prime. And they presented him in all his white glory as the messiah of all animals. 

In the beginning of White’s second coming, his friends defended him. They begged animals on the farm to give him time. They told animals, Goodhead was so bad, it was impossible to fail without him being the direct cause. Slowly, as White became more and more deaf and as the violence around him increased, even his friends - animals who had contributed resources to his campaign - began to complain. White was not listening to anyone. He was doing what pleased him, when it pleased him. And it became harder and harder for the slaves who worked for White to craft new lies to defend his actions or the actions of rogue or murderous or clueless farm hands who paraded themselves as agents of White. Then they stopped lying altogether and began asking animals to endure all the pain because it was not the fault of White that there was darkness or hunger or scarcity of water. It was the fault of Goodhead. 

“Suffering is just a word,” a frog farm hand of White called Kermit swore. “Darkness is just a word. Thirst is just a word. Hunger is just a word. Genocide of bats is just a phrase. And whether it is a word or a phrase, it is fine as long as you can take your mind off it. We, as faithful and loyal believer in White, shall overcome.”

The animals who groped around in darkness were shocked at this. The animals whose throats were parched were shocked at this. The surviving relatives of bats, who were massacred by White’s farm hand Dick-Tai were too busy mourning to be shocked by this - they were too busy looking for their dead and asking how hundreds of animals could just be massacred without consequence. 
But the farm hands had an idea. They had a solution. The reason why nothing was working on the farm was because animals were sinful, not prayerful enough and not hateful enough of Goodhead. They did not trust White enough. If only they were patient. Endure the darkness. Endure the pain. Endure the hunger. Endure the stench of massacred bats. 

And bigger altars were built for the worship of White. And louder speakers were acquired to drown out the animals who were saying that White was still White from two decades before. And they prayed:

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


1 comment:

  1. "Age turned black to White" and perhaps back to Black again! Crazy writing, always with humour! Keep doing your thing!


You fit vex, bet abeg no curse me. You hear?