I have always liked goats. No because my horoscope sign is the Capricorn, represented by a goat, but because they provide rather juicy ribs. But that is a story for another day.
Of course, one of these days, you must remind me to conclude all the stories, which we mark as “for another day”. It’s good to keep promises, you know. That’s how we media folks develop what is called credibility. Again, let us talk about this another day. No need to worry ourselves about such abstract stuff as credibility.
Talking about credibility, you must have heard about that goat that caused a stir in the august House. Yes, you heard right, a goat!
You and I know that our lawmakers make plenty of noise around Parliament but the bleating of a goat around there is something new.
That is what happened late last week when Nominated MP,David ole Sankok brought the four-legged animal to the precincts.
Although Sankok is endowed with a good sense of humour, his intention was not to cause mischief. Rather, he planned to fete a Kenya Wildlife Service warder, one Philip Wesa, for what you and I can refer to as selfless service.
You see, Wesa went beyond the call of duty to carry on his back a girl who has a physical disability, Deborah Nyaboke, to accompany her colleagues up a hilly cliff to enjoy a panoramic view of Chania Falls at the Aberdares National Park or some such facility.
The girl had been left behind in the school bus and would have missed out on that bit of the trip.
To reward Nyaberi and to give him strength to do such selfless acts in future, Sankok brought him a goat.
That was when the drama started. The goat, true to his (her?) nature, managed to free himself from the rope and voila! He tasted freedom. Let us digress a bit and give our goat some gender identity, which must be male, as you will see shortly.
Apparently, the long trip to the city may have caused stiff joints and a full bladder because even as parliamentary staff and KWS warders gave chase, the goat was too agile for them and ended up in the men’s loo.
I am reliably informed that before the goat could make out where he was, male MPs caught doing their thing in the loo scampered for cover.
There is word doing the rounds on social media that one actually attempted to jump through a window, perhaps wondering what sort of goat found his way to the hallowed grounds, and further traced the loo.
Can you picture an MP scaling a wall like a lizard to escape from a goat?
Done with the business of the loo, the goat proceeded to the chamber, where he caused more drama. Maybe our animal rights are not up to scratch, but that is also a story for another day.
Now, my memory is not exactly bad, and I recall many of our MPs breathing fire during public rallies, foaming at the mouth and threatening real and imagined enemies with all manner of consequences for this or the other.
Indeed, one MP (now deceased) earned himself the nickname “bull of Auckland” for his exploits with the opposite gender while out on a trip in Australia, many years ago.
So, how could an MP be afraid of a goat, whether in a loo at Parliament Buildings or out there in the bundus?
How on earth would a goat be seen as life threatening? Or am I missing out something here?
Next time you order goat meat, spare a thought for the animal, knowing its kin was the first to enter Parliament. Of course you will have no way of knowing whether the one you are eating is related to Sankok’s goat. But that is beside the point.
The point is that this one lived beyond its owner’s animal farm. I mean a real one, not that of Mr Jones, in a book by George Orwell by the same name. I hope Sankok has another famous goat. I told you I love goats?