A short article detailing the dangers facing the lifestyle of the Fulani herdsmen.


DISAPPEARING NOMADS
The sun had not reached the peak of its power for the day, and the asphalt coated road seem lonely except for the occasional movement of commercial motorcycle operators, on the prowl for passengers to convey to other parts of the town for a fee. A group of four children, on the way to school, seem to fancy their chance against a big mango tree, richly populated with ripe and raw fruits, one of many, which appear to have made a guard of honor for users of the long stretch of road. Birds could be heard singing, apparently in praise of the mango tree to which they showed their appreciation for providing breakfast for them.
At the end of the road emerged some huge figures, moving awkwardly, some, colored white, black and others a mixture of both. These massive beasts, with horns of varying sizes, protruding out of either side of their foreheads strolled in a disorderly fashion. Their intimidating presence and movement caused other road users to make way for them. Some had to jump over the one-meter water drainage on either side of the road, just to avoid being gored by the beasts. The cowboy, a tall young man probably in his twenties, with dark curly hair, brown skin, wearing tight-fitting jumper pants, tries hard to keep them in order. He barks at them and sometimes beat them with a long, sturdy staff. He also carried a sword, water bottle and had a hat made of raffia palm delicately balanced on his head.
By seagulsntrawler