One of the enduring memories of many African childhoods I am sure, are those folktales, you know those of the crafty tortoise, the speedy hare or the proud peacock. I had the benefit of having been involved in one, although of a tragic sort. I fear you might find mine mundane compared with those exotic childhood fables, but it is mine and dear to me and hopefully you will find it entertaining.

Chickens are the principal actors in this tale, and no surprise, cause many familiies, urban or otherwise often rear poultry for various reasons. We had a full sized shed in those days. A modest effort for not even part time farmers. I guess it was just to keep my housewife mum busy, and she had a good go at it. She sold some, but we ate most. It was always going to be a stretch trying to manage a poultry business with five budding males to feed including Dad. But prior to their consumption the chickens had us entertained. Feeding them in the mornings, they would clamber all over each other to get to the meal, a poultry stampede if you like. I think we humans can learn a lot from chickens when it comes to stampedes. We never lost one single chicken to these mornig rituals, shocking when you consider the tragic tales from India during their religious festivals.

The chickens had to be separated of course, there being different types and all. You had the layers, the broilers and ‘the agric’ etc. The last was a name pecuiliar to we Nigerians I reckon, you know we Nigerians are very good at that, giving nicknames and all. Funny thing was agric in urban Yoruba parlance also was used to describe someone with soft bones, a weakling. A chap with no cahoonies. I would know cause my Grandma used to call me that. The old woman loved me to bits but she could tease like they was no tomorrow.

Oh well, I never minded the ‘agric’ moniker cause our shed was ruled by one of the ‘agric’ group. We named him King Kong, a big bustling bull of a chicken he was. His black spotted coat glistened in the sun I swear, and his crow rang loudest in the morning. His harem was the largest and none of the other male chickens dared to disturb his partners, and when any did, they paid for it. I remember once while playing in the backyard, one of the pretenders to the ‘King of the Shed’ throne was having a go at climbing a member of King Kong’s harem. She gave a good fight she did, but she was no match for the Hot bastard. King Kong was somewhere else at the time, so the usurper was trying to have his cake and eat and more besides. The female gave a loud cry she did, and what do you know, there was the impressive sight of King Kong, all chicken sinews taut, aerodynamic wings, he glided across the ground, a . I can remember watching with music playing in my head. You know that Chariots of Fire theme, ta ta na na ta ta na na na, it was the perfect backdrop to the scene. The cowardly chicken didn’t even put up a fight. It simply skittered away, a stark contrast to King Kong’s entree. . . . . .

Rotflmao!!!

Chicken/King Kong - Nice use of of. . . can't remember the word again. Gah!!


You know that Chariots of Fire theme, ta ta na na ta ta na na na, it was the perfect backdrop to the scene.

Thanks alot for that image.


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A mere cock, king kong? What a laugh!!! Nice piece of writing by the way. Are you sure you're not a comic?