A live cow for the price of 3 kg of meat

• Despair rises as price of a goat falls to the equivalent of a kilo of meat at a butchery

The rains have failed again, and residents of Kitui West in Eastern Province have been hit hard by the dry spell.

Across the district rivers have evaporated, and residents spend most their time searching for water.

Food, too, is hard to come by and when it is available, it is beyond the reach of the majority of families that have exhausted their resources dealing with the challenges of the drought now in its third consecutive year.

With no respite in sight, people are selling off their livestock in a desperate attempt to put food on the table.

Now bare

And the sun-scorched farms have no food for the farmers or their livestock. The once lush grazing areas are now barren.

For those residents with a little money to spare, getting fodder for livestock is a major task.

People fetch hay wherever it is available by pick-ups or donkey carts. A bale of hay sells for between Sh400 and Sh600. This is just enough to feed a cow for a day. A thin sheaf of grass sells for Sh10.

“What we do is literally cheat the cows. We use dry banana fibres to conceal sisal so that cows don’t know the difference,” said Titus Nyanzu.

The options for many of those who own livestock have narrowed to this: sell now – at a throwaway price – or watch the animals starve to death.

Many of the farmers are not only selling their animals at ridiculously low prices but are also putting paid to any hopes of ever restocking.

When the Sunday Nation visited Kabati Town in Kitui West on Thursday, it was the livestock market day, and there was a lot of livestock on sale.

And that is where the team met two sisters, Mumbua and Kalekye, who were selling two goats. They had arrived at the market early in the morning hoping to sell their goats and buy some food.

For the previous two days, they and their 67-year-old mother had survived on water.

Though they knew that the goats would not fetch much, they hoped to get some money to buy food to last a few days.

In ordinary circumstances, the two sisters could have sold their goats for at least Sh5,000 and bought enough food to feed the family for a couple of months. But these are not ordinary times, and the sisters knew it.

They set the selling price at Sh2,000 for both goats. The first trader to take interest was a Mr Rono, who removed a big wad of notes and peeled off four one hundred shilling notes and offered them.

“You don’t need to waste any more time here,” he told them. The sisters declined, and he walked away.

An hour later, he was back, and the sisters were willing to take Sh1,800. But he stuck to his initial offer and walked away again.

By the time he appeared an hour later, they were willing to take Sh1,000. After another round of haggling, the sisters went down to Sh800 then to Sh700, but Mr Rono would only offer them Sh500. The sisters, now clearly in a panic, asked for Sh600.

Smiling, Mr Rono took the two goats and, for the price of two kilogrammes of meat, they parted with the last of their family’s livestock.

“We don’t have a choice. It’s past midday. If we don’t sell now, we won’t be able to do it today. The next market day is Thursday next week. By then, the goats will have starved to death,” Kalekye said.

The two goats were the last pair in the family’s herd of 18 goats. The ther 16--and four cows--were also sold at throwaway prices.

The story of Mumbua and Kalekye can be repeated in almost every family in the region. Kabati market has been invaded by traders from distant places who buy livestock for a song and go on to make huge profits because the price of meat in butcheries has not changed.

Without food

That day Francis Maluni was selling the last of his cattle – two bulls. Without food for his family and oxen, the father of five children, three of whom are high school, hoped to get at least Sh4,000 for them.

“At one time I could have sold them at Sh25,000 each,” he said wistfully.

Jemima Muse, who had travelled from Mutonguni with her herdsboy to sell her two cows, said she would never keep livestock again after disposing of the two animals. Each of her cows would have fetched Sh15,000 some time back, but she knew she would be lucky to get Sh1,000 for one. She might have settled for Sh500.

“Can you imagine that?” she asked. “A whole cow for the price of two kilogrammes of meat! And the price of meat hasn’t gone down, even here at Kabati. The butchers and traders are making huge profits out of our misery.”

But she said she was ready to sell the animals at whatever price.

“I can’t take them back home. They will certainly die,” she said sadly.