Chickens to the Rescue – Onwubariri Emmanuel Chidube

Since I was confused with life and its difficulties, I didn’t really know what to do with the money. I thought that if I could go to the hospital and have them insert a catheter into me, I could get rid of the nylon bag. But the amount of money was too little to transport me to the hospital, or for me to consult a doctor, or for me to buy my medication. Even if i could achieve one of these with the money, what money will I use next time? I just didn’t know what to do. The best I did was to hold onto the #4000. I didn’t even buy food with it.

I decided to use the money to buy some broiler chicks. I bought eight broiler chicks for #400 per one which came to #3200. I used the #800 to but feed for the chicks. Little did I know that #800 of feed only lasts five days for them. I soon ran out feed. I couldn’t feed then because I ran out of money and no one to help me. I realized that the problem was that nobody believed that i can actually breed those chicks into full grown chickens. Soon they began to die one by one. They all died except one. The survived chick grew into a big cock. I sold it for #5000 to buy some local birds. These local birds are not like the broiler chicks. They could survive regardless of the weather or poor conditions. They don’t usually require to be feed. The only problem was having a kite, eagle or snake eating them. They rarely grow large and are sold cheaply at the market.

Soon, the three local birds that I bought started laying eggs. I had to quickly build a cage for the chicks to give them protection. Soon they grew. I sold them and used the money I made to build a zinc house for them. With the rest of the money, I bought ten more broiler chicks. I feed them for three months before I sold them. I did this every three months and my mother would help me take them to the rural market to sell.

On one occasion, the zinc house I built collapsed. It was the raining season. All my money had been invested into buying feed for the chicks. I had no choice but to divide my room into two parts, one for me and the other side for the chicks. People soon heard of it, and some said that I’ve gone mad or crazy for sleeping with birds in my room. The truth is that it wasn’t pleasant or hygienic. The smell in my room was awful and nobody would visit or come in. I got sick, but I survived. Soon I sold my chicks and used the money to rebuild the zinc house.

With the money I made selling chickens, my room was washed, plastered, and painted. Eventually, I went to the hospital, a doctor taught me how to change and fix my catheter. I no longer needed to use the nylon bag. I began to buy my medications little by little as I breed and sold my chickens every three months. I was able to buy my first phone with the money I made selling chickens.