The Surprising World of Colourist Chickens
I must begin by informing you that the title of this piece is as literal as it gets. I am not trying to allude to anything other than the fact that chickens —the beautiful poultry animals we all know (and love?)—which often bear the brunt of Christmas and many festivities, can also be colourist.
I recall reading in an interesting fact book that chickens see colour, which makes their vision somewhat better than dogs that can only see in black and white. Turns out it wasn't so factual, as I later discovered that dog vision is actually dichromatic. At the time, I must have simply thought it an interesting fact, till it came rushing to memory a few years later as we (my family) started backyard chicken rearing.
Let's proceed to the genesis of my chicken adventures, shall we? The first set of chickens we owned were lookalike white-feathered cockerels. I remember being scared of them for a good minute till I realised that I could leverage food to exert some dominance over them. So, whenever I hit a stick on the front door as an invitation to eat, I enjoyed seeing them race towards me. Although I suffered one too many pecks, I eventually grew fond of those little rascals. Unfortunately, we had to say goodbye to this set due to a case of accidental food poisoning. Shortly after, we received a batch of day-old (or thereabout) layers from a family friend and vet (God bless you Dr. Agbato).
I hold so many fond memories of these layers in my heart. I fondly recall the Sunday we returned from church to discover the first laid egg, carefully placed by a corner in our compound. It was such a joyous occasion, much like whenever we notice a new bunch of plantains sprouting from our trees at home. There's just something about new life that fills the heart with joy and hope. Back to our chickens, they were eight in number. We even gave some of them names. We had Whitey and Fatty whose distinguishable features earned them those names. Our previous experience meant that we took extra care with this set, concerning feeding and their overall welfare.
However, not quite long after they grew from cute little chicks to budding mamas, we noticed that one of them was getting bullied by the others. The victim—Whitey—had lighter-colored feathers that distinguished it from the dark brown hues of others. Turns out the rest of the flock noticed this and started picking on her. When it was time to eat, they would peck at her and drive her away so she wouldn't get to the food. It got so bad that we had to start feeding her separately.
I remember discussing with my brother, trying to decipher where they could have picked this naughty habit from. The flock was mostly led by Fatty, the largest, who used her size to exert dominance when harrassing Whitey. It was painful to watch, but there wasn't much we could do to change things. It's not like organising a group counselling session or campaigning against colourism would have changed anything. I honestly wish I could tell you that I got to the bottom of the issue before they ended up in our pots, but that would be far from the truth. Till now, I wonder why the colour of their feathers served as a basis for oppression and what can be done to change such behaviour.
Alas, this was one of those experiences that made me wonder how much we truly know or care about the other occupants of this world we live in. Now, I would like to hear from you. Is this your first time learning that chickens can be colourists? What do you make of the whole experience and how do you think it could have been handled better? I'll be looking forward to your comments.
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Till next time, beautiful one.
