All is peaceful at Fred Rugumayo’s farm in Umutara, Eastern Province. It’s morning. Birds sing in a nearby bush. Cows move leisurely grazing on fresh grass. Calves suckle their mothers. The cows are a family. These are animals but they seem to be governed by rules from civilized society. The weaker animals graze together with bigger bulls yet they feel secure and protected. They are all equal.

The herdsmen standing near the animals are in jovial mood. At least all is well by now until the same herdsman betrays the innocent animals. The cows provide milk but it’s the man who also craves for the meat.

"Where I grew up from, killing cows is sacrilege. It is part of our culture that cows are not supposed to be slaughtered,” Rugumayo begins.

As a cattle keeper, Rugumayo tells me that life is not always so serene for the cows. Life is comes to a painful and abrupt end at the slaughter house.

One day, he visited this torture chamber and it was awful, the farmer tells me. He says this has remained his "black day”.

"Cows are surely peaceful animals when are in the kraal or farm. They eat grass, drink fresh water and rest comfortably under a shed of tree if it’s too hot. When they are not satisfied they make a lot of noise,” adds Rugumayo who began tending cattle at the age of 12. Rugumayo says he cannot bring himself to slaughter a cow.

"These animals are like human beings,” Rugumayo says.

"The sight of the cow’s blood is terrible.”

The peaceful environment cows live in is clearly seen when you reach the farm. Cows live so comfortably with man due to the care he accords the animals. It is when man turns against them that this mutual relationship hits a dead end.

A visit to Rugumayo’s farm proves this. At Rugumayo’s farm, I find cows being bundled into the waiting truck to be transported to the slaughtering centre in Nyabugogo, near the main taxi park.

They are confused, not accustomed to travelling in vehicles. All are silent. Perhaps saying their last prayer. I watch in total awe as the struggle between the cows and the men loading them onto the truck unfolds. Most of the cows being whisked to the abattoir appear old.

"Suppose it was me being hounded and taken to be slaughtered,” I wonder silently. When I turn, Rugumayo is nowhere to be seen. He later tells he does not want to witness the ugly struggle.

"Most of these cows being sold off are already aged. Sometimes we do away with them due to financial benefits and then we restock the farm,” he reveals as the truck’s engine starts.

The bulls especially the castrated ones meet the worst mistreatment. They cannot give milk; they are reared for meat. Men on the truck with ropes tie up the horn so that the cows can stand where there is hardly any space.

Other cows left behind look in total bewilderment. The mood is sad. The kind left behind when a member of the family has died. I trail the truck.

On the way to the slaughtering centre, Muhire Patrick, a butcher, says that people hardly care about the cows on the truck because they are going to be killed anyway.

"They are going to become meat shortly after and we have less kind words for them,” adds Muhire as the truck speeds off. Most of the cattle reach their destination already close to death.

"On their last way journey, cows hardly breathe. They struggle and fight to get breathing space but all in vain.”

Eugène Musoni, the truck driver, tells me that their main concern is that the truck reach its final destination with all its ‘cargo’ on board no matter how.

"Of course we need to slaughter them when they are still alive because even Muslims buy our meat,” Musoni adds. He says minding about cows’ lives is a waste of time. At the abattoir, it seems to dawn on the cows that they are here to be butchered.

Here, fear grips every cow. The noise made by those under the knife is terrifying. Workers at that slaughterhouse watch them writhe in pools of their own blood.

"Cows know how their meat looks like. They don’t like it when you raise a Panga and cut meat into pieces when they are looking on,” says Munyaneza Claude, a butcher in Nyamirambo.

Ropes are tied around the horns of the cow; legs are tied together, behind and front. A man holds the rope that ties the hind legs.

Another one does the same with the front legs. Its tail is also held while other two men hold ropes that tie the horns. The cow is almost torn apart by the men pulling ropes.

At this point, the animal knows, it’s his last chance to fight. Agony and disappointment is full in their eyes. In the Rwandan culture cattle are highly valued. We need only look at cultural dances where almost all the movements imitate those of a cow.

The outstretched arms portray the horns of the cattle while the slow movements of the body and measured steps portray the cow’s gentleness and unhurried movements.

Traditionally, a man about to get married has to give lots of cows. This is done as part appreciation to the family of his future wife. Even if it’s not for marriage, here in Rwanda brotherhood is conveyed through donating a cow or two.

Timothy Nkurunziza, a cattle keeper in Eastern Province, says that although we need meat, we should get it without necessary subjecting these animals to untold suffering and torture.

"So why do humans find it necessary to inflict pain on another animal? If you must kill them for food, simply kill them, don’t torture them first,” Nkurunziza says. Journey begins.

It breathes heavily. "Is it her last breath,” I begin asking.
It doesn’t end at this though. I didn’t know that cows too shed tears! How wrong was I!

Contact: tumusteve2008@yahoo.com