Horse Meat

If there is ever a bizarre story it has to be this one. An ex worker called Timot left our employment to work for an Indian called Aslam. We would see Timot from time to time in the company of Aslam and on a few occasions they would drop by to discuss horse matters. I always assured Aslam of Timot's substantial knowledge of horses and Timot always received a very warm welcome.

So you can imagine my intense horror when I received a breathless phone call from Denzia in the early hours of the morning. She had received a call from the Veterinary Department who informed her that horse meat had been found in the market and they believed it was one of our horses. I tore off down to the paddocks to count heads but I was more than certain that every horse was accounted for as we had fed and inspected both paddocks a few hours earlier. A quick count satisfied me that all were safe. It had to be Zimofa 35km away where we have the mares.

The woman who was selling the meat at the market was picked up by the Veterinary Department. While I lay on the bed with a pillow over my head pleading for some form of sedation, Denzia headed for the police station to try and identify the woman. To her utter astonishment it was Timot's wife. After questioning her it was revealed that Timot had set off on one of Aslam's horses, he rode 35km to Zimofa farm. He then cut the fencing wire, rounded up the mares and put a halter on one of them and rode back to Chimoio leading his victim. On arrival at his house in town, she was slaughtered and hung up on a tree. In the early hours of the morning they chopped her up with an axe and his wife caught a lift to the market where they tried to sell the meat for a pittance.

Much to Denzia's exasperation the formalities of laying a charge ran into several hours. It appeared the Commandant wanted to see the horse meat. She phoned Murray Dawson the abattoir owner who was in town at the time and asked if she could borrow the truck to pick up the meat. Murray obliged but on arrival quickly assessed that the Commandant was hopelessly drunk. After several hours of filling in forms Denzia's exasperation turned to red hot anger. They made the abrupt decision to leave and try a higher authority in the morning.. It was then the Commandant through a drunken haze sullenly decided that he would impound Murray's truck as it held the evidence. Suddenly as it happens in Mozambique Murray and Denzia were now the accused.

While Denzia and Murray were negotiating the truck's release I had to resurrect myself from my bed and attend to four guests who had booked a ride from the Pink Papaya Backpacker Lodge. Pasting a huge smile on my face I attended to the horses and tried hard to entertain my clients with amusing anecdotes of life in Chimoio.. Just as I was about to hoist myself into the saddle Murray's truck arrived with Denzia hanging out of the window gesticulating wildly. Before Denzia could warn us the doors of the truck were flung open and out tumbled several bags of horse meat including Dejevous's severed head. One of Pat's favourite mares. I watched in stunned disbelief as Dejevous's head rolled towards me and came to a grisly standstill near my feet. You can imagine the horrified shock of the riders. A gentle introduction to savage Africa.

Murray's truck had eventually been released by a higher authority much to the drunk commandant's dismay. Murray was told to take the meat and bury it immediately and they would continue with the charges in the morning. Forgetting that I had an outride the truck was brought to the stables so our workers could bury the meat. The horses that were tacked for the ride suddenly went wild as they caught a whiff of the bloodshed. Leaping over Dejevous's head I had to grab the reins of a rearing horses and pacify our visibly shaken clients.

Just another day in Africa.

Best regards,

Amanda,
Casa Bella,
Mozambique