A THANKFUL DOVE(JUSTIN LAGAT) Walking along a footpath towards home one bright Friday morning, I thought I saw some grass shake a few meters from the path. I cautiously moved closer to check what it was, and it was neither a rat nor a snake as I had expected. It was a beautiful grey dove struggling to crawl away apparently being unable to fly. Despite the panic over the Asian flu that was making headlines at newsrooms then, I crouched beside it and was quick to notice a wound on its back. I held it gently in my hands careful not to hurt it as it literally vibrated with fear and fright, but in a few seconds of my gentle stroking on its neck, the shaking subsided considerably as though an engine inside it had suddenly been shut down. I was touched by the way it rested calmly on my hand in a way that showed it was beginning to trust that I only had good plans for it. If it would talk, I can only imagine what it would have said!

“Do you think I am going to survive?” perhaps it would have asked.

“I am sorry; I can’t assure you of that. You are badly injured and your chances of surviving are really slim, but I will definitely try all my best to help you”, would have been my reply. I am not I doctor, so don’t question my professionalism.

Looking closely at the wound, it appeared as though some wild, human or domestic animal, had taken a deep bite on it. And perhaps as that animal looked for some water to help gulp down the lump in its throat, the dove (I mean the fraction that remained) had escaped and a few moments later, was on my hands. I have once eaten dove meat, and it was very delicious. But, looking down at the trusting, calm, beautiful and suffering one on my hands then, I felt a lot of compassion for it, and decided to take it home and help it survive.

There was a room that was rarely in use at home. It acted as a store of some farm tools like knapsack sprayers, oxen yolks and hoes, spades, hooks, etc. I was certain that no one was going to open that room for the next one week and so decided to secretly keep my recuperating dove in it. I took some water and a clean rag and carefully washed around the wound, apart from the shaking that ensued during the process, I didn’t see any other indication that it was against my washing it. I brought some maize grains, gnashed them between my teeth then tried to force them down its throat. It was a hard process because it refused to swallow anything and after some time of trying opening its beak and pouring water in it, I felt that at least something to sustain it must have at last reached its stomach – well, again I am not a scientist and I have no idea where the food goes after leaving the beak!

For its security, I never wanted any of my siblings to know about it and so could not spend much time in the room for fear that one may decide to come in and find out what I was doing there. I crushed some grains into small pieces and left them with a bowl of water on the ground beside it and closed the door. I would come and check on it a number of times later, and it was a bit disheartening to see that it had not been feeding on what I had left for it. I forced a little more grains down its beak in the evening before going to sleep.

The following day, I woke up earlier than my usual time. Upon entering the room to check on how it was doing, I was glad to find it in another corner further from where I had left it in the evening, and this meant that at last it had began walking about in the room on its own! I also checked the food I had left for it and it had eaten some! It seemingly looked like I was going to have a good day ahead. I did not think it needed any more supply of food, so I closed the door behind me and went to prepare myself to go to church.

While at church, the sermon must have literally been entering my head through one ear and exiting through the other one and having no effect at all on my brain as my mind was constantly on the dove. It was a great relief when the service finally ended and I headed straight to check on it.

I opened the door and my heart missed a beat. I could not see it anywhere. A cloud of worry and panic began to hover around me. A number of questions crossed my mind. Had anyone opened the room and found it while I was away? Had a cat eaten it? Suddenly, as I was still engrossed in these thoughts, I heard some feathers shuffle and saw it fly from the rafters directly towards me! I almost screamed in fright. It hovered about my head for some seconds before landing at a table close to where I stood. I slowly moved towards it trying to catch it, but it kept a safe distance from me occasionally flying around and over my head in a playful manner! If only it could let me check on its wound! What amazed me was the fact that it would fly up to one of the openings where the wall met the roof, but instead of flying away would fly back towards me! I coupled this with the fact that all the time I was in church, the dove could have decided to fly away, but it had instead waited patiently for me to arrive so that it could thank me before flying away to check on the welfare of its family! It flew again to the opening, stood there for a moment and looked back at me before finally flying away towards the direction I had brought it from, leaving me with nothing but the greatest joy that only comes from helping others in need, seeing them come out of their difficulties and appreciating what you have done for them, in a special way!

To date, whenever I see a dove, I cannot help but wonder if it is the same one!

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