-replies to the editorial team-

It was graduation day in Gweru, a bustling town known for its lively atmosphere and the prominent roundabout in the center. The air was filled with anticipation and excitement as the motorcade of a high-ranking official passed through. I, however, was occupied with a more humble task—herding my goats to the paddock.

As I and my goats approached the road, the first motorcycle of the motorcade zoomed past us at full speed. Startled, one of my teenage goats, affectionately called Gotora, mistook the speeding bike for another goat. Without warning, the Gotora (the senior male) leaped into the road, stopping in its tracks to face the oncoming police car. To my horror, the Gotora (the senior male one) began to headbutt the vehicle.

In a matter of seconds, the entire herd followed suit, swarming onto the road. Chaos ensued as the police and soldiers accompanying the motorcade tried to comprehend the bizarre scene. Instead of assisting me in herding the goats off the road, they began to bombard me with absurd questions.

“Did you put bombs in these goats?” one soldier demanded.

“Who sent you?” another questioned suspiciously.

“Do you have iron balls?” a third asked incredulously.

As I frantically tried to remove the goats from the road, the situation grew more tense. The soldiers and police decided to take me and my goats to a local camp for further investigation. I was left there, bewildered and anxious, while the presidential guard dealt with the unruly goats. In a display of power, a few of the goats were shot.

The atmosphere in the camp was grim until an astonishing revelation came to light—the goats belonged to the president himself. The realization struck the officials with immediate regret. To make amends, the soldiers paid for the goats they had killed, and in an unexpected twist, my family and I were allowed to take the goats home to feast upon.

That day, what began as a simple task of herding my goats turned into an unforgettable encounter with the might of authority, ending in a surprising and somewhat bittersweet conclusion.- By Tafadzwa Sarirai

REPLY: CAN YOU EXPLAIN HOW ON EARTH YOUR GOATS MANAGED TO GET TO THE MOVING MOTORCADE, UNLESS IT HAD BEEN STOPPED BY OTHER ANIMALS IN THE ROAD