Celebrating World Chicken Day

We need to talk about chickens.

(Warning: if you suffer from any chicken-related phobias, the following details and photos might trigger you. You have been warned.)

Did you know that 9 November is World Chicken Day? It's true. 

However, the existence of a day dedicated to chickens raises a few important and possibly existential questions.

1) Who decides these things?

2) Why a day for chickens? What does that even mean? Do we protect chickens on that day, or eat as many as we can?

3) Can I propose a World Tea-&-Chocolate Day? Anyone want to second me on that, leave your vote in the comments section below.

Chicken Day poses serious issues for me. I have a chicken phobia. There. I said it. 

Don't be fooled by her innocent demeanor.

It started in Peru during a bus ride through the Andes. Someone stuffed a flock of chickens under my seat. The chickens weren’t happy about being stuffed anywhere and began making noises which rapidly escalated into a feather-flying tussle.

It didn’t end well.

Who knew chickens could be so vicious? And violent!

A dear friend of mine Janet lives in a semi-rural area near me, on the outskirts of Nairobi. Janet has a small peep of chickens. Yes, a peep.

Interesting side note: a group of chickens can be referred to as a flock, a brood (if they’re a family unit), or a peep. Peep is a cute noun for a bird that isn’t cute.

When I visit Janet, who do you think the chickens follow around? (Hint: not Janet.)

One chicken in particular has an issue with me. Granted, the feeling’s mutual. Here are a few photos, just so you see how ferocious that bird is.

See how beady that eye is?

Natural born killer.

I watch her stalk around the room. No doubt she's planning how to peck and pounce on me when I least suspect it.

But I’m onto her devious devices. I meet her beady little glare with one of my own. Mine’s slightly less beady and involves less clucking, but I’m not backing down.

She's preparing to call for reinforcements.

Realizing she’s outsized, she summons the rest of her peep. They all gather at the doorway, beadily scowling at me, clucking amongst themselves as they plot my demise.

In come the troops... er, peeps...

“I don’t like you, either,” I inform the peep. “Not unless you’re on my plate as BBQ.”

Her response:

And then there’s Janet’s cat. Second side note: I’m allergic to cats. So… Who do you think that cat wants to curl up with? Yup. The lady with the cat allergies.

Any animal phobias or allergies on your end? Let me know in the comments! And if you want more stories from Kenya, sign up for my newsletter over here if you haven't already.

Cheers

Vered “Alektorophobia” Ehsani