Today we stopped by a chicken place for lunch. It served greens, chicken, and Ugali. We heard some clucking behind the fence. Dad said, “Well, at least it’s fresh,”. Occasionally some chickens were thrown inside. Then a man came in with a knife. Not a single chicken survived. Later the kids looked inside and saw that they were feathering, decapitating, gutting, and cleaning the now dead chickens.

The food was yummy. And the chicken…. its death was honored enough by being cooked well, tasting yummy and ending up in our bellies. I think that if you go to that restaurant too, you’ll say the same.