When cows got arrested. "You have the right to remain Moo.."

I respect cows. They are peaceful. They mind their business. They provide milk. They chew slowly. They have beautiful eyes and blink knowingly.

But cows in the city?

Well, today I was walking like I always do and met cows being grazed. It is not unusual to see cows on the streets of Entebbe (is this why we are not a city yet?). There were eight. I counted. It wasn’t exactly Entebbe Town. It was a residential area, but still.

One was chewing someone’s hedge. Another had positioned itself fully on the sidewalk, so pedestrians had to “find their level.” Two were in the middle of the road, causing boda bodas and cars to move cautiously around them. The rest were generously redecorating the tarmac with dung.

And no one cared. Not the herdsman. Not the drivers. Not the pedestrians. They are an inconvenience, yes, but a tolerated one.

This situation reminded me of the day my brother’s cows were arrested.

Yes. Arrested.

My brother used to keep cows for milk. Good, hardworking cows. One day they wandered slightly beyond what the municipality considered acceptable boundaries, and some council officials arrived in their battered double cabin and impounded them like seasoned livestock detectives.

The cows were marched...well, walked, approximately three kilometers to the police station. They were coming from near the airport, which meant that to get to the station, they had to cross the very busy Entebbe–Kampala Road.

Now let’s pause there.

Imagine escorting five cows through Entebbe Road traffic to the police station, which sits right in the middle of town. Did they wait for the traffic lights? Did they have to wait for the pedestrian crossing? Did the cows instinctively understand that red means stop? They had to navigate traffic lights, weave through fast-moving cars rushing to the airport, and somehow make it across one of the busiest roads in Entebbe.

Honestly, it must have been spectacular to watch.

By the time my brother arrived at the Police Station, the cows looked like they needed legal representation, which was fortunate, because he studied Law. Naturally, a family meeting had already been convened to address this crisis.

Imagine the charge sheet:

Offense: Grazing without permit.
Exhibit A: Five exhausted cows.

Some challenges were encountered...

First problem:
Where do we put the cows?

Second problem:
Where do we get water for the cows?

It was a hot day. They had walked a long distance. The herdsman insisted the cows needed water immediately. Suddenly, the officers who had confidently arrested the cows were now searching for basins to feed the thirsty cows. Someone was dispatched to look for water.

Third problem:
What do government-arrested cows eat?

The cows had hardly grazed before they were impounded. By the time they reached the police station, they were hungry and they were not quiet about it. They began mooing loudly in front of the station, announcing their displeasure to all.  An officer was sent to search the police quarters for matooke peelings. Nothing. So my brother had to go and buy maize bran, while the herdsman was asked to find grass to cut. 

Meanwhile, as all this was happening, the cows stood there in front of the police headquarters chewing calmly, as though they had hired senior counsel and were waiting for proceedings to begin.

Then came the paperwork issue.

Apparently, the person who was supposed to register the case had left the station before completing the required documentation. No paperwork, no release. I suppose this also meant they could not obtain hoof prints.

So technically, the cows could not be released.

Procedure is procedure.

Even for cows.

An officer was therefore assigned night duty to guard five cows. They were officially in police custody, and they could not risk the suspects escaping, being stolen, or worse, contaminating the evidence. I still wonder what his report looked like.

“Night was calm. Suspects remained cooperative. One attempted to moo assertively at 23:00 hours.”

By the time everything was sorted the next day, fine paid, paperwork located, and the cows finally released, etc, everyone involved had learned one important lesson: arresting cows is more complicated than it sounds. The logistics were bigger than the crime. 

If we are going to have urban cows, perhaps we need designated cow lanes and proper bovine holding facilities. Eish, because what begins as a simple “arrest the cows” operation quickly becomes an unexpected comedy.

But one thing is for sure, the officers cared for the cows. And that, oddly enough, was heartwarming.

Post Script

Are you curious to know what it would have looked like if the cows went to court. Read: The Republic vs. Five Cows