As I welcomed my Nanay with her basketful of vegetables and
fruits, she told our driver to butcher
the hen. I didn't know what butcher
looked like then. For me, it was simply putting an animal to sleep.
As I was running
around the compound, I saw the hen and petted her one more time. Our driver
walked in and told me it was time to let go of the hen.
He knelt down and
grabbed the hen. I saw he had with him a bolo.
I got scared for the hen.
I started crying. I
kept telling Ka Ito not to hurt the hen.
I was pushing him away.
But I was a child.
I stomped my feet. I
cried "No" repeatedly. I told them not to hurt the hen.
Sooner, I saw how
the hen had its throat slit. Its blood gushing out of its head as our driver
held it from its two feet.
My Nanay asked me to get inside. So I did. But I
kept crying. I never even gave my hen a name.
After a few hours, I
was seated at the dining table and I saw the fried chicken there on the plate.
I cried again. I
didn't want to eat it. But my Nanay was
strict. She told me to eat it. I refused at first but she had a spoonful of
rice with chicken pointed at my mouth. I opened my mouth while I was crying
still. I chewed on it but the insides of me wanted to puke. My little hen. My
little hen.
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I was in second year
high school. I was in the province visiting my brother. My Mama and I went to
the market.
As we were walking
around the stinky meat section, I suddenly heard a howling cow. It was wailing.
I looked at the direction of the sound and saw a man with a metal baseball bat.
He was batting the cow in between its eyes. Each time he batted, the cow would
howl and wail.
Mama, the cow! I started shedding tears. I
couldn't believe that was how they butcher cows. I was reminded of the hen I
witnessed being butchered.
For weeks I couldn't
eat any form of meat. I couldn't tell the people around me that I felt bad for
the cow. I didn't people around me to think I was a cry baby.
I found myself
eating meat again. But I knew something inside me was not for it.
As I was traveling
from the province to my school in Quezon City, a truckload of pig stopped
beside the window of the bus where I was in.
I saw the pig shed a
tear. And I couldn't forget that picture.
I was reminded of
the hen. I was reminded of the cow. I was reminded of the violence.
Several years after,
I made a decision. If I couldn't bear seeing them get hurt, why the fuck am I
eating them?
Then I learned of
the wrong information fed to us by animal agriculture giants: that we are supposed to eat meat as if that is the main reason animals were created. We were fed information that animals are healthy. What a baloney!
Let's be kind to them. They feel as we do. They feel as your pets do. If we can't take care of them, let's not hurt them. They don't deserve to be hurt like popular media tell us so. They are sentient beings. They deserve respect too.
Not killing animals but paying others to kill them for you so you could eat them is simply as brutal. Now tell me if you could look an animal straight in the eye and kill it and eat it after you have heard it beg for its life.
Let's be vegan.
Let's be kind to them. They feel as we do. They feel as your pets do. If we can't take care of them, let's not hurt them. They don't deserve to be hurt like popular media tell us so. They are sentient beings. They deserve respect too.
Not killing animals but paying others to kill them for you so you could eat them is simply as brutal. Now tell me if you could look an animal straight in the eye and kill it and eat it after you have heard it beg for its life.
Let's be vegan.

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