The colorful pig, which was tied up with a rope in the betel nut garden near the house, was busy destroying a wasp’s nest this morning. Seeing that it was about to give birth, Rwisumwi had kept it tied near the house every day. Because the smell of its feces and urine would waft in with the wind from time to time, her husband had requested her to tie it further away.
The husband used to say repeatedly:
“It will catch a disease and die. Such a terrible smell is spreading around. It is in conditions like this that people end up catching all kinds of diseases and illnesses.”
The wife replied:
“Just wait for a couple of days. It is very close to giving birth; if it is tied far away, it won’t be possible to manage and take care of it in time. The wind is also somehow blowing straight toward us, otherwise, it wouldn’t smell this much.”
The daughter, Roji, also said a couple of times:
“Rearing a pig is fine, but keeping it clean is better. It is because of the smell of its feces and urine that people fall into sickness and disease. When people get sick, they have to suffer from financial troubles.”
Rwisumwi replied again…
Since ancient times, the Bodo people have reared pigs as a form of farming. Although they are reared for consumption, they are primarily raised to manage the financial struggles of the family. By selling piglets, one can fulfill the necessary needs of the household.
People think in various ways about rearing pigs. Some feel that if pigs are reared, our yards and gardens become dirty, and the piglets ruin our courtyard and verandas by digging them up. The feces and urine of pigs emit a terrible stench. It also causes diseases and illnesses. Despite having to care for them through a lot of hard work, some people still rear pigs keeping the financial benefits in mind. Rwisumwi had also reared the pig with this exact thought. There was no other source of income. She thought about meeting the necessary expenses of the household by rearing creatures like chickens, pigs, goats, and ducks right at home and inside the home garden.
Seeing the pig trying to build a nest by gathering betel nut husks, dubri grass, and dry twigs, Rwisumwi became very happy. Untying the mother pig that was kept tied to the betel nut tree, Rwisumwi helped it in building the nest. Rwisumwi brought straw from the haystack that was kept piled up for the cattle near their veranda and gave it to the mother pig. Raisumai spread it out a bit so that the pregnant pig could lie down there and give birth to its piglets. Thinking that there wouldn’t be much trouble now, Rwisumwi returned toward the house after spreading out the straw. She kept working on her household chores attentively. Time and again, she kept glancing toward the heavy-bellied pig that was about to give birth.
A short moment later, the pregnant pig finally gave birth. Hearing the cries of the piglets, Rwisumwi brought her old, discarded Dokhona (traditional Bodo dress) and came near. Spreading out the Dokhona, she gently cleaned and released the newborn piglets. She helped the piglets as much as possible so they could nurse. The newborn piglets…
The son, Alangbar, also received the news of the birth. He came close to take a look. His mother said to him:
“No, young ones shouldn’t come close right now. Go check on the rice kept cooking on the hearth. The firewood is very dry and burning intensely; otherwise, the rice will get completely burnt.”
Hearing his mother’s restriction, Alangbar did not go any closer. He called out and asked his mother from a distance:
“Mother, how many piglets are there?”
While assisting with the birth of the piglets, the mother sent a reply back to Alangbar.
The birth of the piglets had just started.
With mud smeared on his face, the father had just returned to the courtyard after working in the fields. Alangbar informed his father:
“Father, our pig has given birth to piglets again! This time, when you sell the piglets, you must buy me a new pair of pants.”
Hearing Alangbar’s words, the father (Laothai) also became very happy. Putting his farming tools and staff away behind the granary, he walked closer. Rwisumwi (the mother) was taking care of the mother pig and the newborns inside the pen. Seeing her husband coming toward her, Rwisumwi smiled gently. Looking at her face, Laothai asked:
“How many are there?”
“There are twelve.”
“Is everything okay?”
“There were thirteen. But one was born dead. Poor thing… and so on.”
“How many of them are male piglets (bunda)?”
“There are eight male piglets.”
“There are more males? Wow, that’s incredibly fortunate!”
When selling in the market, pig traders pay a higher price for male piglets (bunda) than for female ones (bundi), whose price is slightly lower. Because more male piglets were born, both the husband and wife, Laothai and Rwisumwi, were immensely happy.
After having their midday meal, Laothai built a small shed (gondra) to keep the mother pig and her litter. These days, it had been raining heavily and continuously. To ensure that the mother pig and her piglets could stay comfortable even if it rained heavily, he made the roof out of plastic sheet material. To make sure they could sleep comfortably, he gathered plenty of straw from the granary stack and spread it out inside for them.
In this manner, about seven days passed. The piglets were doing well. When it came to nursing from their mother, they had to jostle and compete with one another. The ones that were cleverer managed to feed more and consequently grew much faster. Those that lacked strategic cleverness and strength remained small and stunted. The ones with no strength at all failed to grow well.
Morning, noon, afternoon, and evening—Rwisumwi spent her entire time constantly looking after them. Somehow, she kept worrying constantly that the mother pig might accidentally crush them by rolling over, or that a fox might sneak in, or that something bad might happen.
Today, around noon, Rwisumwi was busy cooking and preparing food. Except for her youngest daughter, all the other children had gone to school. Her husband was also away, plowing the fields. She kept walking in and out of the kitchen repeatedly. Using the leftover yarn from her mother’s recent weaving, the little girl, Dengkhw, was busy weaving a small cloth using little sticks in the corner of the veranda. Meanwhile, the piglets were scrambling against each other to nurse from their mother, making loud, squealing noises. Just at that moment, one of the piglets began to squeal intensely and loudly…
Dengkhw heard it. Hearing the noise, she ran to the kitchen to inform her mother, who was busy stirring a frying pan over the hearth.
“Mother, one of the piglets is crying very loudly!”
Upon hearing this, Rwisumwi immediately rushed to the pigpen. One of the piglets was squealing agonizingly. Rwisumwi saw that the mother pig had rolled over and completely crushed one of the piglets underneath her body. Despite struggling and writhing for a brief moment, the piglet died shortly after.
Holding the dead piglet, Rwisumwi felt a mix of intense anger and deep sorrow. In her anger, she searched for a stick, and upon finding one, she struck the mother pig hard across her back, scolding her:
“What kind of a mother are you? You completely rolled over and crushed your own baby! How can you be so oblivious and careless?”
Coming close to her, Dengkhw asked:
“What happened, Mother?”
“It’s gone, it’s dead. The mother pig rolled over and crushed one of her babies, my child.”
“What will we do with this dead piglet now, Mother?”
“We will dig a hole and bury it.”
Holding the dead piglet, Rwisumwi stood completely frozen for a moment. Tears streamed down heavily from both of her eyes. Carrying the grief of losing a piglet in her heart, she walked back toward the house a moment later. She placed the dead piglet in the verandah/outbuilding area. Because it had been heavily crushed by such a large mother pig, its bowels had been completely squeezed out from its hind end, leaving it covered in filth.
When Laothai returned from the fields and saw the dead piglet, he was shocked. As soon as he saw it, he spoke…
“How did a dead piglet end up here? What on earth happened for it to die?”
Rwisumwi walked over and said:
“The sinful mother pig rolled over and crushed it just a little while ago. It was a male one (bunda), too. Poor thing, it was growing so plump and healthy. It would have fetched such a good profit once fully grown!”
“How did this happen, sigh…”
Saying this, Laothai walked over toward the pigpen. He stood there for a moment, staring intently at the remaining piglets nursing from their mother. Seeing the piglets scrambling, shoving, and fighting among themselves for their mother’s milk, he reflected to himself that survival is not easy. To sustain oneself and to keep one’s body healthy, one has to jostle, compete, and fight even among one’s own brothers and sisters. Without struggle, how can one survive? But merely surviving isn’t enough; nobody thinks about just staying alive. One must survive, but one must strive to survive in the best way possible.