“BAANS,” yelled out Catechist, Anthony Bhemo. I slammed on the brakes of the Potoho red jeep as I crashed into the big black water buffalo. We were traveling out in the early morning to be present at a “Tupna.” A “Tupna” is a cultural prayer service that is performed about one week before the marriage of a bride and bridegroom. During this period of quiet retreat, the young person has time to prepare for his or her wedding.
I had seen a herd of buffaloes pass over the road in front of me. Then suddenly this one realized that it was well behind the others and so bounded onto the road directly in front of me. It bellowed out “mooo” as I collided with it and rolled it over from the impact of the jeep. I had a sigh of relief when I saw it rise onto its feet again.
Before I joined the Columban missionaries, for several years I was a dairy farmer in the Kokatahi Valley of Westland in the South Island of New Zealand. I, therefore, should have known better as when a cow is separated from the herd, it reacts and gallops to be re-united with them again. Soon, some people gathered around. When the situation allowed for conversation, we talked with those who cared for the water buffaloes. I told them, “We are going to a prayer service and after a couple of hours on my return, we will come and meet with you.” This gave me the chance to ring for reinforcements and people to help out in the ensuing negotiations. I inspected the concerned animal and noted that it was not badly injured. Therefore, my experience told me that this buffalo would produce good milk after the birth of its calf.
“Offer them 30,000 Rupees for damages, or the price of the animal,” was the advice from my colleagues. I felt relieved when they turned down the 30,000 Rupees and insisted that I purchase the animal. A man in a nearby village stated, “I will care for the buffalo.” When the calf was born this family had the benefit of “pure milk.” Often milk is sold after adding water to it; this milkman is referred to as “a milkman with no faith.” At times I visited and inspected the cow and calf and found them in good condition. Later I was surprised to receive news that the calf had died. We wondered if this was true, and so I transferred the cow to another family.
Some time passed and I was transferred to be “shepherd” to Parkari Tribal people who had immigrated to Karachi where they worked in factories. I was also responsible to be with Tribal people who lived in villages some distance from the mega city of Karachi as landless peasant farmers who tilled the crops and cared for the animals of the landlords. I arranged for the buffalo and her new calf to be transported to a village in this area. On their arrival, we were surprised to see the buffalo kicking the calf away so that it could not get milk from her. We had understood that the new calf was a heifer yet the one that was sent down was a bull. “What to do!” as we often have to exclaim in Pakistan.
The mother was made to feed the calf and then after a while was pulled away while two women of the village obtained the remaining milk from her udder. The buffalo would never allow me to milk her. Perhaps she recalled that I was the driver of the jeep that hit her. In early 2024 there was great excitement when a healthy heifer calf was born. Once again, we are “share milking” with this calf and have a good supply of fresh pure milk to brew tasty Pakistani chai (tea leaves brewed with water, milk and much sugar).
Columban Fr. Daniel O’Connor lives and works in Pakistan.