The Voiceless

The Cry of a Mother

My innocence was crushed down the day they took my neighbour. She was lovely, probably the prettiest of us all. She had this elegant walk, high chin and yet, profound tenderness for others. I thought she was always going to be around. Her departure put an end to my childhood. It had been a year that I had known her, along with the dozen others in this family farm. I was not born here though. I was brought here by one of them. I have no memory of my early days, so I reckon I was very young when they took me away from whatever my life was at the beginning. It would not be fair to complain about my childhood though. I loved to jump and run and dance in the meadow. A ball of energy, living life one day at a time with no worries at all. I would never question why all of the others went three times a day in a huge warehouse without me. God how much I would have loved to never know what happened there. In the meantime I noticed nothing, feared nothing.

A little after my neighbour disappeared, I was isolated from my friends and put into a confined stall. I had never seen such thing. It was closed so tight on me I could not move at all. Something felt wrong. I could feel it. I had a sense that I was going to be hurt. A perception of fear, distress, anxiety. They came around me. One of them was wearing a glove on one hand and held a thin stick in the other. I had never seen them before either. They did not seem friendly. Like they had a duty to achieve and that was all they cared about. The one with the stick went behind me and pat my croup. The air thickened. Or did it? Maybe it was just my concern that made it hard to breath. All I wanted was to leave this claustrophobic place and go back outside with my friends. And then it happened for the first time. It was horrible. My emotions were completely opposite. My mind was desperate to flee from this atrocious situation. On the other hand, my body was tickling, not only in a bad way. All I could think was how awry it was that my body enjoyed what was going on. Their hand was moving inside of me. What were they doing? What did they think they were doing? Did anyone ask me for permission before doing it? Anger and fear were embracing each other in my heart. Confusion made the world go slow motion for what seemed to be hours. When they pulled back I was wet and terrified. Soon after they let me back outside. It was like their hand was still inside of me. I detested it.

The others looked like they knew. My short childhood had been a lie. All the questions I never wondered about stroke my mind for the next nine months. How did I end up in this farm? Where did my neighbour's baby go last year, short after it was born? Did I have a mummy? What was this strange thing growing in my belly? Where the hell did my friends go three times a day and why did I not come along? I wish I still didn't know the answers to all of these questions, because the truth is awful. Month after month, I had come to the conclusion that they had forgotten about me and that everything was like ever before. My friends continued to disappear three times a day and I was left alone on the meadow, wondering whether the confined stall, the unfriendly men, the stick, the hand were just a nightmare in the end. But something had change inside of me. At the time I thought to myself that I was ill, that a parasite was expending in my stomach. Instead of eating less, the parasite made me need more food. The people of the farm understood and gave me a lot more silage. They didn't generally go out of their way to be nice to us so I decided to enjoy the extra food while it lasted.

Though I didn't know what this parasite was, I grew immense love and affection for it. I felt good. But I didn't expect what was about to happen. One day my intestines tore apart. The parasite had moved before but never as much as that. It was ruthless. I still loved it more than my own life, which increased my puzzlement. All I wanted was for the parasite to be at peace again, but it was fighting against my body and my body was fighting back. Terrible sensation, I had control over nothing at all. I cried for help and someone came. I was put into another stall and given great care, which was a rare occurrence. Surprised and alert, I laid and everything happened quickly. Before I knew it, a tiny baby male was resting beside me. He was the most beautiful being ever. My love for this calf was limitless. Our short time together became the best days of my life. I could spend hours looking at his eyes, so curious and excited. The fact that I had created this cutie filled me with joy. Of course I thought that we would never be separated. We were so close to each other, who would in their right mind want to pull apart this pure relationship? But they did. Those heartless people took my baby away. They came like they weren't going to do anything revolting, like it was normal to them. They grabbed him and put him in a truck with no regard for me. At first I was so startled I did not process what had happened but as soon as he called for me, I ran after the truck and mooed as loud as I could. I was weeping out of misery but nobody bothered. They took him away and left me to drown in my tears.

My life would never be the same. I then knew where my friends were going three times a day and I went with them. Those octopus-like machines sucked my baby's milk out of me. Each time I went there, three times a day, I remembered my baby's shiny eyes and my heart sank a little. I still cannot figure out how this is reality. I was not the only one: short after this tragic episode, another young female calf arrived and a year after, they did to her what they had done to me. Each year, another of my friends was leaving us to God knows where. I was only a shadow of myself. Less of a being, I learnt to overcome the constant anxiety. I was programmed for whatever it was they did with my milk. Once, I saw a young male human drink it in a tiny container. He was smiling to a taller female human. The scene reminded me of the happy days with my calf. But then something atrocious occurred: the taller human drank my milk. Wait, was this what they did with it? Adults drinking my milk, meant for my calf? It's baby food, why would they need to drink it? And why did they have to take mine? Female humans don't produce this? I was beyond bewilderment. My life was miserable for humans to drink something that was mine and that they didn't need. My calf had been taken away from me for this sole purpose. How was this fair?

Two months after my baby was born, while my friends were going to the warehouse, I was put apart. They brought me to a place I recognised. There we were again... the confined stall. Everything was clear now. I would soon make less milk, so they were going to force me into having a new baby, take it away and steal my milk again. I was completely depressed and mooed the whole time. One of the men started shouting at me and beating my back. I'm sad, you idiot! If you're unhappy with my sadness, I propose not raping me. The tall female human was here. She did the most confusing thing ever: she was wearing the glove and holding the stick and she went behind me to put her hand inside of me. How could she not relate to my situation? She knew what it was to have a baby. No wonder she would have hated to have her baby taken away. Did she not understand that we were the same? My exhaustion reached a peak. This was all too much. They released me in the meadow and I laid on the grass. I did not want to live anymore, if this was going to be my life forever. But what could I do... I was powerless, my voice was never to be heard.