Here's a few excerpts
"After the final collapse of the
Somali state, the confiscation of my
property, the destruction of my
possessions and my repeated
relocation due to the to-ing and fro-
ing of multiple overlapping civil
wars, I eventually found myself in
Hargeisa, owning only a goat."
"What was she called?"
"Who?"
"The Goat."
"She was a goat. She didn't have
a name."
The next day, I ate the
mutilated fourth leg of my ultimate
goat, as I refined the plan. I wiped
my mouth as I finished, and drew a
deep breath. It was now, or never. I
had neither friend, nor relative, nor
roof, nor occupation: I had, in all
this world, one solitary three-legged
goat.
"I waited until the daily UN
food plane was committed to its final
approach: as its wheels touched
down at the far end of the dusty
runway and I saw the puffs of dust, I
drove my goat out of the long grass
and into the middle of the runway
and, leaving her standing
bewildered and blindfold where the
tyre-tracks were thickest, I ran back
into the long grass. The plane was
laden, the suspension heavy, the
engines slung low: the propeller took
her head off and the headless
corpse went under the wheels."
The success of my
scheme was noted by others: by the
third day, rivals were driving goats
onto the runway ahead of me
Word had spread, and men drove
goats in any condition to Hargeisa
from all over Somaliland, and even
the other statelets of the
fragmented Somalia: from Puntland,
from Middle Shabelle and Lower
Jubba in the chaotic southern rump
state, even from Ethiopia. The
market was soon flooded with goats,
many of them sick or lame. However
this did not matter, for the demand
for goats had become infinite.
http://www.juliangough.com/the-great-ha ... at-bubble/
