In brief:
A Sudanese gentleman was forced to pay a dowry of fifty bucks for a goat that he was caught in the act of ..... congressing.
And also forced to marry the beast.
Now I know that this is not news of earthshaking importance -- even publishing the news-article could be considered in questionable taste, and far below the usual journalistic standards of the BBC.
But I can well understand why they published it.
It isn't often that you get such a chance.
So you must leap on it when you do.
As, indeed, the Sudanese gentleman in question did.
His name, by the way, is Mr. Tombe. Do any of my readers have the same last name? No?
Then I won't be inadvertently offending anyone with this, so let us proceed.
The goat's owner, Mr Alifi, said he surprised the man with his goat and took him to a council of elders.
They ordered the man, Mr Tombe, to pay a dowry of 15,000 Sudanese dinars ($50) to Mr Alifi.
"We have given him the goat, and as far as we know they are still together," Mr Alifi said.
Mr Alifi, Hai Malakal in Upper Nile State, told the Juba Post newspaper that he heard a loud noise around midnight on 13 February and immediately rushed outside to find Mr Tombe with his goat.
No, I'm not going to make a silly joke about 'getting his goat' - you can think of that one entirely without my help in any case.
I will however say that a good goat is hard to find.
A friend (L.E.), to whom I mentioned this incident, said "I sincerely hope that the dowry for the goat was significantly less than that which is paid for a woman."
Maybe not. Maybe they actually prefer goats.
Must make their high-school proms mighty interesting.
Save on the booze, but the decorations get eaten, and the clean-up afterwards is horrific.
Or, then again, maybe not. Maybe he's stuck with the gir..., I mean goat.
Even if he wasn't expecting any conversation or light chit-chat from his spouse, he is surely disappointed by now.
"Be-eeeh, bee-eeh, beee-eh" hardly qualifies as love-talk. Or as sweet nothings cooed into his ear.
Knowing what I do of goats, Mrs. Tombe would be more likely to nibble his ear. Or take a healthy bite, in hopes that it was a tin-can.
So Mr. Tombe might be regretting his impetuousity at this point, no matter how hard up he is, in the arid depths of the Sudan, all lonesome, surrounded by miles and miles of thornbushes, cactii, and.... other goats! [And just think of the temptation!]
But, as Maya says, "there's an easy way out. Instead of saying "Talak, Talak, Talak" which would effectively give him a divorce, all he needs to do is say "Halal, Halal, Halal", and he can have a lovely dinner".
He can even invite his friends to the feast; "She cooks well, my wife."
They will congratulate him; "Mabrouk!"
And he will say 'Bismillah!', with an expansive gesture, and invite them to dig in.
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Oh, why am I outraged, you ask?
Because at fifty dollars, he paid less than a buck per kilo of meat! Do you know how cheap that is?!?! A bargain!
And I do so love a nice bit of goat.
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