23 Jan 2024
My First Experience with Murder
I was eight years old and my siblings and I were sent to the countryside for the weekend. My mum and step-dad wanted to get away, so we went to stay with a family who lived outside of our town. This family had crops and pigs and also had family nearby who lived similar lives. We all got in a pickup truck, with the kids riding in the back, and drove to the wife’s mother’s house about 15 minutes away. When we got there that Saturday morning, there was a single large pig in a pen by himself, waiting for death.
I remember him well. He was large and covered in black and white spots. He grunted as he looked for things to eat in the pen. He turned and looked at me a few times as he explored the ground. I watched him with intent, not understanding that he was about to die. One of the family members came out, put a gun to the pig’s head, and pulled the trigger. The pig squealed in fear and began running around the pen. This being ran over to me at the fence and looked at me pleadingly. I looked into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, before the person with the gun stumbled over. The one who was murdering him yelled out profanities and put two more bullets into the pig, before the pig fell to the ground, dead.
Preparing the Body
The pen was then opened, a chain was tied to the pig’s back legs, and the pig’s body was dragged unceremoniously down a dirt road to a barn, where a hoist that pulled engines out of cars was waiting. The pig was pulled up into the air by his back legs and his head was sawn off (a grisly task). Once his head fell to the ground, the body was raised higher and then lowered into a 55 gallon oil drum, which was now filled with boiling water. Slowly the hair was removed from the body. Once this was done, several people set to work to cut up the body into the pieces they wanted - shooing flies away while they cut on the corpse.
Dinner That Night
As the sun started to set, all of the parts of this being that were desirable to the humans were taken into the house and the rest of the body was left for the flies. I have never seen so much cooking taking place and after some extended amount of time, the dining table was covered in cooked parts of the pig’s corpse. Everyone was asked what parts they wanted. I refused to eat. I watched each person twist and contort themselves to tear apart the body with their teeth. It was an understanding of humanity which is not easy for a child.
My Vegan Path
I tried not the eat flesh for some time, but when all three meals a day centre around meat, it is difficult for a child to refuse. I have always rememebered that pig and he is part of why I went vegetarian and then vegan. No one else remembers you, but I do!
I asked my son to create an artwork for my office - a single pig - and the images linked to on Instagram are what he made for me.
So many people I have known have so filled their bodies with this suffering and so filled their blood vessels with the fat of these beings, that their hearts have stopped, ending their lives much earlier than necessary. Just a few months ago, this happened to one of the children with whom I sat around the table that night when I was eight. Violence to others is violence to ourselves. There is a way of life that doesn’t involve violence - are you ready to live at peace?
Aroha nui,
Lee Sturgis
leesturgis.eth
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