My Archenemy

It all started back in July 2014. My garden was planted. There were tiny radishes, beets, onions, carrots, turnips, and beans. I'd lovingly tended to the baby plants, ensuring their fragile roots were protected from the sun by a thick layer of mulch, gingerly plucking any weeds that could possibly compete with the vegetables, and diligently watering each day since the root systems of the new plants was still shallow. I'd even found a reliable boy to continue watering while I took a holiday.

I've had my garden since community entry last year. There's a sturdy fence that has withstood goats constantly scratching their flanks on it and I periodically knock termite tunnels from the poles. It has served me well these past 12 months.

Until...

I returned from my vacation. I arrived home after dark and contained my excitement over what my garden looked like since it was to late to check. How large would all of those tiny plants now be?! I might be able to start harvesting greens! Having a garden is essential for me as it's difficult to find veg in my village. There are about 2 weeks of every month where I eat only rice, soya pieces, and tomatoes. This is because u have to purchase various vegetables and leafy greens during my bimonthly trips to town. Attempting to keep vegetables for 2 weeks without refrigeration typically leads to spoiled vegetables. So, I eat with i purchase within a week then wait another before heading back to town.

Okay, enough background, let's return to the story. The night I returned to Nalube Village, I didn't check my garden. Even the next morning I waited until my chores were finished and I was ready to water. What I found was a garden in disarray. The compost pile had been scattered to the four corners of the garden. The raised beds that weren't in production, the ones I was preparing for planting, had all of the topsoil scattered as well and were now level beds. There were potholes. There were feathers. There were scratch marks in the dirt. And the plants I'd tended with such care and vigilance were demolished. All of the beets, carrots, and onions were gone, their remains unable to be found. The leaves of the other plants were gone, picked clean except for a few spindly stems. There were 2 bean plants remaining. That was all.

In my absence the chickens had stormed the fence, determined to breach it's sturdy walls to discover what treasures were inside. I imagined roosters and hens ramming the fence and repeatedly attempting to flap high enough to hop over. And they had  succeeded. I pinpointed the most determined chickens, two hens that hadn't forgotten what spoils and riches they had reaped from inside the fence. I'd chased them several times away or out of the garden.

A few days after my return and after my disappointment had abated, my brother and I set about making the fence chicken-proof. We spent a few hours cutting and collecting branches covered in thorns and carefully adding them to the top of the fence. That evening a hen attempted to gain entrance. She flapped to the top only to realize what changes had occurred. I watched happily as she sqwaked and flapped and failed to enter. The thorns had worked! I could begin to repair and replant my garden. There was even time to replant some of the cold crops. I even put another bed into production.

Then, I discovered an egg inside the garden and a cream-colored hen clucking and pacing around the outside of the fence. For three days we battled. Each day I would find another egg and set about stacking the thorns higher and chasing her with a stick every
chance I could. Luckily she was more interested in laying eggs than digging for grubs. I found a small entrance she'd made at the base of the fence, a tent-shaped hole in the grass. I closed it with sticks dug into the ground. On the third morning I caught her. Tucking her under my arm, I carried her to my host mom who proceeded to pluck her flight feathers. Finally, the hen settled for laying eggs outside the fence instead of inside the garden. I thought I had won.

A few weeks later, after more seeds had germinated,
I fell ill. I asked my host mom to water the plants while I went to the Peace Corps office to recover. And when I returned, I found the garden once again destroyed. A sneaky hen had entered on the very day of my return and happily scratched, pecked, and preened in all of the garden beds. I'd assumed she'd gotten in through an improperly closed gate as it's tricky to close all of the gaps and takes some maneuvering.

This brings us to August 18th, 2014. I'd been home over a week and not a single chicken had entered or
even tried to enter the garden. I'd replanted yet again and had small cabbages, kale, and beans. I went to visit my family at my normal time in the afternoon to talk about rabbits. That very morning I had added ash to the beds for termite control and learned about a local plant to use for making natural pesticides. Everything had been fine. In fact, the only chicken I had seen all day was a speckled hen with a toupee and three chicks. I walked with my mom home talking about trees and termites. She continued to the borehole and I continued home. I heard some flapping, a few clucks, and saw a cream-colored hen perched atop the fence. While I'd been visiting my family she'd had a grand old time destroying my garden. Again. My garden, gone again.

It's time to fortify the fence. The plan: gather more thorns and add two additional feet to the height. If this doesn't work, I'll cede my garden to the cream-colored hen, my archenemy.

Update: while collecting thorns the hen struck again. This time though, she was still in the garden when my host brother and I returned. We caught her. She is one of two cream-colored hens and her feathers were still intact. We took her to my host mom who plucked her feathers none to gently. We'll still fortify the fence and hope the trouble is over.