The Boer and the hunger of old Joe

The administrations of the city of Paulo Afonso in the Sertão region of Bahia need to be studied, since they have already made some decisions that are, at the very least, extravagant.

There have been projects here to breed Yellow-bellied Caimans and ostriches, all "sold" by the city hall's marketing department as the "solution" for rural breeders. But the closest thing to success was the Boer goat breeding project.

The mayor at the time ordered the purchase of some breeding females to be distributed to a select group of breeders. Part of the press was constantly talking about the benefits of crossing Boer goats with native goats from the Sertão region. They said that stronger goats with more meat would be born. I wondered if this wouldn't lead to the extinction of our "hard-footed" goat, which has fed the population for hundreds of years.

But like any unusual project, the result is usually a failure. And those tested in Paulo Afonso were no different; everything went wrong. Nothing prospered.

The alligator breeding stock never even reached the city. The ostriches served as food for the families who received the breeding pairs. It was a total disaster, and there are no reports of any "breeder" having succeeded.

As for the Boes, their stories are more interesting.

Farmers had difficulty keeping the animals on their land. This is because, unlike the native goat, the mixed-breed goats need to be fed high-quality feed. For those who raise animals that roam freely in the caatinga, eating everything, having a luxento (a type of goat) wouldn't work out.

With the project's failure, the city government collected some breeding stock, and among them was the Boer cow chosen to be the one that would breed with the largest number of cows possible. It was the largest physically. They say that whoever saw it was impressed by its size.

One Monday, when the workers at the Exhibition Park arrived for work and went to feed the animals, they noticed the absence of the famous Boer dog. It was a huge commotion. Everyone was afraid to inform the secretary about the disappearance, but they had to, and they all went to the police station to report the situation.

The police chief, informed of the situation, sent a team to investigate the Boer robbery. It wasn't long before, on the same day, a patrol car arrived with Seu Zé, a resident of a neighborhood next to the exhibition park. A simple man, he got out of the car with a face ashamed of the situation.

The police officers didn't even bother to put handcuffs on the man.

Once inside the room with the police chief, who looked at the person and didn't see him as a "thief," he asked: "Zé, why did you rob that Boer?"

With his head bowed, the man replied: Doctor, I didn't steal, I took the first goat I found.

Do you know you've committed a crime?

He replied: No, officer. If you and your children were crying from hunger in your house, what would you do to stop their crying and their hunger?

The officer stood there, speechless, in response to the question. Several seconds of silence passed, which seemed endless.

"But you took the main breeder, the most expensive one, the most beautiful one. Why didn't you take another one then?" the officer inquired.

Doctor, I didn't know that, and hunger doesn't discriminate based on value; it simply exists, and it was my children who were crying.

What did you do with all the meat?

"I took what I needed to feed my family, and the rest I distributed to neighbors who are also going hungry." Without another word, the police chief made his decision in front of the man.

- Mr. Zé, I'm going to ask you a favor. Please don't do something like that again. I'll talk to the mayor, but if it happens again, I'll have to arrest you.

- You have my word that I will never do that again.

And that's how, or more or less how, the story circulated through the city, and even today people tell the story of the Boer who fed Seu Zé and his family.