Every farmer knows that not all bulls are the same. Some look strong but are lazy. Some have fine coats but weak legs. Some make loud noise but have no discipline. And then there are those that are quiet, steady, and sure—the kind that works without boasting. If you want good calves, you must learn to tell the difference.
Choosing a bull is not a matter of luck; it is a matter of watching, thinking, and asking the right questions. The wise farmer does not look only at size or color. He looks at the record—what has this bull produced before? What kind of calves has it left in other farms? Has it ever hurt a cow? Has it ever broken a fence? Those questions save him from regret. But in politics, people often choose without looking. They listen to songs, look at posters, taste the beer, and then say, “This one looks fine.” Yet, no one eats posters or drinks promises. The true strength of a bull is not in its parade but in its performance.
When you go to the market to find a new bull, the sellers will praise their animals. Each will shout louder than the next: “This one is strong!” “This one is young!” “This one never fails!” But the wise farmer does not buy with his ears; he buys with his eyes and his memory. He does not rush. He walks around the bull, observes how it stands, how it breathes, how it moves. He looks at the eyes—for the eyes tell the truth. A proud bull lifts its head high but looks straight. A deceitful one avoids your gaze.
We must learn to choose leaders the same way.
When they come shouting promises, do not be moved by their words. Look at how they walk among the people. Look at how they treat those who have nothing to give them. Listen to what they did yesterday, not what they promise today. A man’s true heart is revealed by his actions, not his speeches.
A good bull, like a good leader, shows signs long before it is chosen. It is consistent. It is disciplined. It respects others in the field. It does not need to be forced to work—it does so willingly. When you find such a bull, guard it well. When you find such a leader, support him honestly. Because good bulls are rare, and good leaders even rarer.
Let me tell you a story from our village. There was once a farmer named Nyaga who was known for his strong herd. He never rushed when choosing bulls. Before buying, he would ask around quietly. He would visit other farms, watch the calves that bull had produced, and listen to what people said about it. Sometimes, he would take months before making a choice.
One day a young man mocked him, saying, “Old man, you waste too much time. You could have already had calves by now.” Nyaga smiled and said, “It is better to wait for a strong calf than to hurry for a weak one.” Sure enough, when the young man’s calves came out thin and weak, Nyaga’s herd was thriving. Patience and wisdom always pay better than excitement.
That is the same advice I give to voters. Do not choose in excitement. Do not be moved by dancing crowds or free gifts. Look at the record. Ask questions. “What did this person do when they had power before?” “How did they treat the poor?” “Do they listen, or do they only speak?” If the answers do not satisfy you, do not vote for them—no matter how charming they seem.
A good bull is known by its discipline. It does not break fences or fight other animals unnecessarily. A good leader, too, must show discipline. He must respect the law. He must work for peace, not division. He must unite the village, not scatter it. If a man cannot control his own tongue, how will he control the affairs of a nation? If he cannot keep his own home in order, how will he organize the house of the people?
The wise farmer also looks at the bull’s companions. A strong bull keeps good company—healthy cows, obedient calves. A corrupt bull surrounds itself with flies and filth. Likewise, a wise voter looks at the people around a leader. Who are his friends, his advisers, his team? Are they honest or greedy? Because no bull works alone. The herd it keeps tells you what kind of bull it is.
In our market, some bulls look clean only because they were washed that morning. But a farmer who has seen many seasons knows that water does not change the skin; it only hides the dirt for a while. In the same way, many leaders look good only during elections. They wear clean suits, smile for cameras, and talk about change. But once they win, the dirt shows again. That is why we must look beyond appearance.
When choosing a better bull, also remember your cow. Know what it needs. A small cow cannot handle a huge bull. A young cow needs gentleness, not force.
In leadership, too, a country must choose according to its needs. If the people are tired and divided, they need a calm leader. If the land is hungry, they need one who knows how to work, not just talk. If the youth are lost, they need someone who can guide, not someone who uses them as shields.
Good bulls build the herd; bad ones break it. Good leaders build the nation; bad ones break it. So how do we truly choose better? We begin by remembering that the cow belongs to us. The power lies with us. The bull is only a worker, a servant of the farmer. We are not choosing a king; we are choosing a worker. We are not giving away power; we are lending it. If the bull does well, we keep it. If it fails, we replace it. That mindset alone can change everything.
Before you choose, listen to the quiet voices—the old grandmother who has seen many seasons, the honest youth who asks tough questions, the teacher who dreams of better schools, the farmer who wakes before dawn. Their wisdom will guide you better than the loud politicians. The people who work the land know the truth of life—they know what good bulls look like.
When the day of choosing comes, think of your cow standing there, waiting. Think of your children, the future calves who will drink its milk. Then ask yourself, “Who deserves to mount my cow?” If the answer comes with doubt, step back. Do not vote with emotion; vote with wisdom. A foolish choice takes seconds, but its pain can last for years.
Choosing a better bull requires courage, patience, and unity. Sometimes the good bull is not the most popular. It may not have big songs or fancy posters. It may stand quietly, working faithfully in the background. But strength does not always shout. The quiet bull that works is better than the noisy one that does nothing.
So, my brothers and sisters, when the bulls return to the market—dressed in promises and perfume—remember this: Do not look at the shine of the coat. Look at the strength of the legs. Do not listen to the noise. Watch the work. Do not follow the crowd. Follow the truth. Because when the songs end and the dust settles, it is you who will feed the cow. It is you who will drink the milk. It is you who will live with the calf.
Choose wisely, for every choice leaves a mark. The calf will grow up carrying your decision on its back. And when the day comes that your children ask, “Why is our herd weak or strong?” you will have only one answer: “Because of the bull we chose.” A better bull does not appear by luck—it is chosen by wisdom. The power to find it is already in our hands. All we need is the courage to use it.
Choosing a bull is not a matter of luck; it is a matter of watching, thinking, and asking the right questions. The wise farmer does not look only at size or color. He looks at the record—what has this bull produced before? What kind of calves has it left in other farms? Has it ever hurt a cow? Has it ever broken a fence? Those questions save him from regret. But in politics, people often choose without looking. They listen to songs, look at posters, taste the beer, and then say, “This one looks fine.” Yet, no one eats posters or drinks promises. The true strength of a bull is not in its parade but in its performance.
When you go to the market to find a new bull, the sellers will praise their animals. Each will shout louder than the next: “This one is strong!” “This one is young!” “This one never fails!” But the wise farmer does not buy with his ears; he buys with his eyes and his memory. He does not rush. He walks around the bull, observes how it stands, how it breathes, how it moves. He looks at the eyes—for the eyes tell the truth. A proud bull lifts its head high but looks straight. A deceitful one avoids your gaze.
We must learn to choose leaders the same way.
When they come shouting promises, do not be moved by their words. Look at how they walk among the people. Look at how they treat those who have nothing to give them. Listen to what they did yesterday, not what they promise today. A man’s true heart is revealed by his actions, not his speeches.
A good bull, like a good leader, shows signs long before it is chosen. It is consistent. It is disciplined. It respects others in the field. It does not need to be forced to work—it does so willingly. When you find such a bull, guard it well. When you find such a leader, support him honestly. Because good bulls are rare, and good leaders even rarer.
Let me tell you a story from our village. There was once a farmer named Nyaga who was known for his strong herd. He never rushed when choosing bulls. Before buying, he would ask around quietly. He would visit other farms, watch the calves that bull had produced, and listen to what people said about it. Sometimes, he would take months before making a choice.
One day a young man mocked him, saying, “Old man, you waste too much time. You could have already had calves by now.” Nyaga smiled and said, “It is better to wait for a strong calf than to hurry for a weak one.” Sure enough, when the young man’s calves came out thin and weak, Nyaga’s herd was thriving. Patience and wisdom always pay better than excitement.
That is the same advice I give to voters. Do not choose in excitement. Do not be moved by dancing crowds or free gifts. Look at the record. Ask questions. “What did this person do when they had power before?” “How did they treat the poor?” “Do they listen, or do they only speak?” If the answers do not satisfy you, do not vote for them—no matter how charming they seem.
A good bull is known by its discipline. It does not break fences or fight other animals unnecessarily. A good leader, too, must show discipline. He must respect the law. He must work for peace, not division. He must unite the village, not scatter it. If a man cannot control his own tongue, how will he control the affairs of a nation? If he cannot keep his own home in order, how will he organize the house of the people?
The wise farmer also looks at the bull’s companions. A strong bull keeps good company—healthy cows, obedient calves. A corrupt bull surrounds itself with flies and filth. Likewise, a wise voter looks at the people around a leader. Who are his friends, his advisers, his team? Are they honest or greedy? Because no bull works alone. The herd it keeps tells you what kind of bull it is.
In our market, some bulls look clean only because they were washed that morning. But a farmer who has seen many seasons knows that water does not change the skin; it only hides the dirt for a while. In the same way, many leaders look good only during elections. They wear clean suits, smile for cameras, and talk about change. But once they win, the dirt shows again. That is why we must look beyond appearance.
When choosing a better bull, also remember your cow. Know what it needs. A small cow cannot handle a huge bull. A young cow needs gentleness, not force.
In leadership, too, a country must choose according to its needs. If the people are tired and divided, they need a calm leader. If the land is hungry, they need one who knows how to work, not just talk. If the youth are lost, they need someone who can guide, not someone who uses them as shields.
Good bulls build the herd; bad ones break it. Good leaders build the nation; bad ones break it. So how do we truly choose better? We begin by remembering that the cow belongs to us. The power lies with us. The bull is only a worker, a servant of the farmer. We are not choosing a king; we are choosing a worker. We are not giving away power; we are lending it. If the bull does well, we keep it. If it fails, we replace it. That mindset alone can change everything.
Before you choose, listen to the quiet voices—the old grandmother who has seen many seasons, the honest youth who asks tough questions, the teacher who dreams of better schools, the farmer who wakes before dawn. Their wisdom will guide you better than the loud politicians. The people who work the land know the truth of life—they know what good bulls look like.
When the day of choosing comes, think of your cow standing there, waiting. Think of your children, the future calves who will drink its milk. Then ask yourself, “Who deserves to mount my cow?” If the answer comes with doubt, step back. Do not vote with emotion; vote with wisdom. A foolish choice takes seconds, but its pain can last for years.
Choosing a better bull requires courage, patience, and unity. Sometimes the good bull is not the most popular. It may not have big songs or fancy posters. It may stand quietly, working faithfully in the background. But strength does not always shout. The quiet bull that works is better than the noisy one that does nothing.
So, my brothers and sisters, when the bulls return to the market—dressed in promises and perfume—remember this: Do not look at the shine of the coat. Look at the strength of the legs. Do not listen to the noise. Watch the work. Do not follow the crowd. Follow the truth. Because when the songs end and the dust settles, it is you who will feed the cow. It is you who will drink the milk. It is you who will live with the calf.
Choose wisely, for every choice leaves a mark. The calf will grow up carrying your decision on its back. And when the day comes that your children ask, “Why is our herd weak or strong?” you will have only one answer: “Because of the bull we chose.” A better bull does not appear by luck—it is chosen by wisdom. The power to find it is already in our hands. All we need is the courage to use it.
