Story goes that in a small town in south Somalia (no GPS coordinates provided), paranoid American soldiers (don't ask what they were doing in the middle of a small Somali town, I can understand the paranoia, tho), came across a goat in a bra, similar to the one bellow.
They have heard stories of Al-messed-up-Shabaab planting bombs in goat bras and sending them to compounds to blow up some shit. These Americans weren’t gonna take a chance, so they blew up the poor goat’s brains before it exploded. However, upon a closer examination of the fancy looking pink bra, they realized it was a case of a mistaken identity. This was not an Al-Shabaab employed goat and was probably just heading to the mosque for Friday prayers, poor thing.
According to Somali customary law, you kill a living thing you have to pay a price. Unless you are a dog, in which case, no clan member can claim a price on your worthless little life. An elderly lady claimed the goat was hers and that the Americans should pay for having killed an innocent goat. The price normally depends on animal’s age, size and if it is a female, you pay more coz u didn’t just take a goat but also some fresh milk for breakfast. The only time in Somalia where females are worth more than males, welcome to goatcountry.
There are goats everywhere and most roam the streets freely but hit a random one and the owner magically appears with a story of how talented that goat was and why you should pay for a maximum penalty: it spoke 3 languages, had a PhD in conflict resolution, produced medicinal milk that cured aids, shat gold and ran 3 London marathons for charity. That was not an ordinary goat, goddamn it.