It's blood, dust, and damn hard work. Sheep. And the Maasai. They raise them for one simple reason: the inhospitable, rocky soil where their family has put down roots would not support anything else. It is a legacy that is not passed on with a smile, but with gritted teeth and hardened calluses. When it's time to sell, all sentiment must be put aside. It's a raw struggle. Heavy trucks tear through the savannah, and the dry air is filled with the acrid smoke of diesel engines, which overpowers even the heavy smell of lanolin and animal fear. Loading is pure, animalistic chaos.
