A Fowl Play in Gozo: The Hunt for the Mischievous Ħamra Rooster

The Great Caper at the Crack of Dawn

It was a calm and serene morning in Gozo when Toni, a local shepherd known for his extra-large girth and a laugh that echoed across the valleys, discovered that his prized possession, a rooster named Ħamra with feathers as red as the Maltese sunsets, had vanished. Whispered rumors swirled through the streets like a sirocco wind, suggesting that Ħamra hadn’t just left the coop but was orchestrating a one-fowl revolt against the infamous Gozitan hunters.

“Ai siehbi, this is no ordinary bird,” Toni explained to his comrade, Dun Karm, the village’s most notorious pastizz aficionado, “Ħamra’s as clever as a fox and twice as loud. He’s the mastermind behind the great escape of the ‘Gozo Poultry Liberation Front’! Uwejja, they’ve been tapping morse code on their feeders for weeks!”

The Clucking Conundrum in Ċittadella

The streets of Ċittadella were usually quiet at this hour, but not today. Today, every inhabitant, from the bakers rolling out their morning ħobż biż-żejt to the fishermen prepping their luzzus for a day at sea, was abuzz with the news of Ħamra’s daring daylight departure.

“I saw Ħamra leading a squadron of hens across Triq il-Wied, I swear it on my nanna’s qubbajt!” proclaimed Manuel, the town gossip, as he sipped his morning kafè.

And so, with the breaking news, an island-wide search commenced to capture the notorious feathered fugitive before the hunters could claim him for their feathered trophy wall – a status symbol laughed at by every man, woman, child, and, apparently, even the chickens in Gozo.

Valletta’s Vexing Volunteers

In Valletta, a petition to save Ħamra was being hand-delivered to every doorstep, cafe, and band club by Rita, a retired school teacher with an uncanny resemblance to the Queen of England, were it not for her choice of neon tracksuits and oversized sunglasses.

“Those hunters won’t know what hit them! We’re going to save Ħamra and turn him into a symbol for peace and tranquillity, just as the Silent City should be,” she professed, thrusting leaflets at tourists wandering St. John’s Co-Cathedral.

The Plot Twists at Ta’ Pinu

Meanwhile, back on Gozo, word had it that Ħamra sought sanctuary by the revered Ta’ Pinu, where local beliefs held that no harm could come to man or beast. The hunters were in a real pickle; no one dared to brandish a shotgun within earshot of the sacred site, lest they invite a century’s worth of bad luck.

Just as the hunters reluctantly gathered to admit defeat, a twist as tasty as a fresh rabbit stew simmering on a Sunday afternoon unfolded. Carmenu, a local tour guide with a penchant for tall tales, overheard a group of tourists in Mdina speaking of a majestic red rooster leading a flock of birds through the medieval streets.

“He was like Moses parting the sea, but with pigeons!” exclaimed the awestruck visitor, snapping pictures on her camera.

Little did the hunters know; they were embroiled in a wild fowl chase across the Maltese archipelago.

Moral of the Story?

No hunter could ever outsmart Ħamra, but in a cunning twist of fate, their quest had unintentionally united the islands in a humorous uproar of solidarity for the crafty cockerel. As the sun settled into the Mediterranean, locals settled into their evening routine, recounting the day’s events over plates of bragioli and lampuki pie, musing at the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was Ħamra who was hunting them this entire time.

And so, as the tale of the rooster’s great escapade spread from the streets of Sliema to the beaches of Mellieha, the ‘Times of Mela’ had but one message for its beloved readers: Sometimes life gives you a mystery wrapped in feathers, an adventure best served with a side of laughter… and perhaps a pastizz or two. Mela.