When corruption takes root in small villages regular folks pay a heavy price

The year had started without any spectacular incident in the village of Kaluodo, somewhere in the middle of Mangalapa. That year many farmers had gone without getting a cent from their sugarcane plantations because the two factories they used to deliver cane to had been shut down. It was claimed by the managers of Chamkuon Sugar Factory that a turbine had broken down in the factory and the spare part could only be imported. The process of procurement was, however, very long and the parent ministry was still waiting for the Treasury to clear the importation process. Mangalapa Sugar Mill was under receivership and the new receiver manager was not prepared to get things going until his predecessor was cleared of having defrauded the company of some billions of shillings. That predecessor was now a major stakeholder in a county government.

Stanley Otieno decided that there was no future for his family in the sugar industry. He would burn his cane and plow the 10 acres with the view of planting maize. But what about the herds of cattle roaming around; how would he protect his maize from these grazers? Planting maize did not appear to be a practical option. But then, with three children in primary school, one in high school and another at home looking for work, how was he going to provide for his family? That Sunday, for the first time in ten years, Stanley decided to go to church; maybe the Lord would reveal something to him. He sat timidly on the back pew, mingling rather shyly with three little children who were there only to wait for their parents attending the adult service. Sunday school usually ended before the adults arrived. But that day there had been a visiting school teacher who insisted on teaching them a nursery rhyme after the service was over. They decided to wait for their parents just to ensure mother would buy bananas for them at the market on the way back home.