The thugs of Ruai only need daily bread, huge stocks can only turn into State porridge
There was a heist somewhere in Ruai, to the east of the city, where thugs accosted a bread delivery truck and took off with plentiful of loaves.
They were not interested in the driver’s money, perhaps because he didn’t have much on him, or perhaps they knew the cash is wired directly into bank accounts. They also knew a loaf in hand is worth twice cash in the bank.
Even by our suspect measure, this was a new high; organised criminal enterprises aren’t known for having a sweet tooth, or being drawn to the ordinary stuff of bread and butter. I mean, how would they even foment the idea of stealing bread?
Could it have been triggered by a reconnaissance to the bakery, at which the thugs were drawn to the wafting aromas and they decide it’s best to steal loaves, instead of cash?
Perhaps the smells were so arresting, one thug decided he could live on such bread for the rest of his life, to which his accomplices retorted: why are you speaking as though that’s wishful thinking? We can get a truck of loaves, like yesterday!
So, they staged the heist, without a proper view of the logistics of: a) keeping the bread fresh, b) having something to go with the bread, c) celebrating their loot without giving themselves away.
But all is not lost. Now that the crooks are likely to be cooling porridge as guests of the state, the memories of their short-lived bread bounty will sustain them, perhaps with glimpses of revelatory insight: no matter how much one has, they only need their daily bread.
And if the crooks feel shy declaring to fellow inmates what drove them to the prison, they could say the loaves were meant for an entire neighbourhood.
After all, who can feast on crates of dry bread, no matter how hungry?