Dairy board kills my pregnant dream of running a milk ATM

What you need to know:

  • My recent forays in conferences and foreign trips have landed me harsh criticisms from Mzee Jeremiah. To fight back, I have suspended all foreign trips if they come my way.
  • Wandia explained that customers will get milk directly from us at a fair price of about Sh60 a litre rather than the Sh100 per litre they normally buy from shops.

A few days ago, Wandia the beautiful one called me suggesting she had a very promising agribusiness idea.

As usual, Wandia’s calls leave me a happier man because of their progressive nature. I have also noted that most of her positive calls come when I am handling a crisis and so I always feel better after talking to her.

When she called, I was in deep thought over rumours doing rounds that I am not doing anything for Mashambani Cooperative Society. 

My recent forays in conferences and foreign trips have landed me harsh criticisms from Mzee Jeremiah. To fight back, I have suspended all foreign trips if they come my way.

 “My dear, I got an idea that can almost double the milk income for farmers. Let’s hook up,” said Wandia.

My heart skipped, not just because of the new idea but her use of the word “dear”.

 “When can we meet, dear?” I responded very fast to maintain the momentum of the word ‘dear’. “Kesho dear is good for me,” she responded.

“Dear, I will be there for you always,” I said in a sweet voice.

I was at the city coffee shop at 10am ‘sharp’ as we had agreed. I rarely miss her ‘summons’ despite the hustle I have to go through to catch the Maendeleo Bus to the city.

Wandia, in her soft feminine voice, which can sell ice in Iceland, went straight to business as soon as her black coffee and my tea masala was served.

“Mkulima, I think our farmers are not being paid fair prices for milk,” she started.

“But there will be no time farmers will be satisfied with the price of their commodity,” I quickly interrupted her. “Listen first, dear,” she said with her usual authority and confidence.

“We can sell the milk directly to customers through vending machines. They are like ATMs. They have compartments to boil the milk and pasteurise it,” she said allowing me to chew her words.

“I saw them in a supermarket,” she continued. By this time, my head was reeling with the mental picture of the high-tech business model.

Wandia explained that customers will get milk directly from us at a fair price of about Sh60 a litre rather than the Sh100 per litre they normally buy from shops.

“We will then be able to pay farmers at a fairer price of about Sh40 to Sh45 per litre and not the Sh25 they offer them.”

 At this point, I interjected. “Is this not hawking which has been banned?”

“No,” she shot back adding, “The milk ATM has safety requirements approved by the Dairy Board.”

I sensed I was losing the battle by being skeptical about the machine. As usual, however, I gladly welcomed the idea.

“So how do we get the machine?” I asked

“No worries, Mkulima, your able vice-chairman has somebody who would lease the machine to us at a good location,” she explained with a smile.

“Why is he not doing the business himself if that place has good business?” I asked her

“The owner of the machine started selling ‘Hakuna Maziwa” due to the inconsistency in supply, But we have an advantage since we can supply the milk,” she explained.

Wandia was able to convince me of the new opportunity in the milk dispensing machine.

After a warm hug from her, and this is a moment I really wait for patiently during our meetings, she gave me the contacts of the leaser. “You only need to deliver to him some milk to sample the machine and the business for two days.”

 Back at Mashambani, I organised to deliver 200 litres of milk. I contacted the driver of Maendeleo bus to reserve some space for the milk, which we parked in the 20 litre- yellow containers.

This meant I had to carry 20 buckets of milk. I arrived at Machakos Country Bus station at 8am. My former schoolmate, Cyrus, had made arrangement with a mkokoteni guy.

We were busy loading the milk onto the mkokoteni when I felt a tight grip on the collar of my shirt.

“Why are you hawking milk? Where is your licence? You are under arrest?” shouted the man.

“I am not a hawker,” I tried to mutter as I was I pushed to a waiting vehicle.

Cyrus just vanished into the crowd but the mkokoteni guy was held before he could run away.

“Kijana you are even ferrying milk in plastic containers,” said one of my tormentors.

“I am the milk chairman,” I said quickly so that the key word “milk’ could be heard.

“You are under arrest for hawking milk, storing in plastic containers and operating without the licence from the dairy board,” the guy, who I later came to learn works with Dairy Board, explained to me.

I tried to explain to them that I am the chairman of the Mashambani Cooperative that deals with milk but they could here none of it.

All I could hear was his citation of the Food, Drugs and Chemical Substances Act, Cap 254 and the Standard Act, Cap 496.

I explained I was just taking some milk samples to test a vending machine that we were leasing and I had no intention of hawking.

After a lot of haggling, he released me after I paid a hefty fine of Sh2,000. I informed Wandia of the misfortune and abandoned my mission, returning to Mashambani.

She has been calling me endlessly trying to console me, and I have enjoyed every minute I talked to her. Perhaps this is the way God wanted things to happen for us to get closer. Who knows what will happen next? I can here wedding bells from a distance.