Mkulima Moments: Mashujaa Day scandal saves mole project

For the last few days, I have neither seen nor spoken to my nemesis Mzee Jeremiah (MJ) after he blocked me from flushing out moles from my farm that neighbours his.

Mbugua, the mole catcher, had started to dig trenches into Mzee Jeremiah’s farm when he appeared and stopped us.

We resorted to digging a deeper trench on my farm to make the moles stay in his.

To prove his relevance, Mbugua, who now preferred to be called an engineer, drew what he described as a strategic map to curb the rodents.

“Mkulima, don’t worry about MJ, this is your farm,” he said as he used a piece of stick to draw the map on my arm.

“From my observation, and enviable knowledge in mole hunting, we will cut the links once and for all,” he said.

Under the supervision of Mbugua, Wekesa my farm manager started to dig the trench.

Wekesa and Mbugua spent the good part of Mushujaa Day digging the trench. Luckily, Mzee Jeremiah was not around.

Rumours had it that he was one of the shujaas who was recognised during the event in Machakos. Although I doubted.

But one thing about the old man has been consistent recently since he applied for a development loan from the sacco to install a drip irrigation system on his farm.

FARM BORDERLINE FEUDS

He has been making several trips to Nairobi, some that take two days, to shop for the irrigation kit, ignoring my recommended suppliers of the system.

Last Monday after arriving from one of those trips, he found us finalising the trench on the border of our farm.

“Mkulima, you are not different from the leaders who construct walls to keep their neighbours at bay,” he shouted as he folded the arms of his stripped trade mark blazer.

I did not answer back. Arms akimbo, he stood there speechless for several minutes. His attention was, however, caught when Wekesa started cutting roots that he associated with his indigenous forest.

“You see you are cutting down the lifeline of my trees,” he shouted.

“Hio mizizi ilikua inatoa maji kwetu,” Wekesa defended himself.

“Kijana, you own only 6ft from the ground, the rest is communal,” MJ said

“We are barely 4ft down,” Mbugua, the mole hunter interjected.

This was not the first time I was feuding with MJ about the borderline of our farms. He has always complained that the surveyor who subdivided the land did a shoddy job.

THE MACHAKOS 'SHUJAA'

Now agitated, Mzee Jeremiah said the trench endangers not only his life but also that of the other people and livestock included.

“NEMA must intervene in this,” Mzee Jeremiah threatened as he raised his voice. “There is need to carry out an environmental impact analysis of this tunnel, which you have not done.”

Mzee Jeremiah had just threatened to cover the trench when he heard his wife shouting about a lodging.

“Hii ni receipt ya lodging wapi?” she shouted, arms akimbo. Mzee Jeremiah was speechless.

“Ulisema umealikwa Machakos kama shujaa, receiptyasema ulikua Nakuru,” she continued. I saw the embarrassment on his face and Wekesa and Mbugua struggled to suppress their laughs.

“Ask, Mkulima, I was in Machakos,” MJ said feebly, looking at me for support.

“Yes, Mzee Jeremiah was honoured as a shujaa in Machakos,” I said.

His wife stood there looking at him menacingly, the receipt in her hand. It was certain she was not convinced.

She threw it and walked away. He followed.

Mzee Jeremiah picked it, looked at us and followed her face down, forgetting about the war he had picked started.