Shock as fake vet passes out after he is caught in the act

My efforts to try and better my farm after I failed to meet the demands set by Muchiri, the farmhand, made me consult Makanya, my old friend.

I went to see him for two reasons. First, I wanted to know how I could get rid of nagging messages and calls from Kiambati and second, how I can develop business ideas from the many farmers’ inquiries.

If you have forgotten about Kiambati, he is that cunning guy who tried to harvest honey while naked in Ukambani hoping that the bees will not see him. He would have gone places if he had sat his KCPE but he dropped out of school in Class Seven after being thoroughly caned by Mr Mutugu, the ruthless head teacher of Mashambani Primary School, which I attended with Kiambati.

Kiambati is tactical, innovative and a risk-taker. He can do anything to earn quick money and in Mashambani village, he was known to introduce new crops and animals.

He is also a smart campaigner of the new things he introduces and he is known to make tidy sums of money from the ventures. However, he always abandons the ventures in about a year and leaves his disciples high and dry.

Kiambati relocated to an undisclosed town after many farmers started to blame him for their failed businesses. I never heard of him until he started sending me messages on Whatsapp inquiring about livestock health.

BUYING UNDER-FED COWS

“Mkulima, bado niko,” his initial message read, and continued, “There is a cow with retained placenta, what should I do?” I answered him and since then, the questions have been ceaseless.

“There are three chickens which are sneezing, gasping for air, have nasal discharge and they produce greenish, watery diarrhoea. They are also showing some depression, muscular tremors, drooping wings, twisting of head and neck and circling. Egg production has dropped,” he wrote the following day.

Though those are obvious symptoms of New Castle Disease, I told him to consult the nearest vet.

From the messages, I figured out that Kiambati finally decided to start a livestock farm wherever he went. Although he dodged the question of where he lives, he only hinted that it was in the Rift Valley.

I told Makanya about Kiambati’s increasing questions, and he quickly dismissed him. “Just ignore that guy. He is a conman. He conned me Sh50,000,” Makanya started. He looked in the sky, scratched his head and added, “He was supposed to help me buy a poorly managed dairy cow for me to feed it better and return it to profitability,” Makanya added bitterly.

An astute entrepreneur, Makanya had gotten into the business of buying cows whose owners have failed to manage well. He then takes care of them until production increases.

“Let’s stop discussing that man. Mkulima take me to Ndunduri near Nakuru. I need to get a Friesian cow from a farmer who is unable to feed it and needs quick money.”

“What about all these inquiries of people interested in buying my cows?” I asked.

 “That is why you should accompany me. See this as a business opportunity,” Makanya started advising. “Increase your stock. Start buying those poorly managed but quality cows, then improve them by giving them high quality feeds rich in protein,” he said.

 Makanya extolled my farm as a brand and convinced me once a cow stepped in my shed, its value would triple.

“With some county governments buying wheelbarrows at Sh109,000, who knows? They might buy your cows at Sh820,000,” he said jokingly.

The next day I was at Ndunduri with him. The broker Makanya had spoken to asked him to meet him at Ndunduri Agrovet Supplies, where we were to see the vet who was treating the cow for sale.

I thought it was a brilliant idea. At the agrovet, there was a young man in an almost tattered green coat, and a lady who was finding it hard to hold a chicken with her polished nails.

DAGITARI SYMOH

“We want to see Dagitari Symo,” the broker told the young man. We waited for about 10 minutes. The doctor was taking too long and the young man kept going back and forth to the back room, coming back with some packets containing what looked like a mixture of soil and some mineral salts.

The owner of the cow up for sale, a lady, was leaning on the agrovet counter. She looked tired and bored but she encouraged us, “Please be patient. Dagitari Symo is quite busy but he will be here in a minute.”

“Dr Symo is finishing a skype call as he also consults online to international farmers,” the male attendant announced in an apparent attempt to impress us.

I started to engage the cow owner. “I just came here so that I can clear some debt I had with the Daktari,” she added.

Beside me was another client who was inquiring about some herbicide. The young girl seemed unable to differentiate between selective and non-selective herbicides. With my experience, I offered some free advice.

The vet took long to come and the woman decided to call. “Dagitari, Dagitari … the buyers of my cow are here and we want to go,” she shouted.

In a jiffy, the door flung open, and Dr Symoh appeared.

“Kiambati!” I shouted in shock. “Are you the vet?” Makanya asked in disbelief. “Ehhh …ehhh Mkulima,” he said while winking. “You know each other,” the lady asked.

“Yes, I know him but….” Before we could discuss more, Kiambati fainted.