Mkulima Moments: Disease lands me in trouble with the chief

At Mkulima Mixed Farm, I don’t take security for granted. Therefore, besides fencing my farm with a chain link, I keep two fierce German shepherd dogs.

On the metal gate is the warning ‘Mbwa Kali’ to caution all miscreants. My decision to enhance security was prompted by Mzee Jeremiah, my unfriendly neighbour, whose free-range chicken always strayed into my farm destroying vegetables and removing the mulch on the crops.

The only thing I haven’t been able to control with the fence are moles, which as you may have already guessed, cross from Mzee Jeremiah’s farm to mine.

The other day Mzee Jeremiah stormed my farm in his typical tyrannical character demanding compensation. He alleged that his tomatoes had dried after Wekesa, my farmhand, sprayed chemicals that drifted to the crops.

Just to trace the source of his contention, I take you back to early this year when I engaged experts to test soil on my farm.

Being a generous farmer, I invited all Mashambani people to learn a thing or two about importance of soil testing. Mzee Jeremiah was one of them.

You will recall as the demonstration was going on, the expert offered to test the soil on Mzee Jeremiah’s farm free. However, he dismissed the exercise as witchcraft.

Muchiri sold to him the idea of tomato growing after moving from my farm. While still with me, I had planned to plant tomatoes on the block of land neighbouring Mzee Jeremiah’s but I changed my mind after getting soil test results.

The results recommended that I should not plant any Solanaceae family crop family on that land since the soil had bacterial wilt.

So just when their tomato crop was almost fruiting, the wilting started despite them watering every morning and evening.

POISONED HIS TOMATOES AND SET DOGS ON HIM

Mzee Jeremiah was breathing fire when he stormed my farm.

“You are such a cruel young farmer. How can you poison my tomatoes?” he shouted as he kicked my gate open.

“Is it because your cow died from your recklessness that you want other farmers to suffer also?” Mzee Jeremiah added as he now violently shouted, alarming the dogs.

And just as he set foot into my compound shouting, the two dogs went for him.

He turned back and attempted to flee but age could not allow him. One of the dogs floored him and I was just in time to ask them to leave him.

“You poison my tomato crop and then you send your dogs to attack me,” he shouted as he fled.

I could hear Mzee Jeremiah shouting and throwing curse words and threats at me as he ran for his dear life.

As the commotion died, I started chatting with Tesh on WhatsApp. I thanked her for helping me acquire insurance for my animals.

Interestingly, she also suggested that she will help drill the borehole that I had even forgotten about.

But even as we chatted, my mind was on Wandia, the girl I adore. It was two days since we last spoke and she had not even replied to my message.

“May be Tesh posted the selfie with my cows again on Facebook,” I thought.

Later that day, sitting under a tree waiting for milking time, Wakageorge delivered a message from the chief. It was written on an old exercise book page folded into two and stapled at the centre.

The note, in mother tongue, said that Mzee Jeremiah had reported that I had poisoned his tomatoes and set dogs on him.

The chief asked me to report to his office the next day, warning of unnamed consequences if I fail. I will visit the office accompanied with a city lawyer Adenya has promised to supply.

They are yet to see my true colours.