Injusticeae corrupta by mwangi gituro

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Once upon a time, there was a tree that was planted in the village of jamhuri. The tree was right in the middle of the path to uhuru. As the tree grew, it obstructed meaningful development in jamhuri. The villagers were not happy with the tree. The tree had been planted by the first chief of jamhuri amid protests from some of the village elders and villagers. Soon enough, the tree started producing fruits. The fruits were enjoyed by members of the chief’s family and his close friends. As it grew bigger, the fruits increased and the chief’s friends started to extend the delicacies to their friends too. The villagers started suffering as a result of this tree. Nobody was allowed to eat any fruit from the tree or use it for any other purpose without the direct permission from the chief himself. As time went by, those who were benefiting from the tree saw no need to work as the tree was taking care of all their needs. Their kids played on that tree all day while their pet parrots had their nests on the tree. The chief and his friends had constructed hammocks on the tree to relax on whenever their stomachs were full. They would rest on their hammocks enjoying the cool breeze from the tree and listen to the chirping of their pet parrots all day. They talked of how lucky they were to be enjoying the fruits of jamhuri. They were quick to congratulate the chief for planting such a sweet tree and restricting the number of people who could eat from it. The chief was a bit concerned with the villagers not being able to eat anything from the tree.

“These are our matunda ya jamhuri. Let them go collect matunda ya uhuru.” Quipped one of his friends and proceeded to sip wine made from the same fruits.

Uhuru was a big forest that neighboured the village of jamhuri. There was only one path that led into uhuru as the forest was surrounded by a crocodile infested river. The chief used to lead the villagers into the forest and they would gather matunda ya uhuru and take them back into the village for everyone to share. This was long before he had planted the injusticeae corrupta species. The villagers led by the chief would fight off any attack from wild animals. The fruits of uhuru were self sustaining and the villagers needed only to sustain the environment for the forest to provide them with plenty for eternity. The chief and his cronies however had other ideas. When the chief planted his tree in the middle of the path to uhuru, he had looked for a location where the tree would get adequate water from the river. Having settled for a spot near the bridge, he blocked the path and nobody could gain access to the forest. He also stopped leading his villagers to collect and enjoy the fruits of uhuru. They even allocated themselves some of the best fruit bearing trees of uhuru and dared any villager who wished to die to eat from the trees. Villagers were now left with only one option. Those who could dare swam across the crocodile infested river to get to uhuru and collect some of the sour fruits that the chief and his buddies had no use for. Many of those who took the risk were devoured by crocodiles while those who survived the river were not so lucky with the wild animals. Only a small number made it back with the sour fruits of uhuru and planted the seeds in their own shambas. Due to the risk involved, none dared share the seeds with the others. The majority of villagers toiled and ate dry cassava with bitter herbs. With time, they forgot the taste of matunda ya uhuru.

Injusticeae corrupra thrived and thrived. Its roots reached far and wide. Its leaves remained green in good weather and in bad weather. It bore fruits in high season and in low season. The chief and his cronies grew healthier from eating the fruits of jamhuri and with the satiation come arrogance. The villagers were bedazzled. It was fine with them if the chief had decided they were not worth of partaking matunda ya jamhuri but why on earth couldn’t they enjoy matunda ya uhuru? Matunda ya uhuru rightfully belonged to the people of jamhuri. Matunda ya uhuru were plenty and enough for all and sundry. Why had it been made so difficult to access matunda ya uhuru? Why was it necessary to close the path to uhuru yet there were so many other spots where the chief could have planted his injusticeae corrupta? The villagers wished they had answers to these questions yet the more they thought about them, the more they got confused.

There was one particular village elder who fell out with the chief completely because of the chief’s tree. He did not see why jamhuri needed a tree to specifically cater for the needs of the chief and his friends. He was of the idea that all able men should go to uhuru and return with the days requirements which should then be shared out equally to all villagers. The chief thought him crazy and kicked him out of the council of elders. To isolate him even more, the chief made it difficult for the elder’s region in the village to get vital resources. Before the quarrel, villagers from the western part of the village where the elder hailed from could cross the river and access the forest of uhuru. The river on that side was a quite narrow and was less infested with crocodiles. After the fight, the river banks were sank to widen it and crocodiles were bred on the western bank to prevent access to matunda ya uhuru.

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