By Pascal Mwandambo
The other day I told you about the state of our school since the untimely closure due to Corona crisis.
The life that used to ebb out of the institution has been snuffed out, save for the compound cleaner, who has been making occasional visits to trim the grass.
The school farm attendant Chaka Demus has also been attending to the cows and chicken, though there are rumours that part of the proceeds from the milk and eggs have been ending up in his pockets.
However, that is not the reason why yours truly and Napoleon my biology counterpart held an urgent meeting with Obote the principal.
Our main concern was the school food in the store that had begun going to waste with weevils burrowing into the grains while potatoes and onions had begun germinating.
Before our meeting, I had a troubling discussion with Napoleon on how the two of us could make some money from the food ration before it goes to complete waste.
I say troubled because Napoleon is a very thick-skinned fellow and making a lucrative deal with him requires something close to divine intervention.
I planned to convince Obote that the grain had been infected with aflatoxin, effectively rendering it unfit for human consumption.
On that score, we would have watered down his earlier suggestion that we give out the foodstuff free as part of our Covid -19 corporate social responsibility gesture.
“How do we convince the Principal that the grain is infested with aflatoxin? Remember Obote is a very sharp person.” Napoleon had doubted.
I reminded him that we were the science teachers while Obote, despite being our boss, was a history material.
I almost reminded Napoleon to support me on this plan as a way of paying me back after I saved his skin following the silly mistake he made concerning the school fish farming project where some clever chap sold him tadpoles instead of tilapia fingerlings.
Were it not for me, Obote could have skinned Napoleon alive.
Finally, after a heated discussion, we agreed that the grains be set ablaze to keep aflatoxin at bay.
We also agreed that the onions and potatoes should be replanted in the school farm as seedlings, till schools reopen possibly in January.
As soon as we concluded the meeting I assigned Napoleon the task of getting a buyer who would purchase the grains at a reasonable market price.
I chose to undertake the other part that requires more thinking, which included duping the school management that we had indeed destroyed the aflatoxin- infested grains.
In the evening I visited Mburu Kenge, a saw miller in the outskirts of Mavumbi town.
After a brief chat centring on COVID manenos, how businesses had hit rock bottom due to the pandemic, I opened up to Kenge and told him to arrange for three big sacks of sawdust.
“You educated fellows never cease to amaze. So this time around, what is it with you and sawdust?” the mzee fupi round wondered, scratching his moustache.
I told him that the stuff was for use as a soft material for the chicken to lay eggs on.
“Mwalimu, I don’t think sawdust is the best material for that purpose,” Kenge opined.
I told him that our school chicken was from China and their breeding habits were also unique, unlike the local shenzi type.
I shoved some money into his breast pocket and rose to leave, promising to go back for my consignment of sawdust.
My prayer is that everything goes as planned. After all, in these difficult corona times, no avenue of making money should be left unexplored. Haven’t you heard of corona-millionaires?
