Who is he?

Sometimes back at the beginning of the 21st Century.

In the campaigns secretariat of Honorable Peter Mapesa;

"We cannot afford to lose this election!" Peter said. "We risk everything, and I mean everything! If we don't fight for this position, we are completely finished!" he bellowed.

All the people in the room recoiled at his fierce voice. As he spoke, droplets of saliva sputtered out of his mouth. He was visibly worked up.

"The boy is gaining unprecedented momentum! I wonder where your pollsters were when he was overturning the tables!" he went on. Seeing nobody was bold enough to answer him back he went to his seat at the head of the room and sank on it.

Cleo, his chief strategist looked up at him and wanted to say something. He measured the atmosphere to see if he would get audience. Satisfied, he cleared his throat loud enough to get all heads turned to him.

"I think we can still win this election!" he began. There was rapt attention in the room. Peter, who had not raised even an ear since sinking to his chair, snorted and continued looking down. To him, Cleo was the first one who had failed him. Cleo looked at him, he wasn't expecting him to look up but he knew he was listening even if would still oppose.

"Let us turn the tide against the boy! Let us clip his wings!" Cleo boldly stated. There was silence momentarily then the voice from the head-table spoke up.

"How do you intent to do that!?" Peter asked.

"Sir, we can get something up his sleeves that would turn the people against him. We must stop him from being a darling to them! We….." Cleo was still going on when Peter suddenly erupted.

"You vagabond! Always beating around the bush and not answering my question! Always vague! I ask you in simple terms, 'how are we going to bring him down?" he thundered.

Cleo stammered for a moment but picked himself up almost immediately. He was determined to save his face before Peter.

"I know of a skeleton in his closet that we can use. Let us bring it out! Let the people see the skeleton, and this would be a true reflection of who he really is! And they would trust him no more with their votes!" Cleo said.

"Very well!" Peter said, "I hope the skeleton is rotten and stinky enough to scare the wits out of the electorates!"

Peter was the incumbent Member of Parliament, MP, representing Maziwa constituency, an area that encompassed Mbaka area. Since the time he was elected into office, he has been running unopposed for four consecutive terms in parliament. He had never imagined that there would one day be a person, bold enough, to rise to challenge him! Furthermore, he always said he did not even need to campaign in order to defend his seat, since he would still win. Every five years when elections were being held, he was the only candidate in the ballot from the entire constituency!

Where had this opponent come from?

The opponent was a boy called Madaraka, a young man in his early twenties. He was from the village on the hill, Mbaka Village. But who was he really?

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Ten Years earlier

There was a village set on a hill in the country side. It was called Mbaka Village. It was a little known village with no leader in the political arena of the country. It did not have many people. But it was not all forgotten because at least, many years ago, the colonial government had allowed missionaries into the area and they had established one missionary center in the village. Hosted at this center were a church, a school and a health facility.

The villagers, at first, did not like the white people who spoke the strange language and came with new teachings. But with time the people accepted them. They even became converts to the new faith. They dressed and spoke like them. And now, years after the colonialists had left, and some missionaries had left too, most of the facilities were given back to the government of the day. They were run by fellow countrymen. But a few were headed by churches which were linked to the missionaries. The school and hospital in Mbaka Village was owned by the government.

However, not everyone lived a luxurious life. It all depended on which class one was in the society for you to afford certain things. The government that had taken over from the colonialists had promised free basic education to all. But that was just it, basic education. Beyond that one needed means and resources to gain.

In Mbaka Village there lived a boy. His name was Madaraka. He was the second born son, but the third to be born in a family of six. His family was poor. The parents, like many others in the village, relied on daily wages earned by working for certain rich men in the nearby villages. These men were the few lucky ones who made their way into the government and got well-paying jobs. Some headed government parastatals, others were ambassadors to foreign lands, or ministers in the government. There were also doctors and renowned large scale farmers. But all these came from the villages beyond Mbaka. Here, they had no famous or rich men. They were simply the locals.

Madaraka studied at the village school. He was in his second last year of his upper primary education. In their family, he was the most learned, by virtue of reaching the Seventh Class in primary school. His elder brother had dropped out while at the fourth class. Then the girl who was second born in the family but first among girls, was already married. She only reached the fifth class before dropping out.

On this day, Madaraka wakes up as usual, at a quarter to six in the morning. He rises from his bedding. The bedding was not much but comfortable all the same. It was made of an old animal skin covering a stack of dried leaves from the banana plant. The stack was made in a shape of a bed and was laid on the floor then covered by the skin.

Therefore, Madaraka slept in this grass-thatched house alone as his elder brother had recently married and built his own hut at the other end of the compound. His other younger brothers still slept in his grandparent's house. As for Madaraka, having gone through initiation recently he was now considered a man and was not permitted to sleep in the same house as his parents or grandparents. They called this hurt Esimba.

Madaraka came out of his esimba and stood outside, he yawned then stretched his back. He had enjoyed last night's sleep. But now was a new day. He had to brace up for the day's activities. His task was well defined for him. Every day as he woke up he headed to the kitchen where his sister Miri would have warm water ready for him. He took the water to the cow's shed where he milked their one heifer. The water is used to wash the cow's teats and make them tender for milking. Then he would bring the milk back to the kitchen and take banana and maize stalks to the feeding stalls for the cows. The younger brothers helped with watering the animals. Sometimes he finished putting the food before the kids brought water and he assisted them in that task too.

Then they would all bath and take their tea prepared by their sister with either roasted sweet potatoes or yester-night's leftovers. Then they would head to school. Mbaka village was one of the few areas in the region which had embraced education following the years after the colonialists had left. The level of illiteracy was still high but things were slowly changing around the country. Informal education received at home, though valued, was not enough. With the changing patterns of life, economic and political status, people had to change their way of life too.

What ailed many was the poverty levels. Hardly anybody from the village had reached high school level of education. Normally they attributed this to the lack of money to take their children to secondary schools located in other villages. There was no secondary school at Mbaka. Only the primary one, started by the colonialists then handed over to the government. It was not a big school either.

That morning the students arrived in school. Madaraka and his sister Miri and the two younger brothers arrived at the same time. It was exactly twenty minutes past seven o'clock. Normally the bell would ring at a half past seven to indicate lateness. All learners were by then expected to be in school. The teacher on duty would lock the gates and gather the late-comers to one corner and give them "special assignment" to make them come earlier the following day.

Madaraka always ensured his siblings arrive earlier so that they are never punished. Deep in him, he wanted them to excel in their studies, just as he was doing. His elder brother and the sister that he followed had not completed their education and this hurt Madaraka, secretly. He determined that he would influence his siblings to love education and go through with it to any levels that they would be able to.