A mother's encouragement!

"Our lesson today is Provincial administration," the teacher said. She was speaking to the learners in the seventh class.

They were in the social and civic study class. It was one of the subjects that Madaraka really enjoyed attending. He listened to the teacher with rapt attention! He did not want even a word to pass him.

He sat upright and listened to the teacher.

"Who knows what it means by administration?" the teacher posed. The whole class was quiet, nobody seemed to have the answer. Others looked down, pretending to read, while others stared blankly at the teacher.

Madaraka scratched his head and the teacher noticed him.

"Would you give it a try, Madaraka?" she asked, moving closer to his row. He sat at the second row from the front. He pondered for a while then stood up.

"I think administration refers to managing the affairs of a place," he answered. The teacher looked at him admiringly.

"That is very good Madaraka. Yes! Administration refers to managing or running the affairs of an institution or department. It is playing the supervisory role of other staffs and activities that need to be undertaken by the same institution," the teacher explained. She went ahead to give various illustrations of what administration was and ensured that her whole class was comprehending what she thought.

"Now class, you remember we learnt about the arms of government, right, who can remind us any of the arms?"

Once again the class looked at one another. The teacher encouraged them on and slowly one after the other they gave various responses. At the end they had correctly named executive, legislature and judiciary as the three main arms of the government.

The teacher reminded them of the role and composition of each of the arms.

"Therefore, provincial administration falls under the executive arm of the government. However, all these three arms work together, or ought to work together."

After explaining this she went ahead to draw with them a chart showing the hierarchical structure of provincial administration personnel.

At the bottom of the chart was the village elders followed upwards with sub-chiefs, then the chief heading a location. Madaraka looked at the chart again and raised his hand up.

"Teacher, does every village have a chief and a sub-chief?" he asked. He was short of adding that he had never heard of a chief or sub-chief in his village, but actually that was the reason for his question.

"No Madaraka. A chief heads a location, which is made up of two or more sub-locations. Every sub-location is headed by a sub-chief. One sub-location might be made up of several villages. So the sub-chief might be chosen from any of the villages but he or she will be the administrator of all the villages in that sub-location. What every village has are the village elders," she said.

The teacher had taken her time to explain properly and in a moderate pace so that all the learners grasped the concept. Madaraka listened so attentively, following every word the teacher spoke.

But as the teacher went on, his mind also pictured Mbaka Village where he came from. Had he ever heard of a chief or sub-chief from their village?

That evening when he went home, after all the activites that he did after school, he sat down for meals. They always sat as a family to eat. His mind was still running over the questions that kept assaulting him. He wondered if he should ask his father about them. But the father had already noticed how preoccupied he was that evening.

"Madaraka!" he called. The son did not respond so he called for the second time. On the third call the sister who was sitting beside him knocked him by the ribs and at the same time the father's voice also hit his ears with a startling effect. He responded in an unnecessarily loud voice.

"Yes Father!" he said. His young siblings laughed.

"What is it that is troubling you?" the father asked.

"Ah...ah!" he began, stammering, then kept quiet after wondering what he should say. The father maintained his stern look on him. Madaraka realized he had to speak.

"I was just wondering…about our provincial administration," he said. The father turned to the mother, she stared at the husband then they all looked at Madaraka, their eyes bearing a confused look in them. Madaraka saw how lost they were and felt bad to have spoken. But now that he had started it, he had to face it. He quickly paraphrased his statement in a simple question.

"Dad! Who is our chief? Does he come from our village?" he asked hoping this too, wouldn't be a hard question for his illiterate parents. He was proud of them because, although they themselves attended no school, they ensured their children did. It was up to them to study or not to.

"Oh! You mean the chief!?" the father said. Madaraka waited with an unabated breathing!

"Yes! We have a chief! But he is in Mukoma village! That is where his office is!" the father said. Mukoma village, as Madaraka knew, was three villages away from his. It was very far. He wondered why the chief would be far away.

"What about the sub-chief?" he asked again.

"Ah that one, no I think the one in Mukoma is the sub-chief. The chief himself is based at Kiru market. But we rarely see him. That is very far for us to go!" the father responded again.

"Why do you ask?" he went on. Madaraka reasoned.

"We learnt in school today about their roles," he answered his father. "I think it is very important that we have our chief and sub-chief near us. That way, we can easily access government services," he explained himself. All the family members stared at him. He was the learned fellow among them.

"Father, both Mukoma and Kiru are very far away from us. Why can't we have our own chief and sub-chief near us? One should at least be from our village!" he said. He now spoke with a certain authority in his voice. He felt the need to have the set-up of provincial administration right from their village.

"My son! Why should we have the chief and the sub-chief from our village?" the mother who was silent now asked.

"You see mother, their offices are very, very important. They connect us with the top leadership of the country. It is through them that we can get government services and make our requests also known to the government," he spoke up boldly and with much conviction once more.

"Madaraka! You speak so well! But what powers do we have to get our own chief? Furthermore, who among us can be a chief for that matter? Who is reach enough to buy his way into the government?" the father spoke, pushing his plates away. He was through with his meal.

At that very moment, Madaraka wanted to speak out what was in his mind. It had been there all along and had been building up day by day. It was a dream of rising up to a position of leadership in the village. Then when the social and civic teacher had taught them about Provincial administration, his eyes had opened wider. It was like a flashlight had been handed to him while he was in the dark. Now he could see the path ahead of him. It was now clear to him. He knew right then what he wanted to be. He also knew where he would start from. He just didn't know how!

But he hesitated. He wondered, 'would his parents understand him when he tells them?' Madaraka looked at the father, then o the mother. He wanted to speak up. He looked at his siblings too, then to his parents.

"Man up, Madaraka!" he told himself. He remembered what their head teacher once said, "Only losers will be afraid to take the first step! But I tell you, the hardest step in doing anything is that first step! Once you take it, then the journey opens up and you can maneuver in any way you want until you reach the end!"

The words of the head teacher rang clear in his mind once again! I must make this step today, he said.

He took a deep breath and said, "Father, Mother!" he called out to them, and they all looked at him questioningly. He waited for the magic spell to build up before he spoke again.

"I want to be the leader of this village! I want to be the chief!" he said. There was a very loud silence in the room. Then suddenly the father burst out.

"What!?" he shouted, both surprised and disbelieving, "Chief of the village?" the father asked again.

"Yes father!" he responded, and as if to reassure himself, he said again, "I want to be the chief!" the father looked at him for some moments. Madaraka raised his head and their eyes locked. He wanted to search his face to see whether he approved or not. He did not see any sign in the father. Instead, the father looked away for a minute then walked away saying under his breath, "Chief! Chief!"

Madaraka followed his father with his eyes, wanting to shout at him to say out loud what his thoughts were but he didn't. The father walked out of the house. Madaraka could make out something like a shaking of the father's head. He then slowly turned to his mother. He looked straight at her. The mother looked back at him and smiled, slowly at first, then the grin widened.

She rose up and tapped the son's shouders looking into his eyes.

"You will make a great leader, my son!" she said. That was all that Madaraka needed.