The Village Bulldozer

      A heavy wind was blowing from the Northern direction to the South. The trees swayed like they would fall the next minute. The leaves of a Muhuyu tree under which a village committee sat fell like the heavy rains of the 1997. The sun high in sky was tough like a hungry Lion in a zoo. The committee had coverged to chew a word about Mr Mulogo who had become a dangerous disease to the indigenous people. He had now erected a house in the middle of the path that led to the only well where people got water. And announced that no one should pass via his land. This had angered the locals provoking them to scribble a letter to the village chairperson. In a few days to come he was to set up a one thousand meter perimeter wall that would see the well off the eyes of the natives.
       Mr Mulogo was a rich man who had gathered a big sum of paper. When he came to Muhula village,he had exchanged his paper for land with the frustrated villagers who saw life as a balloon in the air about to fall on spear grass. He also doubled as a cabinet minister in the Kampanga government. He was a cunning man who never saw meat pass his mouth. His nature was elastic, enough to exploit every opportunity that came dancing his way. He had now swallowed about fourteen hectares of land and his elastic belly was still demanding. To him the poverty of a local man was his pride. In it he could get whatever property he wanted by a matter of throwing half quarter money of the properties value.
   " I am a Boss, I dream and it happens" pipe dreams are for the dead. I'm living. verity is what I eat."
He had always bragged in the presence of his entourages.
    " Go get me a cold sip."the one that is long as a pestle."
And the entourage runs to the nearest shop. That was his life always.
       Now that the village committee had coverged. Everyone was waiting for a decision that was to be made by the heads of the village. They were the only hope that the indigenous people had. Where were they to draw water after the man who had a lot of money has enclosed the well with a huge wall. And how would the chairperson whose house was built by Mulogo in appreciation of accommodating him to his village make a hash decision against him. For he had been a long time friend of the bulldozer. He had always run to him in case he wanted to be rescued in terms of finance. And the rich man had always been of good benefit to him.
      "Thank you so much,I wouldn't have managed if it wasn't for your help."
      "Never mind, you can count on me any time."
       Like the colonialists Mr Mulogo had mastered the art of killing the snake by its head. He did not beat about the bush on respecting God's instruction to the first humans on how to revenge against the serpent that opened their eyes to see the nakedness they wore.