(The Gatekeepers of Lari. Early morning. A dusty road winding through the hills of Lari. Cowbells in the distance. Goats bleating. Cold mist hanging low over the valleys. Several political aspirants walk nervously carrying; envelopes, goats, baskets, and gifts wrapped carefully in traditional clothing. No one speaks loudly. The atmosphere feels sacred. Dangerously sacred.)
Crowd: (softly) To win in Lari…you must pass here. Not through the people. Not through ideas. But through one gate.
(Slow lights reveal Kwamûnene in the distance. A large homestead. Quiet. Fenced. Powerful without trying to appear powerful. The kind of place where decisions are made without records.)
Kijabe Aspirant: (whispering) Is this the place?
Kinale Aspirant: This is it. Kwamûnene. Where votes are weighed before ballots.
(Mutumia wa Kamburu enters slowly leaning on a walking stick. She studies the aspirants carefully. Not impressed. Not surprised.)
Mutumia wa Kamburu: Long ago… this was only a home. Now it is; an office without files, a court without law, and a polling station without ballot boxes.
(The aspirants shift uneasily.)
Nyanduma Youth: (quietly) Then why do people still come?
Mutumia wa Kamburu: Because fear travels faster than democracy and association with the savior is all the voters want.
(Aspirants approach gate slowly. One knocks gently. Silence. Only animals heard chewing inside. Then a calm voice emerges from within.)
Munene: (offstage) Enter.
(Lights shift. Inside Kwamûnene. The stage changes slowly. Cows grazing freely. Healthy goats. Fat sheep. Workers moving quietly. Envelopes exchanged discreetly. No shouting. No campaign music. Power here is calm.)
Munene: (smiling warmly) You have come early. Lari people respects seriousness.
Kinale Aspirant: (pushing envelope forward) I seek direct party ticket nomination.
Munene: Thirikari ni nene. Government is big. There is space for everyone…somewhere; ministries, state departments, commissions, consulates.
(Kijabe Aspirant presents goats proudly.)
Kijabe Aspirant: From Kijabe. With respect.
Munene: (examining goats carefully) Good breed. Very loyal. (Pause.) Leadership also requires loyalty.
(Workers quietly lead goats away. The Ranch slowly grows. More animals appear gradually throughout scene.)
Crowd: (chanting softly) Cows from Kamburu. Goats from Kijabe. Sheep from Kinale. Envelopes from Lari/Kirenga. Votes from everywhere.
Nyanduma Youth: (aside) Is leadership now livestock? Is democracy measured in tribal kingpin?
(Aspirants now seated waiting nervously. Munene moves slowly among them. Like a king inspecting a guard of honor.)
Aspirant: What of my people?
Munene: They will vote correctly.
Aspirant: And correctly means?
Munene: (smiles faintly) You.
Aspirant: And if they choose differently?
(A long silence.)
Munene: Lari people know the path. They follow the direction I show them. And if they deviate there will always be a place for you in my government.
Crowd: Some were promised direct party nominations. Some promised jobs. Some tenders. Some only hope.
Mutumia wa Kamburu: (stepping forward slowly) And what do the people receive?
(Silence.)
Munene: Stability.
Nyanduma Youth: Or silence?
(Munene looks away. Lights widen slowly. The Ranch now dominates the stage. More cattle. More goats. More wealth. Meanwhile dim lights reveal villages far away; muddy roads, broken schools, sick children, women carrying water. The contrast becomes painful.)
Crowd: Kwamûnene has grown. But Lari villages shrink.
Nyanduma Youth: Schools remain stories. Roads remain speeches. Hospitals remain prayers.
Mutumia wa Kamburu: This ranch eats better than our children.
(The Ranch stands still. Silent. Powerful. Untouchable. Lights shift suddenly. Campaign Period: Campaign posters everywhere. Whispers moving through crowd.)
Crowd: They ask; “Who are you voting for?”
Voices: “The one from Kwamûnene.” “The chosen one.” “The safe choice.” “It is what Munene said.”
Nyanduma Youth: (firmly) But what if we choose differently? What if we try Gichuka Waithera?
(The crowd becomes tense immediately. Fear. Silence. People avoid eye contact.)
Crowd: (softly) Lari ní mataha ma mûkimo……and it is served by Munene.
(At edge of stage Munene stands silently watching. Calm. Confident. Certain.)
Crowd: When power becomes a gate…citizens become visitors. When leaders trade favors for loyalty…the future is mortgaged. Beware of Lari…where votes pass through one home…and democracy waits outside. (Curtain.)
Crowd: (softly) To win in Lari…you must pass here. Not through the people. Not through ideas. But through one gate.
(Slow lights reveal Kwamûnene in the distance. A large homestead. Quiet. Fenced. Powerful without trying to appear powerful. The kind of place where decisions are made without records.)
Kijabe Aspirant: (whispering) Is this the place?
Kinale Aspirant: This is it. Kwamûnene. Where votes are weighed before ballots.
(Mutumia wa Kamburu enters slowly leaning on a walking stick. She studies the aspirants carefully. Not impressed. Not surprised.)
Mutumia wa Kamburu: Long ago… this was only a home. Now it is; an office without files, a court without law, and a polling station without ballot boxes.
(The aspirants shift uneasily.)
Nyanduma Youth: (quietly) Then why do people still come?
Mutumia wa Kamburu: Because fear travels faster than democracy and association with the savior is all the voters want.
(Aspirants approach gate slowly. One knocks gently. Silence. Only animals heard chewing inside. Then a calm voice emerges from within.)
Munene: (offstage) Enter.
(Lights shift. Inside Kwamûnene. The stage changes slowly. Cows grazing freely. Healthy goats. Fat sheep. Workers moving quietly. Envelopes exchanged discreetly. No shouting. No campaign music. Power here is calm.)
Munene: (smiling warmly) You have come early. Lari people respects seriousness.
Kinale Aspirant: (pushing envelope forward) I seek direct party ticket nomination.
Munene: Thirikari ni nene. Government is big. There is space for everyone…somewhere; ministries, state departments, commissions, consulates.
(Kijabe Aspirant presents goats proudly.)
Kijabe Aspirant: From Kijabe. With respect.
Munene: (examining goats carefully) Good breed. Very loyal. (Pause.) Leadership also requires loyalty.
(Workers quietly lead goats away. The Ranch slowly grows. More animals appear gradually throughout scene.)
Crowd: (chanting softly) Cows from Kamburu. Goats from Kijabe. Sheep from Kinale. Envelopes from Lari/Kirenga. Votes from everywhere.
Nyanduma Youth: (aside) Is leadership now livestock? Is democracy measured in tribal kingpin?
(Aspirants now seated waiting nervously. Munene moves slowly among them. Like a king inspecting a guard of honor.)
Aspirant: What of my people?
Munene: They will vote correctly.
Aspirant: And correctly means?
Munene: (smiles faintly) You.
Aspirant: And if they choose differently?
(A long silence.)
Munene: Lari people know the path. They follow the direction I show them. And if they deviate there will always be a place for you in my government.
Crowd: Some were promised direct party nominations. Some promised jobs. Some tenders. Some only hope.
Mutumia wa Kamburu: (stepping forward slowly) And what do the people receive?
(Silence.)
Munene: Stability.
Nyanduma Youth: Or silence?
(Munene looks away. Lights widen slowly. The Ranch now dominates the stage. More cattle. More goats. More wealth. Meanwhile dim lights reveal villages far away; muddy roads, broken schools, sick children, women carrying water. The contrast becomes painful.)
Crowd: Kwamûnene has grown. But Lari villages shrink.
Nyanduma Youth: Schools remain stories. Roads remain speeches. Hospitals remain prayers.
Mutumia wa Kamburu: This ranch eats better than our children.
(The Ranch stands still. Silent. Powerful. Untouchable. Lights shift suddenly. Campaign Period: Campaign posters everywhere. Whispers moving through crowd.)
Crowd: They ask; “Who are you voting for?”
Voices: “The one from Kwamûnene.” “The chosen one.” “The safe choice.” “It is what Munene said.”
Nyanduma Youth: (firmly) But what if we choose differently? What if we try Gichuka Waithera?
(The crowd becomes tense immediately. Fear. Silence. People avoid eye contact.)
Crowd: (softly) Lari ní mataha ma mûkimo……and it is served by Munene.
(At edge of stage Munene stands silently watching. Calm. Confident. Certain.)
Crowd: When power becomes a gate…citizens become visitors. When leaders trade favors for loyalty…the future is mortgaged. Beware of Lari…where votes pass through one home…and democracy waits outside. (Curtain.)
