(Early morning on a muddy road in Rukuma. Sounds of heavy rain fading slowly. Shoes sinking into mud. Water dripping from iron roofs. A vehicle engine struggling somewhere offstage. People grunting while pushing something heavy.)
Mzee Kihoto: In Lari, public services do not break during elections. No. During elections, they work or seem to work. But they break after elections. That is when promises melt into mud.
(Enter villagers carrying; shovels, wheelbarrows, stones, jembes, sacks of soil. They move with painful familiarity, like people repeating an old ritual.)
Youth Leader: Come quickly! The cabbage lorry got stuck again!
Crowd: Bring stones! Bring leaves! Bring jembes!
Woman from Kirenga: Yesterday we repaired this road!
Youth Leader: And today the rain voted against us again.
(Laughter mixed with frustration.)
Mzee Kihoto: From Lari/Kirenga to Kijabe…From Nyanduma to Kamburu…From Kijabe to Kinale…the people have become their own government. But the leaders says, “barabara ithûkíte kûndû guothe.”
(Villagers begin filling potholes. Some shovel mud. Others push stones and fresh leaves into water. Children help silently. Everything feels too familiar.)
Young Boy: Why are we always the ones fixing the road?
Mzee Kihoto: Because if we wait for the county or national government…your beard will grow and be grey before it is repaired.
Crowd: Eh! True! True!
Woman from Kirenga: At least we are helping ourselves.
(Pause.)
Mzee Kihoto: And that…is how noble suffering becomes permanent policy. The leaders know you will fix your problems on your own.
(Lights shift slowly. Inside the MCA’s Office. A clean office. Soft music. Tea being poured. Comfortable chairs. Laughter. The contrast with the muddy road feels painful.)
Ward MCA: How is the ground situation?
Buroga: Excellent.
Ward MCA: Excellent?
Buroga: The people repaired the roads themselves.
Ward MCA: Wonderful citizens.
Buroga: The traders unclogged the sewer too.
Ward MCA: Responsible people.
Buroga: And the market women collected garbage money again.
Ward MCA: Development-minded voters.
(They laugh comfortably. Lights shift back outside. The villagers are still struggling in mud. Still pushing. Still sweating.)
Mzee Kihoto: The leaders sleep peacefully because the people have volunteered to suffer quietly.
Tenant: We contributed money again yesterday.
Nyina wa Wanja: We bought gloves and cleaned the market ourselves.
Tenant: The sewer blocked again this morning.
Nyina wa Wanja: The smell now has its own address.
(Laughter.)
Tenant: Why do we keep doing government work?
(Silence.)
(At Kagwe Market. Garbage piled nearby. Flies buzzing loudly. Dirty water flowing beside vegetables.)
Nyina wa Wanja: Move that cabbage away from the sewage water!
Woman from Kirenga: We should organize another cleaning day.
Gichuka Waithera: No.
(Silence.)
Crowd: No?
Gichuka Waithera: Yaah. Let the garbage stay.
(Shock.)
Tenant: Kiongozi… people will complain.
Gichuka Waithera: Good.
Woman from Kirenga: Children may get sick.
Gichuka Waithera: And maybe then the leaders will remember you exist. Lari leaders are awakened by chaos.
Youth Leader: But helping ourselves is unity.
Gichuka Waithera: No. It is soothing voters’ bitterness and helping leaders escape responsibility.
(Pause.)
Mzee Kihoto: The words fell heavily. Like rain on iron sheets.
Tenant: So what should we do? Leave roads muddy?
Gichuka Waithera: Yes.
Nyina wa Wanja: Leave sewers clogged?
Gichuka Waithera: Yes.
Woman from Kirenga: Allow garbage everywhere?
Gichuka Waithera: Yes…until embarrassment becomes louder than our silence. Until neglect becomes political. Until leadership failure can no longer hide behind your endurance.
(Long silence. Thunder rumbles in distance. Heavy rain begins again. Cars stuck. People trapped. Mud everywhere.)
Voice of The Rain: You covered potholes…but you covered leadership failure too.
Crowd: The road is gone! The bridge is flooded!
Young Boy: Where is the MCA?
(Silence.)
Mzee Kihoto: During campaigns, leaders arrive before sunrise. During floods…even their phones drown.
(Villagers gather slowly. No one working now. No shovels moving. No one volunteering. Only anger.)
Tenant: No more garbage contributions.
Nyina wa Wanja: No more carrying medical supplies to dispensaries.
Woman from Kirenga: No more buying stones for roads.
Youth Leader: Then what do we do?
Gichuka Waithera: We complain loudly. Publicly. Relentlessly.
Mzee Kihoto: For the first time…the people discovered that bitterness could also become political language.
(Campaign music suddenly heard in distance. A convoy approaches.)
Ward MCA (offstage): My people! My hardworking people!
(No cheers.)
Ward MCA: Why are the roads so bad?
Crowd: Because you are the leader.
(Silence.)
Buroga: Why is garbage everywhere?
Nyina wa Wanja: Because we stopped doing your job.
Ward MCA: Why didn’t you unclog the sewer?
Tenant: We already elected people for that.
(Long silence.)
Mzee Kihoto: And suddenly…the mud became political. The garbage became political. The smell became political.
Gichuka Waithera: Bitterness is dangerous only when it sleeps.
Woman from Kirenga: And dignity begins the day people stop normalizing neglect.
(The villagers stand silently beside the flooded road. No shovels. No wheelbarrows. No stones. Only silence.)
Young Boy: Will the road be repaired?
Mzee Kihoto: Eventually.
Young Boy: By who?
(Long silence.)
Crowd: By those elected to repair it.
(Thunder in distance.)
Mzee Kihoto: Lari people were never poor in strength. Only too hungry for handouts. And willing to do what the government is supposed to do.
(Curtain falls slowly. Silence. Then distant sounds of rain…and sinking tires.)
Mzee Kihoto: In Lari, public services do not break during elections. No. During elections, they work or seem to work. But they break after elections. That is when promises melt into mud.
(Enter villagers carrying; shovels, wheelbarrows, stones, jembes, sacks of soil. They move with painful familiarity, like people repeating an old ritual.)
Youth Leader: Come quickly! The cabbage lorry got stuck again!
Crowd: Bring stones! Bring leaves! Bring jembes!
Woman from Kirenga: Yesterday we repaired this road!
Youth Leader: And today the rain voted against us again.
(Laughter mixed with frustration.)
Mzee Kihoto: From Lari/Kirenga to Kijabe…From Nyanduma to Kamburu…From Kijabe to Kinale…the people have become their own government. But the leaders says, “barabara ithûkíte kûndû guothe.”
(Villagers begin filling potholes. Some shovel mud. Others push stones and fresh leaves into water. Children help silently. Everything feels too familiar.)
Young Boy: Why are we always the ones fixing the road?
Mzee Kihoto: Because if we wait for the county or national government…your beard will grow and be grey before it is repaired.
Crowd: Eh! True! True!
Woman from Kirenga: At least we are helping ourselves.
(Pause.)
Mzee Kihoto: And that…is how noble suffering becomes permanent policy. The leaders know you will fix your problems on your own.
(Lights shift slowly. Inside the MCA’s Office. A clean office. Soft music. Tea being poured. Comfortable chairs. Laughter. The contrast with the muddy road feels painful.)
Ward MCA: How is the ground situation?
Buroga: Excellent.
Ward MCA: Excellent?
Buroga: The people repaired the roads themselves.
Ward MCA: Wonderful citizens.
Buroga: The traders unclogged the sewer too.
Ward MCA: Responsible people.
Buroga: And the market women collected garbage money again.
Ward MCA: Development-minded voters.
(They laugh comfortably. Lights shift back outside. The villagers are still struggling in mud. Still pushing. Still sweating.)
Mzee Kihoto: The leaders sleep peacefully because the people have volunteered to suffer quietly.
Tenant: We contributed money again yesterday.
Nyina wa Wanja: We bought gloves and cleaned the market ourselves.
Tenant: The sewer blocked again this morning.
Nyina wa Wanja: The smell now has its own address.
(Laughter.)
Tenant: Why do we keep doing government work?
(Silence.)
(At Kagwe Market. Garbage piled nearby. Flies buzzing loudly. Dirty water flowing beside vegetables.)
Nyina wa Wanja: Move that cabbage away from the sewage water!
Woman from Kirenga: We should organize another cleaning day.
Gichuka Waithera: No.
(Silence.)
Crowd: No?
Gichuka Waithera: Yaah. Let the garbage stay.
(Shock.)
Tenant: Kiongozi… people will complain.
Gichuka Waithera: Good.
Woman from Kirenga: Children may get sick.
Gichuka Waithera: And maybe then the leaders will remember you exist. Lari leaders are awakened by chaos.
Youth Leader: But helping ourselves is unity.
Gichuka Waithera: No. It is soothing voters’ bitterness and helping leaders escape responsibility.
(Pause.)
Mzee Kihoto: The words fell heavily. Like rain on iron sheets.
Tenant: So what should we do? Leave roads muddy?
Gichuka Waithera: Yes.
Nyina wa Wanja: Leave sewers clogged?
Gichuka Waithera: Yes.
Woman from Kirenga: Allow garbage everywhere?
Gichuka Waithera: Yes…until embarrassment becomes louder than our silence. Until neglect becomes political. Until leadership failure can no longer hide behind your endurance.
(Long silence. Thunder rumbles in distance. Heavy rain begins again. Cars stuck. People trapped. Mud everywhere.)
Voice of The Rain: You covered potholes…but you covered leadership failure too.
Crowd: The road is gone! The bridge is flooded!
Young Boy: Where is the MCA?
(Silence.)
Mzee Kihoto: During campaigns, leaders arrive before sunrise. During floods…even their phones drown.
(Villagers gather slowly. No one working now. No shovels moving. No one volunteering. Only anger.)
Tenant: No more garbage contributions.
Nyina wa Wanja: No more carrying medical supplies to dispensaries.
Woman from Kirenga: No more buying stones for roads.
Youth Leader: Then what do we do?
Gichuka Waithera: We complain loudly. Publicly. Relentlessly.
Mzee Kihoto: For the first time…the people discovered that bitterness could also become political language.
(Campaign music suddenly heard in distance. A convoy approaches.)
Ward MCA (offstage): My people! My hardworking people!
(No cheers.)
Ward MCA: Why are the roads so bad?
Crowd: Because you are the leader.
(Silence.)
Buroga: Why is garbage everywhere?
Nyina wa Wanja: Because we stopped doing your job.
Ward MCA: Why didn’t you unclog the sewer?
Tenant: We already elected people for that.
(Long silence.)
Mzee Kihoto: And suddenly…the mud became political. The garbage became political. The smell became political.
Gichuka Waithera: Bitterness is dangerous only when it sleeps.
Woman from Kirenga: And dignity begins the day people stop normalizing neglect.
(The villagers stand silently beside the flooded road. No shovels. No wheelbarrows. No stones. Only silence.)
Young Boy: Will the road be repaired?
Mzee Kihoto: Eventually.
Young Boy: By who?
(Long silence.)
Crowd: By those elected to repair it.
(Thunder in distance.)
Mzee Kihoto: Lari people were never poor in strength. Only too hungry for handouts. And willing to do what the government is supposed to do.
(Curtain falls slowly. Silence. Then distant sounds of rain…and sinking tires.)
