BLEEDING NATION: A Man's Worth in the Hands of Another

Chapter 1: Joe Mzalendo

“Joe Mzalendo. A name I got from my grandfather, customary to my commune. All I ever wanted was a good job after a degree from the University. I had scoured for quite some time without achievement. Most places, I could not meet the cut; despite my first class honors in Accounting and Finance.

Experience was the qualification sought most, and which, I was short of. As it were, mine country Credonia, was not among those that had experience as part of the school curriculum, or, any other for that matter.

Wondrously, I got a career I so much wished for and dreamt about, circadian. A senior accountant within the government. An event I categorized miraculous. Things never worked out akin to this in my country Credonia. Nothing was standing between my goals and me.

Such a position was hard to come by, expressly, to a fresh University graduate. I swore to make all that was erroneous, veracious; and, to help as many persons as I could. Indeed, my grandfather envisioned the future. Mine name, surely, was burgeoning in me”, the patriot spoke out loud.

A few years down the line, even so, happened another marvel. After several promotions, he found himself a Principal Secretary in the Finance Ministry. His dedication and hard work surely paid in full. Apart from his liking the job, he happened to have a thing for accounting and money matters.

He had financed himself with whatever ‘little’ he could save to further his education. Thereafter, he achieved a Master’s Degree in Finance and another Bachelor’s degree in Leadership and Development. It is true; a step up the education ladder does yield good fortunes. That is, with a proper channel of course, or, may be, and most certain, with enough ‘connections’.

His country; Credonia, is among those in the third-world caste. A country occupied by many sorts; toiling day in, day out, in search of their daily repast. The vast majority; living a life of spoon to mouth. Here, survival is no less than in the jungle. It is either, kill or be killed, literally speaking. Majority of the people in the country survive under a dollar a day. Some others dying of hunger with each sunrise; not to mention, those that fill the streets begging, with less than few to give.

A very harrowing situation that constrained his thoughts to doing everything he could to help fellow poor comrades. Crying for help occupies most of their days. The cries that those with dough and power chose to ignore and still do. It is not that his country had no elites, veto.

Dissimilar to the fact, their love for money along with fat accounts was beyond everything that had life. All they cared about was; keep their accounts on the rise no matter the cost. Several people dying of hunger and preponderance begging on the streets for fat accounts is their mission. This is what he wanted to see change. He was tired of people suffering and dying with each dawn and dusk.

Lucky for him, he had the position he was needing for. It was a very good opportunity for him to just make his country a better habitation for all in it and, those to come. He was on a mission to prove; eradication of poverty is no rocket science. For a number of years, that is what he thrived to do, and; he did do it very well, until, that one day. The epoch thereafter, he caught the attention of a demon; or, should it be, caught a buffalo by the tusks.

Little did he know, the more he did for his people, the more he was exposed and drew its attention. The higher you go, the cooler it becomes; the wise men said. Analogous, it is also true; the higher you go, the more you expose butt-cheek. He was not only attracted to noble people, but similarly, to those with depraved intentions.

He woke up to that which he thought to be the best news of his life, to the same extent; it had become a trend, to this day. On arrival to his office that morning, he found a missive on his desk. It was addressed to him from high up the chain. Apparently, the superior to his bosses had his attention caught by his drudgery.

These were not the demons as you might think, nix. This demon; so perilous, just seemed to be fond of their company. It was time for his reward, so he thought and said to himself as he read the letter. All he did was for the good of his compatriots; but he seemed to have forgotten one major thing. A King’s courtyard is no good place for a playing ground. What games, and King; you might wonder?

The letter read as follows:

Dear Mzalendo,

I take this opportunity to acknowledge and commend you for the good work you have done and are doing for this country. People like you; our Nation and I need, for this country to reach the dream we envisage.

The people of Credonia, fellow leaders and I, appreciate all this that you do. Through your hard work, we have seen how things should be done and who should do what better. It is for the reason that I, with the help of other committee members, recommend you for the seat of Credonia’s Cabinet Minister of Finance.

I am confident enough that the finances of Credonia are in good hands with you controlling the treasury. With the power vested in me, your acceptance of this offer and the will of God, I shall therefore pronounce you as my Cabinet Minister of Finance in the next five days.

Please confirm with my office as soon as you receive this letter.

Yours Candidly,

The President.