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A Man And His Price – Season 1 Episode 4

Muia took the indicated seat, setting the big,
black suitcase he carried on the ground. He
waited until Njenga took his seat across him,
watching his every move like a veteran poker
player scrutinizing his opponent for the
slightest tic, the tiniest twitch – the tell that
would reveal just how strong his hand really
was.
“I will come straight to the point, Reverend
Njenga,” Muia said briskly. He put his elbows
on the desk and touched his fingertips
together.
“I believe that we can come to an
understanding.”
Njenga just sat, fingers intertwined supporting
his chin, listening to Muia’s every word.
“I believe,” Muia continued, “that you and I
can find a common ground. I believe that we
have a similar vision for this country.”
A shadow came over Njenga’s face – a frown
of agitation, of irritation. Muia’s sharp eyes
did not miss it, although it had passed in a
second.
“You disagree?” he asked. “Just hear me out,
and, I assure you, by the end of our meeting
you will think so too.”
Njenga smiled, and motioned for Muia to
continue.
Suddenly Muia jumped to his feet. The sudden
movement startled Njenga; reflexively his hand
moved towards the second drawer where he
kept a loaded pistol – but Muia was doing no
more than pacing around the room, hands
gesticulating, speaking passionately –
seemingly, to himself ¬– like a character’s
soliloquy in a play.
“Our country is drowning, Reverend; we don’t
need the U.N or the international community
to tell us that. Drowning in a sea of
corruption, of anarchy, of violence….drowning,
Reverend, in a sea of blood…and whose blood
than our brothers’, our sisters’, our cousins’,
our own?
“Our people are crying out…our people are
groaning ¬– from their mouths and their
stomachs – they are crying out for a saviour…
I will answer that cry.
“We must do something! We cannot just sit
back and watch our country burn! We cannot
let our people die- everyday they are dying in
their hundreds; from violence, from disease,
from hunger…this must end.”
He sat back down, the fire still in his eyes, his
nostrils flared, his breathing deep and quick.
“On this one point we are of the same mind,”
he continued; “this must end. And we will end
it, you and I.”

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