Here are two shots of one beehive. It conjures up the bad memories
that ended my 2012. I did not sustain any stings however – (In case you are beginning to think along those lines!) – it was a different kind of a ‘sting’. It was
more of a sting in my wallet than on my flesh.
Here’s what happened.
I entered into an agreement with a neighbor for the supply
of a beehive. All sweet-talk and juicy promises crowned our discussion and,
duly convinced on the worth of the project, I honored my side of the bargain
with the payment of the full amount of the beehive price. I had played my ball
and it was now Ndoro’s (the neighbor) turn. That was on the evening of the last
Thursday of last year, 2012.
My new year was ushered in with this pending ‘con-man’ case
to deal with. And I started working towards getting hold of him. If by any chance I happen to find out that he
misappropriated the money, he will be forced to surrender to me one of his two
beehives (see it in photo). At least he told me they belonged to him- and somehow I believed him. I believed him because as I walked with him in the village paths on
that day we sealed the deal, he answered to quite a number of requests for honey
from people he told me were his previous clients.
