Destroyers - Dave Mckay (classic literature list .TXT) 📗

here to throw it away." He pointed to half-finished iced tea glasses being cleared away by a waitress. "Why do Americans not grow their own tea?"

Ray was impressed. He had been told that Moses was only sixteen years old (although the boy was really much younger, and the bank in Kenya had lied about his age). Nevertheless, for his age, whatever it might be, Moses' grasp of economics was amazing.

"I guess we are just too greedy," Ray admitted. "Maybe that is why we invest in micro-banks, so we can make up for what we have taken." He smiled humbly.

"But with your micro-bank, you take more money from us. How will that help?"

They were back to that sore point again.

"With your bicycle, you will be able to make money... much more than what you gave to us for the loan," Ray explained. "Isn't that true?"

"But even if I make very much money, me, I can only buy maize from other Kenyans. In all of Kenya, it will not give us more maize. If there is not enough food, then all the money I can make will not stop some other Kenyan from being hungry. We need more food, Mr. Ray, and not more money."

"You know, Moses, I never did think of it like that," Ray admitted. The boy had opened his eyes; surely, the only way to overcome hunger was to send food, or just to stop using so much of the world's land to grow non-essentials like tea, coffee, and tobacco for the West.

"Do you think I can get your address?" Ray asked. "I would like to keep in touch with you when you go back to Kenya."

"Sure," Moses said, and he scribbled his name and

address on a napkin: Moses Chikati, Shinyalu Post Office, Western Kenya. "Can you send me stamps?"

"You mean used stamps?"

"Yes, from America. Can you send some? I can give them to my friend, Winky." Moses knew a little shop in Kakamega that would buy the stamps, and it was customary to ask foreigners for stamps as a form of donation.

"I travel a lot, so I can send you stamps from other countries too. How would you like that?"

Moses barely had time to express his pleasure at the suggestion when the master of ceremonies tapped on the microphone and started the evening's business.

There were boring speeches about the work of the micro-bank, and a report to the shareholders, and then they showed the three videos that had been made about Moses and the other two customers of the micro-bank.

Shanti was from India, and she had used a single sewing machine (operated in shifts, around the clock by women from her village) to develop a dress-making business that was now exporting to exclusive American shops. Rapalo was from Fiji, and he had invented a simple solar cooker that promised to save significantly on fuel consumption in his own country, and maybe in others as well. Then there was Moses. He felt insignificant, given that the others had already achieved success in their fields... successes that had an impact far beyond their own village and even beyond their own country. Moses was just a humble teenage boda-boda driver, who had only finished repaying his debt one month ago.

The world president of the bank then gave a speech. He said how impressed he was by Shanti's ability to organise and motivate women in her community, and also by the high quality of the work they produced... quality which had attracted the attention of dress shops in America. He went on to say that Rapalo's invention, while still in its early marketing stages, was one that could have a great impact on the world, at a time when fuel consumption was at the forefront of everyone's minds.

And finally he came to Moses.

"When I think of what it is that our bank does most consistently and most effectively," he said, "I think that it gives simple, hard-working people a chance to survive, in a world where circumstances are often stacked against them. Moses Chikati has not only been caring for himself and his younger sister while paying off his loan, but he has paid the loan back in half the time that the bank had allowed. His hard work, thrift, and cheerful nature are sure to take him far. I am pleased to announce that Moses Chikati will feature as this year's symbol of what our bank stands for: good people helping themselves.Moses, can you come forward to receive your certificate!"

It was still sinking in that he had actually won the competition when Ray reached over to shake Moses' left hand. "Good work, Moses! You did it; and remember, you helped pay for all of this! Go get your prize."

Moses left his seat and walked toward the back of the head table, where he extended the stump of his right forearm in response to the president's extended right hand. Then he lifted slightly on his toes to face the mike.

"Me, I want just to thank the people who paid to bring us here and feed us and show us around at this big celebration. Two of them are here tonight: Thank you, Ms Shanti, and thank you Mr. Rapalo. You see, when we paid our money back to the bank, even we gave a little extra, and my friend Ray, he was telling me that we are helping him and his friends by giving them a little more than they gave to us. I know I did not give enough to pay for what I have received at this thing here tonight, but multitudes of people like Shanti and Rapalo, from many countries, give a little each, and already this is what we made." He swung his good arm in a proud semicircle in front of himself.

"We did good, didn't we?" And he finished with a huge grin, as the audience laughed and clapped in response.

Then the bank president returned to the microphone.

"I almost forgot," he said.

"The board had a special meeting this afternoon, and we heard that Moses wanted to buy a scanner phone, so that he can become the first boda-boda driver in Kenya to introduce scanning. Moses, we have decided to give you this phone as part of your prize. You are quite right, that we are only giving back to you and all of our other customers around the world, something that you collectively paid for yourselves.

"Use it with our best wishes!" And he reached out to shake Moses' hand a second time, this time remembering to extend his left hand.

 

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Chapter 9 Relations with Amy

Chapter 9. Relations with Amy

"Oh, Moses, no, no! What have I done?" Amy covered her face with her hands, and bowed her head in anguish, as Moses looked on in confusion. He had just been showing her his new scanner phone.

"What do you mean, Amy? What did I do wrong?"

Amy peeked out from behind her fingers, and then dropped her hands altogether.

"God forgive me. I never told you, Moses. Those microchips... They're evil!"

Moses had never heard Amy talk like this before, and he was shocked. "What do you mean evil? They're just microchips."

"The Bible says so," Amy began.

"The Bible?" Moses almost shouted, knowing instinctively that it wasn't just the Bible that Amy was referring to. This had Josephat written all over it. "Microchipsweren't even existed in Bible times, Winky! You been talking to Josephat, haven't you?" he asked.

"Moses, even in my church back in Australia, they talked about the microchip. We didn't call it like that then, but we knew something was coming... something people could use to buy and sell. It's called the Mark in the Bible... the Mark of the devil."

Moses was deeply offended; but he just sighed and waited for Amy to finish.

"The Bible says anyone who gets the Mark will be punished real bad by God, Moses. It says his wrath will be on them. Do you want that, son?"

Amy reached for a Bible and started to look up the passage that she was referring to. As she did, Moses launched into his defence.

"Winky, I'm not getting a microchip. I'm just using the phone for people who already have it. Do you think God is going to punish me for that?"

"Here it is," said Amy, ignoring his question.

"He causes everybody, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their forehead... That's the devil, Moses, or at least the son of the devil. It's the Antichrist who does that!"

"You're not listening, Winky. I don't have the mark. I got no right arm, see!" And he held up his stump.

"Yeah, true. I can see that," Amy said, sounding perplexed as she glanced down at the Bible. She blinked a few times and then she pleaded, "Well... promise me

you won't ever get it."

"Winky, how can I? I got no right arm."

Moses knew secretly that he had not promised her anything. The passage said something about a mark on the forehead. If it happened that there was a microchip for the forehead, he would be less worried about getting it than he would be about telling a lie to Winky. Because he technically hadn't promised, he still felt that he had left his options open.

It's all Josephat's fault, he thought to himself, secretly hating the man who had come between him and his best friend, Winky.

To everyone else, Moses was already a celebrity... not because of the posters and TV ads that would soon be shown around the world (People in the village had no idea about that yet.) but just because he had been overseas. He had been to America.

So why couldn't Amy show a little more respect too? Moses had only arrived back in Shinyalu the day before, and he hadn't yet returned to work. When he did, the following day, he was the center of attention; business had never been better. Most locals still didn't have the microchip, but those who did went straight to him as soon as they learned that he had a scanner. It was just as well that he had shared customers with the other boda-boda drivers previously, because he was clearly taking business from them now. And it continued that way for a long time after. Amy made a few attempts to broach the topic of the scanner, but Moses just smiled and assured her that he had heard what she was saying, and that he was thinking about it... which he wasn't really. Ray had asked the bank for the cell phone number, and then called Moses two days after he got back. The subject of the new cell phone came up, and Moses complained... but only a little... about Amy's attitude. Ray was sympathetic. He supported Moses in making his own decision, but coached him on being tactful about it too. Moses liked having a male to turn to and SMS's became a regular thing between the two of them after that.

Then, a few weeks later, Amy said she wanted to "talk" with him. He had stopped reportng to her, now that the loan was repaid, and he had his own bank account. But he had developed good habits, and he and Rosy were quickly saving up money to start construction on a real house... one with brick walls and an iron roof.

When Amy first mentioned a "talk", Moses tensed up, thinking that he was going to be in trouble for something. But that soon changed.

"I need your help," she began, and Moses looked surprised.

"You need my help?" he asked, pointing at himself with his good left hand.

"We got problems here with the children, son. Some of the people who give to help us have stopped giving. It happens with most missionaries over time; people move away, die, or just forget about what's happening way over here. So they have to go home from time to time... to get new supporters.

"But I got no one to mind the children if I leave. I'm not part of a proper church; it's just me and the kids."

Moses was wondering what all of this had to do with him. Was she asking him to give her the