The Ruin Of A Great House

When the brutal tyrant fled in terror to parts unknown, he left behind a great house, splendid orchards and fields and even treasures beneath the rich soil.

Oh, you bet there was rejoicing in the streets. Ale overflowing in taverns. Neighbour shouting to neighbour. Singing, dancing. All was splendour and joy unbounded.

And the speeches were grand as the  ballads of the poets.

"No more shall the sound of weeping be heard in this our land. No more the terror of the hand raised to strike or the knife to wound. Every man and woman shall have peace and joy at their labours and in their homes. The young child and the aged  shall know peace and be cherished. This place of rivers, mountains and green fields shall be an inheritance for generations to come. And this great house. We shall rule with wisdom. Justice and compassion will be our guides. This is our pledge."

Then, a rainbow in the sky and many took it for a sign.

From the east and the north came many, fleeing from tyranny and every misery that the curse of evil rulers brought in the lands 'east of Eden'. And the stewards of the land welcomed them, saying:

"This is a large land and you shall live and labour with us in peace."

But there came also thieves, murderers and vagabonds of every sort. Seeking to hide themselves among the people, they took new names and wives. And many a Lerato Ndlovu sauntered through the land, doing whatsoever their hearts desired. But the stewards, stars in their eyes,  paid little heed, 

Slowly, ever so slowly, came the ruin of the great house, the orchards and the fields. Even as a frog is boiled. The fruit trees were hewn down for firewood. Smoke and ash swirled over the cornfields. In the house, where the stewards sat at gallons of wine, mounds of KFC and power drinks from spaza merchants, the young people and the guests, invited and uninvited,  did as they pleased. Forgotten the grand speeches and the fine promises. Gone the fine linens and the precious things.  And out of cracks and holes crawled the vermin. Slowly at first, feelers and whiskers testing the dank air. Then boldly, fat, insolent and swaggering. Still the stewards ate, drank, quarrelled and mused upon moonbeams. Forgotten were the young child and the aged, walking in fear, dread and hunger. And of the inheritance for generations to come, was spoken not a word. 

Appeals to decency and compassion fell upon ears clogged with the fat of the land. Indeed, the persons of the stewards shone so with fat, that people crossed the streets and shielded their eyes for fear of being blinded.

And as the house stank of decay and urine in corners, the vermin sat at meat like masters of the dwelling. And the stewards quarrelled over bedrooms and the last KFC drumstick. And in the house were found dead men's bones, some said to have done themselves mischief, having many knife wounds about their backs.

Then those who cared for the great house and the lands made an alliance. But, all too soon, they fell to quarreling over every inconsequential thing that the mind of man can devise. And they, too, became as of no consequence.

In the house, the vermin scurried to and fro, rats with bulging eyes and cheeks, and other loathsome creatures.  And the stewards lay supine, sated with food and drink, dreaming of great cities and castles in the skies.

Then some inquired of wise men:  "What is to be done?"

"Five years",  they replied. "To rebuild. To cleanse every nook and cranny of vermin. And those within must seek other lodging. For as long as they remain, so long continues the decay."

But the people knew that, until the last leaf withered on the fruit tree, until the last brick crumbled into dust, until the last ear of corn was blasted, the stewards would stand fast. For that is the curse of gluttony and greed. The raging thirst for power drinks. The curse of this great, dark continent.

This the wise counsellors saw. And they could but recall the words of the book:

"And great was the fall of that house".

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