Nairobi was in a lot of debt.
This was due to years of financial mistakes. He was afflicted. He felt alone.
He remembered his friend Abuja and decided to visit her and ask for some assistance.
A soft loan would do! Hopefully, if Abuja has some to spare for charity, no interest.
His rent was due, his family in anguish, and debt collectors were on his neck.
Abuja was not rich.
A single mother, she practiced dairy farming.
A single cow, that’s all she had.
A single source of income to feed her dependents.
Nairobi walked into Abuja’s farm in the morning hours.
But he found she was not around. She had gone to the local dairy cooperative to sell her milk.
But Nairobi was desperate, and he became tempted.
Desperation blinded him, and he couldn’t clearly think of the consequences of what he was about to do.
He took the cow and went and sold it and cleared some of his debts.
Abuja, in the evening, walked back to her farm and did not hear the familiar Mouw that often greeted her.
She went to check and almost collapsed with grief when she did not find her dairy cow, her source of livelihood. She was facing starvation.
She sat on the ground, her hand on her head, sulked and wailed over her cow gone and never to be returned.
A thought struck her mind in this moment of grief, and she remembered she had a hidden cctv to check on her cow.
She checked, and lo, she was devastated to see her friend Nairobi whisking her Dairy cow away. She went and confronted him with the footage as evidence.
Nairobi, realizing that he has been caught, begged for mercy, there was no way he could bring back the cow. He had sold it and spent the proceeds of his crime to settle debts, still owed more.
Abuja on the other hand wanted justice, a single mother she was facing starvation, how will she feed her family, how can Nairobi be this cruel. Justice is all she wanted, restitution to be precise.
There was a standstill, there was no resolution.
Abuja decided to take the matter to the king, Kush, who was also the judge over his people.
The matter was serious because under the laws of the land, such a crime called for the death penalty.
Nairobi was summoned to the King’s court. At the heart of this solemn space, upon a dais raised three steps high, sat King Kush.
He sat with the immovable stillness of a mountain, his posture regal yet relaxed, hands resting lightly on the throne’s arms, each adorned with heavy gold rings bearing royal seals
To the King’s right, near the base of the dais, stood the complainant, Abuja. Her posture was tense, shoulders slightly hunched as if bracing against the weight of her grievance.
Beside her stood the prosecutor, Lucifer, the Kingdom’s appointed accuser. A leather-bound scroll containing the case details rested in the crook of his arm. His expression was ready to present the Crown’s case with precision.
Directly opposite, on the King’s left, stood the accused, Nairobi. He stood utterly alone in the cleared space before the dais. He had no counsel. He had no kin to stand with him — only the accusing eyes of the court and the weight of the King’s gaze.
Silence, thick and expectant, pressed down on the chamber. The King’s gaze swept slowly from Abuja to Lucifer, and finally settled, unblinking, on the solitary figure of Nairobi.
The adjudication was about to begin.
Abuja, the complainant, stepped forward half a pace, her voice trembling but clear.
“My Lord,” she began, bowing low, “My dairy, she was not merely livestock. She fed my children. She was my hope in lean season. Without her, my youngest coughs through the night with hunger. This man,” she gestured toward Nairobi, “took not just an animal, but the breath from my home. I do not ask restitution out of spite — but for justice. Let the law stand so others may not suffer as I have.”
Beside her, Lucifer, the prosecutor, unfurled his scroll with deliberate gravity. His voice, steady and resonant, filled the chamber like the beat of a war drum.
“Your Majesty,” he intoned, “this is no isolated lapse. Nairobi stands before you, a man long known in the kingdom for broken promises and mounting debts. He borrows with no intention of repaying and with no grasp of the consequences of his action, a rebellious soul, this thief…” He gestured toward Nairobi. “…This theft of A dairy cow is not desperation; it was a pattern. It was arrogance.”
The Codex of the kingdom is clear.
“Behold, the wages of him who sins is death…”
— Romans 6:23(New Testament), echoed in Alma 34:10 (Book of Mormon)
‘He who steals the cow of a widow in time of famine, knowing her need, forfeits his own life to restore balance.’ Lucifer continued. “Mercy here would not be kindness; it would be weakness. It would erode the very foundation of law; the law must be fulfilled.”
A murmur rippled through the gathered courtiersAll eyes turned to Nairobi, still standing alone, swaying slightly as if struck.
Then, he fell to his knees.
“My Lord, My Lord!” he cried, voice cracking. “I am not proud. I am ashamed. But I stole the cow… because my debts and family lay dying of hunger, and the market demands payment, I had nothing. Not even copper dust. I thought… I thought.” He lifted tear-streaked eyes to the King. “I beg you, my lord, do not let my crime orphan my young family. They have no one else. Take my hand, my land, my freedom… but not my life. I will work the fields to repay her.”
The King’s face remained a mask of stone, he was in a dilemma.
He has a reputation as being a merciful and just king, but today he was in a dilemma: how can he give one without denying the other?
He knew the Codex. He knew the law demanded death for such a grievous sin of stealing livestock from a widow during famine.
He looked at Abuja, her eyes were dry now, but her jaw was clenched, torn between grief and the echo of her own children’s cries.
He looked at Lucifer, whose stern expression betrayed his duty, unwavering fidelity to order.
He then looked at Nairobi, kneeling in the dust, not as a thief, but as a son, … a flawed man caught between survival and sin.
Addis, the prince, Kush’s firstborn son, was moved and approached the king’s court. He proposed an out-of-court settlement, like negotiation, conciliation, mediation, and arbitration, to settle the dispute.
Lucifer objected, crying out for justice, seems like he had a personal vendetta against the accused and demanded justice and denied any opportunity for mercy. He stood for justice
Addis offered mediation as the most appropriate conflict resolution mechanism.
Why mediation and not the other conflict resolution methods?
Well, in mediation, a neutral third-party mediator facilitates discussion, helping parties find their own creative, mutually agreeable solutions; outcomes are non-binding unless agreed upon.
Mediation upheld everyone’s agency; parties are free to decide if the decision is binding or not. It has to be agreed upon, no compulsion.
This pleased the king, because the king was in a dilemma and wanted everyone to win. Addis offered a sacrifice; he will buy Abuja another dairy cow to fulfill her demand for justice (restitution), and Nairobi should be forgiven to fulfill his plea for mercy.
Deep down , this was the king’s will and he accepted it. Lucifer, the prosecutor was not happy with this.
He conspired.
He reminded the court that Nairobi will always be a thief and unworthy to live in the kingdom and should be cast out,
He exclaimed, Mercy makes the king weak.
Kindness is a weakness, and people will take advantage of the court. If it was upto him, he would met strict justice and not a single soul would be lost in sin for fear of the consequences.
the king was moved , the court had it justice, he reminded the prosecutor of the same. Abuja was happy.
Nairobi was overwhelmed , with joy, he felt unwothy of the prince love , he became his friend.
Addis walked hime home , and reminded him not to get in trouble.
But Nairobi’s problem was not over, he still had debt.
So, he sought to go to the king, who owned all the land.
During his plea for mercy, he was willing to work the fields to repay his debt. However, he already had a soiled reputation before the King’s court; he was known as a thief despite the pardon he got.
Then he remembered his friend, Adiss, the prince of the kingdom, he approached him, and told him of his plans to clear his debt and be in good standing with the kingdom
Addis gladly took him to his father, the king.
The king listened to Nairobi’s plan because of Addis.
The king gave him land to till, but he had to bring 10% of his increase to the kingdom.
It was not a tax but a test that he had changed and was willing to keep the commandment of the kingdom. The king promised more goodies if he proved himself with this simple test.