Secret Layers

Tag: Focus

  • The Principal And The Eggs

    Niss and the First Egg

    “Maaa! Come and see this!”
    Her daughter’s voice rang from the chicken house, urgent and excited.

    Niss sprang to her feet, heart racing, and nearly flew across the compound. She slipped into her gumboots, tugged on her overalls and gloves, dipped her feet in the disinfectant bath, and stormed inside.

    “An egg!” her daughter cried.

    For a moment, time froze. Niss’s heart swelled, her smile trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. This was the 19th week—the week she had been waiting for.

    “Here’s another one! And another!” her daughter shouted, unaware that her mother’s heart had already burst open, streams of joy gushing out.

    It felt like a miracle.

    From Joy To Worry

    But that was two weeks ago.

    Now, Niss stood in her storehouse, staring at 80 trays stacked neatly in rows. By the end of the week, she would cross 100.

    Her joy had turned into unease.

    Who is going to buy all these eggs?
    What if they go bad?
    What if they all break right here in the store?
    Who buys month-old eggs anyway?

    The questions gnawed at her.

    Doors Slammed Shut

    She tried everything.

    Her first stop was the local high school, where she pitched her eggs with hope in her voice. But the headmaster, a not-so-distant neighbor, turned her away.

    “We already have a supplier under contract. I can’t change that without the board’s approval,” he said.

    Board? What board? Niss thought bitterly. What board would choose rules over supporting a struggling local farmer? Deep inside, she suspected jealousy. Maybe he just wanted to see her fail.

    Still, she pushed on.

    She carried her eggs to the marketplace, setting them out for buyers. But not a single customer came near. The only tray she sold was to a wealthy-looking man who, she suspected, bought out of pity rather than need.

    Her stomach sank. This was not what she signed up for.

    She thought of the stories she had read of young millionaire farmers smiling beside heaps of eggs. Where did they sell? To whom? And what magic words did they use? No one had the answer.

    One Last Try

    That night, she added six more trays to her growing mountain and lay in bed, disappointment pressing down on her. Yet somewhere inside, a stubborn spark flickered. She decided to try one last move.

    There was a new private high school in the neighboring village, barely a year old. Maybe, just maybe, they would listen.

    The Breakthrough

    At dawn, Niss was at the principal’s office, waiting an hour for him to arrive.

    When he finally sat down, she took a deep breath and launched into her pitch:

    “My eggs are fresh and good. Your students will love them. They’ll grow strong, think sharper, and perform better. And by buying from me, you’ll be supporting a local farmer.”

    The Principal And The Eggs

    The principal and the eggs.

    The principal leaned back, studied her, leaned forward, then nodded.
    “Go bring all your eggs right now,” he said. “And make sure you can supply us every week.”

    Niss blinked, hardly believing it. Was it her words that convinced him? Or was he simply in urgent need of eggs? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that, at last, her eggs would leave the storeroom.

    Bigger Than She Dreamed

    That morning, Niss had woken up poor. By 9 a.m., she was holding nearly Ksh. 40,000 and, more importantly, a guaranteed weekly buyer.

    Unbelievable.

    She whispered to herself:

    It’s going to be harder than you think, harder than you plan for. But when the breakthrough comes, the reward will be bigger than anything you can imagine.

    She smiled faintly. She had heard those words somewhere before, maybe on Facebook. But now, they weren’t just words. They were her truth.

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  • THE ROSEMARY-FED CHICKEN

    Out Of The Cell

    Niss walked out of the police station feeling angry, guilty, and embarrassed.

    Grrrr. Her stomach rumbled. Hunger joined the list of things gnawing at her.

    The Cafe That Took Everything

    It was a long way home, so she slipped into a small café and ordered quickly. It had been ages since she last ate in a restaurant, and the thought itself felt strange. After what seemed like hours to the waiter, she finally settled on ugali skuma. The plate hit her table in five minutes, and by the seventh it was gone.

    She stared at the empty plate, stunned. That small food for seventy shillings? Rage burned hotter. This president will kill us all.

    Fumbling through her leso for coins, she came up empty. That’s when a man who had been watching her closely stood, paid her bill without a word, and left her more embarrassed than grateful.

    The Stranger With Promises

    She walked home, bracing herself for her children. She hadn’t seen them since yesterday, when she had left with her colleagues to riot against the merchants.

    But the riot hadn’t started there.

    It had started a few weeks back, in her own compound. She was seated with her kids one evening when a young man appeared. He looked sharp—probably a gym type, shoulders squared, the kind who seemed to know exactly what he was doing in life. Definitely not like my husband when he was young, she thought.

    He introduced himself as part of an NGO empowering women. His words dripped with promise. Twenty minutes later, he walked away with a KSh 20,000 commitment from her, paid in three installments. In her hands he left a bundle of seedlings. Rosemary.

    A Marvelous Scam

    Plant them, he said. In a month, they’d mature. His NGO would come for them and pay KSh 60,000. A three-times return. Marvelous, wasn’t it?

    True enough, the rosemary grew and matured right on time. But on the promised harvest day, no one came. One week passed. Two. Three. Nothing.

    The man had vanished. The NGO had never existed. And her money—gone.

    Chicken Don’t Wait

    That was the money Niss had set aside for her first batch of layers. Her chicks were now four weeks old. In another four, they would need growers mash. She thought she could “invest” the feed money, flip it fast, and come out with plenty. But the plan crumbled.

    Desperation turned to fury. She joined neighbors—victims of the same scam—and they stormed the streets, shouting, demanding answers. That night, they slept in a police cell.

    The Lesson In The Dark

    Sitting on the cold floor, Niss finally admitted the truth: it was her fault.

    She had ignored the one principle she’d read before: Go deep first, then go wide. The Secret Layers guide had always said it. Focus on one venture. Master it before chasing others. But she wanted shortcuts. Easy money. And now her birds were hungry.

    Rosemary Fed Chicken

    That afternoon, walking back toward her house, the lesson burned in her mind.

    Well, she thought, glancing at the stack of rosemary in the corner of her yard, at least I still have this. Is it edible? Maybe. But what if—

    Her lips curled into a sly smile.

    Rosemary-fed chickens. Eggs with a twist. Maybe people will pay for that. Maybe this is how I begin again.

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