The Mud-House
The Mud-House
Malcolm’s POV…
So, we arrived at the mudhouse. It was just a few miles away from the company’s location. We took the team bus. It was a smooth ride, but now the real fun was about to begin. While we walked in, I addressed the journalists once more.
“This is where our company produces power without having to harness it from a renewable source. We drill into the ground, mining coal from the depths of the earth, and in return, there are tons of smoke emissions, adding to the growing problem affecting the world’s economy today—Climate Change.”
The reporter from Inside Edition raised his hand while we walked, and he spoke, “Our network has reported on this before. If you know this is true, then why haven’t you shut down this… mudhouse of yours, and build more greenhouses, like the one you have at the Hudson? Is it because this method is faster and more lucrative?”
I focused my gaze on him. “Graham, right?”
“Yes, Mr Balogun,” he answered.
“Let me ask you this,” I turned the corner and we made it through the gate, “How many of these coal mining sites does Balogun Incorporated own? If you know the numbers, I’d like you to please tell me.”
“I’m not sure,” he gestured.
“The answer is three. One for each of our branches. Now, do you know how many of these same sites other conglomerates as big as ours own? Dangote has twenty sites. MAN has over thirty worldwide. Not to mention the sets in Eastern Asia that run on nothing but coal, burning thousands and thousands of ounces every single day.”
I kept walking fast and they struggled to keep up. Into the mudhouse we went, and as soon as they got in, they saw the state of the place. They saw the men working there and how rigorous the job was. How much strain it took. How much effort they were putting in. How hard they were working.
“Despite my company being the only one in its class that has not even up to five coal mining bases, we get the most scrutiny when it comes to the accusation of elitist capitalism. Profiting off the backs of the working-class man. Meanwhile the real story is hidden behind the camera and off the papers.”
“And what is the real story? That you’re not a part of the problem?” Samantha, the reporter from Fox News asked.
“No, Samantha. We’re definitely not part of the problem. In fact, we are the solution. And that is what the China Expansion Project is all about…”
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Cherilyn’s POV…
Julie was quite the tour guide. She would take us to a spot, tell us all about it and leave us to ourselves until we were ready to move on. After a few minutes of browsing around the immaculate space, I knew for a fact now that Michaela’s company was up there with the best of them. I mean, this place was huge and it was all hers.
She took us to the balcony next, telling us a story about when it was first made and how two workers nearly died when they were hanging up the logo right below it. It was incredible…and the wind was amazing. I felt that wind touch me, and it was like I didn’t want to ever leave this spot. I felt at peace within my spirit, but when I turned and looked at Kendra… I could see very clearly that she wasn’t feeling the same peace I was.
I could already guess what it was about. It certainly wasn’t about her. It was about me. About Michaela.
“Let me guess! You have a strange vibe around her…”
Kendra turned to me and shook her head. “So you can feel it too?”
I chuckled, “I felt it right from the first day I was in the same room as her.”
“Are you really going through with this whole thing about the three of you getting married? I mean, I thought it could work, but now that I’ve met her, I don’t know…”
I walked over to her and took her hands in mine. “Oh, Ken doll. There’s so much about this whole thing that I can’t even start to try to explain to you, but I want you to know that within this whole web of craziness, Michaela is not the spider. She’s just an innocent fly that got caught, same as me. But, we’re not trapped. There is a way out.”
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Zara’s POV…
My shoes already had mud all over their soles. Since we got closer into the space, the earth became more tender…and a lot wetter. Carts and trucks would move around with timber and other materials to burn, and their tires would splash little droplets of dirt onto us, already getting on our clothes. It was happening to Malcolm, as well as his assistant, but they didn’t seem bothered by it. The CEO was back in the waiting area, and it was just us and the President.
He continued speaking. “Right now, these Mudhouse provide steady jobs and income for our working-class employees. And the fact that we don’t have many of these houses help in reducing the world’s carbon footprint, aiding the fight against climate change. Our employees get paid five times better than the workers doing the same exact job in other conglomerates. And those ones have more bases. It’s daylight robbery. Completely unethical, and your networks shine their self-righteous spotlight on just us.”
He exhaled and came closer. “The plan is simple. Of all our branches, only the China branch will operate entirely on renewable power. That is going to revolutionize the structure of our company, and in about a decade or less, we will transmit all that revenue and power, and run all our branches solely on renewable energy. Starting with the New York branch, working our way into Lagos, and then Malaysia.”
It was a great vision, but the corruption still festered. Maybe not in this sector of his company, but certainly within the ones that took place in air-conditioned offices and not hot-aired mud factories. I turned to him. “So, you erase your record of poisoning the earth. But what about the bribes your company sent to the Chinese government to afford the funds and land allocation for a multi-billion dollar project that will profit such a powerful nation like theirs? How was that money raised and which pockets did it enter?”
He brought me out here to fight in the mud, right? Well, let’s fight!