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Cleaning time!

Somehow we got a good deal. The maker was in a good mood he made us, our country. The lush of greenery, the evergreen trees, the stable tectonic plates, the absence of major catastrophes, the strategic location was our selling point. Our quaint lazy ambience with rich natural resources must have earned our nickname comparing it to a golden land.
Ah, people were always lousy...
But there was a world, once.

This same trait must have been the pulling factor that drew unsavoury visitors who wanted all for themselves. The early settlers, with no malice on their mind, ushered them in with open arms, typical of how they would honour their weary guests as described by most of the holy scriptures that they knew.

The conniving guests, with evil exuding through their eyes and souls plot devious mischiefs to create pandemonium just to appear of as peacemaker at the same time. The host started fragmenting. The guests suddenly appeared more composed, more cultured and wiser. With their master wrangling and wringing of the truth, they turned the tables. The visitors became the masters and the hosts were at their mercy.

A wave of resurgence swept their world like a tsunami, shaking the foundation of administration. Awoken from a slumber, the subjects rose to the occasion via the same knowledge that the, now colonial masters had advocated for their own convenience. 
The natives became masters. The scurrying masters left behind a solid foundation complete the pillars of execution, legislation and administration protocols. The scholarly template and medical web network that they left behind was the envy of its neighbours. Blessed with industrious thrifty citizens who were gung-ho to catch up with lost times, the country went all steam ahead. They were going places, reaching dizzying heights. What used to be a void space between the 'Elephant kingdom' and the 'Lion kingdom' suddenly surfaced on atlases.

The designated leaders encouraged simpleton followers of the new dream to squeeze the throttle. Self-glorification elevated them higher and higher. Nothing seems impossible. As the lab rats reach near exhaustion, emaciation and anaerobic ketoacidosis, the subjects realised that their tokens have shrunken. The treadmill seems steeper, their speed faster with shrinking results.

News squiggled of certain discrepancies in calibration. Lab rats are no scientists but they knew where it hurt. They could not stomach the nonsensical computations that their caretakers were selling. The favourite snack / token that they had died for all these while was no cheese but hold behold soylent green!
"Enough is enough, this time we change!" they said. They raised their hoes and sickles and don their favourite yellow attire to parade and show their solidarity to clean the laboratory, kitchen sink, drain the bathtub with  the baby and all.
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