Chief Mowing Grass

Over the past couple of days I have been thrust into Konko’s political epicentre. The mower has become a big deal and everyone wants to use it. The problem is, I am told by Rastaman, that the vast majority of the village are not fully versed in the rudiments of mowing, maintenance of a combustion engine and the associated dangers of a rotating blade. If given out willy-nilly five year old kids would be trying to cut their hair with it and drinking the petrol and so forth.
We have a problem, we all want the mower to help as much in the community but we also want it and people’s health maintained. After much deliberations involving the elders and chief a solution was put on the table. Rastaman would have full use of the mower to cut the football pitch. While if any other party would wish to use it, there must go through Bosay (an elder within the village) who would assess their claim. Their knowledge of mowing and an inspection of the terrain would be the main criteria to be judged.
This seems a reasonable solution, until the next morning when Rastaman spliced one of his fingers in half after putting his hand in the mower. It seems he was no better versed.