Wee! The Voters.
‘Kura yako, sauti yako
Choose your own leader through your vote’
This was the banging echo
That brought us out of these village houses
For I remember that fateful day like it was a song half sunged.
The sun was hot
Dust stubborn on how feet like plastered glue
And my hope, hanging by a thread called “next time.”
For I thought that voting was for the old
The ones who still believe politicians do change lives
But that morning
I understood the essence of registering to this database
For the teachings I heard
Was mind moving
And a true force for my generation
For they were teaching about voter registration at the chief’s camp.
Then the lines were formed
Longer than the sermons we hear every election season
Faces tired from exhaustion
But ready to endure for the course ahead
With determination from the youths my age
Clutching IDs like they were tickets to a better KENYA
Coz they truly were.
Then the click happened
Coz something in me paused
Thinking of all the complaints I posted online
Hashtagging problems with no solutions
Talking of corrupt politicians
Yet I had my ticket in hand
To right a percentage of these wrongs
To provide a solution like…
Youths unemployed
And on ‘how the country is finished’
Yet I had never registered to vote
With other millions youths like me
Making part of the loudest ghosts
Present in anger, but absent in action.
So I made a decision
One step at a time
Then took another
With the sun burning up high
But a thought for change
Cooling up our doubtful minds.
Mama baby infront of me
Saying she was registering “for her baby”
With mzee behind me whispering…
“Wewe kijana, hii ndio silaha yako, si pang’ang’a, si maneno tupu, NI KURA YAKO”.
With these words strucking my tired heart like a gospel of sweet hymns.
And when my turn came
The IEBC officer who was the VAR
Looked up and smiled, ” First time, yeah?”
And I nodded reciprocating her warm gesture
As she handed me a form
A simple paper in hand
Yet with heavy history.
Then I realised as I wrote my name
That this was more than ink
Coz it was a declaration, a binding one
That I do exist, I Matter and I refuse to watch from the sidelines
While others decide my tomorrow.
And when they stamped my card with my regional details on it
I felt like I had just signed a promise
Not to the political reign but to myself
Because being a VOTER is not about shouting change
But about showing up
Casting my vote while counting myself
Before someone else counts me out.
And when people complain
I keenly listen
But ask, ” Uliandika Kura?”
Coz power doesn’t sit in state house
It starts at that desk
Under the IEBC tent
Where names meet responsibilities.
LOUREEN ALMA
Changing the mindset
