Elections are over. Moving on, nervously.

Elections are over. Moving on, nervously.

150 150 Al Kags

This blog has been silent this past few weeks. And in that time, I have been more than a little listless, I couldn’t get to work for hours at a time because I was distractedly spending much of my time on social media, where I was scanning for the latest developments and news.

What has who said about what? I diarised the presidential debates and admonished everyone – even my 1 year old son – that death (or at least the gnashing of teeth) would befall anyone who distracted me from the debates. I groaned when Paul Muite went to court to stop the debates until he and Dida were thankfully included. I smiled when they appeared. I listened with chagrin to the vice-presidential debates and marveled at the insincerity I was hearing.

Then I queued for a couple of hours and voted and drove around Nairobi checking how things were going. For three days after the election, I did little else but keep my eyes glued to the TV, Radio, Facebook and Twitter. Then I saw the numbers eventually make out the story that Uhuru Kenyatta has won. I watched the TV as jubilation hit parts of the country. It is the year of Jubilee.

And Raila spoke and the other side was heard – the side that was drowned out by calls of peace. Massive irregularities they said. Gasp. My breath caught. “We shall go to court.” I exhaled. Judge Willy Mutunga has everyone’s trust. But we have to wait.

Rapt, I watched the proceedings and learnt new words, both english and latin. Amicus curiae. Preponderence of evidence. Suo moto. It was like watching boston legal only more seriously.

Oraro spoke. Kethi Kilonzo spoke. Massive irregularities, they said. Flawed system. I was sure Mutunga was sending us to a run-off. Dammit, my business, Goode, cannot afford a run-off! We have barely worked this year and the overheads are the same! Dammit, people!

Then Ahmednassir spoke. Njoroge Regeru spoke. Kigen spoke. Ngatia spoke. “Free and fair” observers said. Come on…! Technology breaks down all the time, surely – have you ever tried to make an important power point presentation? The numbers are right, leave these conspiracy theories. And then Ngatia spoke for me. “We cant afford to go on with this issue.” The judges rule. Free and fair and within the law. Get on with it. “Its Uhuru,” the newspaper exclaimed.

Get on with it. Then a man wailed on TV. Other than him, the countries gears shifted. Time to go back to work. Lets have business as usual.

But some of us are angry. We wont talk about it. We all seem to agree on everything. There’s mass consensus that us more like vaseline over everyone’s brain. Lets move on.

Gathara says something uncomfortable. Then Rasna’s obituary of Wanjiku. Concerned Kenyan Writers mumble quietly in their space.

“Peace first, truth later. There’ll be time enough for that.”

We are moving on and the political season is over. The governors have got down to work: “We must fly the flag on our cars!” The MPs have picked a national issue of grave importance: “How are we expected to live fruitfully with a mere pittance of Kshs. 500,000?” they want to know.

I’m getting back to work. One thing though: why am I so nervous?

2 comments
  • why are we so nervous? That, right there, is the million shilling question.

  • Well said… everyone is cautiously nervous including myself and am not sure why. I keep feeling that we've all relied on the crutches of politics to keep us going for the last 5 years. It has excused our thoughts/opinions, behaviors/actions; but now we're done, we're on our own. It's like a little child who'd has never known that milk comes in a packet being told by their mother to go to the kiosk alone for the first time to buy milk. We're on our own. We have to figure it out, not as a country but individuals, employees, business owners, citizens. We have to work for that that money that will pay those people in Government. It's business as unusual.

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: