Vote anyway. Your surrender is music to their ears.

Fact: my country is corrupt.
Fact: there’s a very strong chance my vote will be rigged
Fact: it may not be fixed in my lifetime

I feel disappointed by Kenyans who choose not to exercise their right to vote yet are quick to bitch and moan at a mile-a-minute about everything under Kenyan skies. We have a right to complain; we must complain but we have a responsibility too -and the vote is the most basic one.

I’m no expert on politics and have no desire to be one. I am only as politically savvy as the next person that reads the paper occasionally, listens to the news on radio or television, and engages in conversation about whatever issue is heating up the moment.

Along with the overwhelming majority of Kenyans, I pay my taxes -involuntarily- and then I’m burdened with the added expense of mitigating the consequences of poor infrastructure and non-existent public service.

Along with the same majority of Kenyans, I am filled with righteous anger at the blatant plundering of resources by the leaders I elected, or who were imposed on me through theft of my earnest vote.

Along with most Kenyans, I feel my sense of helplessness growing in direct proportion to the anger that threatens to consume me. And if it weren’t for the fact that I cannot afford justice in this country, I would happily fork out for a gun and two-hundred-and-twenty-two rounds of ammunition, each one inscribed for the intended recipient.

Along with many Kenyans, I have expectations of a supposedly elected government, and I curse the day each so-called leader was born. Because when called upon to make my voice heard at the general election, I got up at the crack of dawn and got in line at my polling station, stood in the scorching heat of day until I cast my vote. I walked away optimistic, proud, full of hope…I had made my voice heard, made my desires known. I exercised my civic responsibility (more than just a right) and demonstrated respect for my own right to vote –notwithstanding the disappointment that lay ahead.

I’ve heard all manner of baseless excuses:

“What’s the point of voting when they’re going to rig the results to suit them anyway?”
“I haven’t got the time to idle on a queue all day”
“I didn’t have time to go and register to vote”
“This country is gone to the dogs; voting will change nothing”

And more….

In response, I say:
If every Kenyan thought like this, mightn’t we as well be back to former president Moi’s single-party dictatorship where we didn’t choose because there was no choice?

I empathise with the length of time it can take to stand in a queue on a hot day –I’ve done it, time and again. However, we’re called to do this ONE TIME in 5 years –not every week! How taxing can that be?
ECK, even with it’s damning participation in derailing the election process, did do a fairly decent job of making voter registration centres available and accessible to Kenyans across the country, ensuring that we could register at our convenience and, later, inspect the registers if we were in doubt.

THESE ARE THE ONLY KIND WORDS I WILL EVER HAVE FOR KIVUITU AND HIS CRONIES

Kenya has gone to the dogs and the dogs turned their snouts up at it – “Unfit for canine consumption”, they said. I relate 100 per cent to the sense of helplessness. I feel it every time I hit a pothole, encounter a traffic policeman seeking a bribe, photo-copy my own abstract form because they only had one at the police station. I feel it every time I visit a government hospital and see scores of ailing people waiting to receive sub-standard medical attention from a medical staff that is pre-occupied with planning their next national strike so that they can get paid for services rendered. I see it every time I go to my shags and interact with toiling people whose reward is poverty and preventable disease and chang’aa-drinking children who should be in school. The instances are endless…painfully so!

And I will complain until I am hoarse, because I voted for change, because I expressed my hope and desire to see a better nation. Because since I couldn’t run a crusade, I stood up to be counted and spoke with my vote.

Why choose to roll over and play dead, when you can speak and keep speaking until you can no longer be ignored? Some Kenyans will march in defiance and brave police brutality. Some Kenyans will present reports and call the wrath of the nations on Kenya. Some Kenyans will find a way to benefit from the corruption. But every Kenyan over the age of 18 can register and vote –it’s the least you can do.

History bears testimony that political revolution and evolution happens over time and generations. If you refuse to stop speaking, the time will come when the collective voice cannot be ignored. And your vote doesn’t take much -only awareness, conscience and one day every 5 years.

~ by Mo on September 1, 2009.