I have
been extremely elated over the past few days which has had me quite relaxed to
say the least, and for obvious reasons. First and foremost is the conclusion of
the GE 8/8/17, a mere democratic process that had turned my life inside out,
taken me up and down, and most notably left me with saggier pairs of trousers.
The campaigns had been quite demanding, in all thinkable aspects, and I was
more than happy when I woke up on the D-Day. Voting went on just fine, but the
results weren’t so appealing. I mean, I had given it my all over a 6 months
period. The first rally, the MCCP nomination, the debate, all these memories
that still linger in me surely deserved a more exquisite reward! I was dejected.
It was hard to cope with the loss especially for a first-timer like myself.
Politics had brutalized me at my first time of trying, and if I was to sarhah the 25th January 2017
me (the day of my manifesto launch), I’d probably jab some bare knuckles to my
face and reconsider my political ambitions.
Being
quite the prayerful one, I knelt throughout the campaign period. When I prayed,
I did not petition for my wishes to be granted, I asked only for wisdom, and
for His will to be done. It was this prayer that would make me dust my
sack-cloth and give glory for what I had achieved. The entire candidacy had
honestly surprised even me! I felt that I had gained more value in family and
friends, in passion and trust, in happiness and in faith, pain and loss, and in
foes and fakes. I had been the change
that I believed in, while my peers were warring on their keyboards, I was out
there engaging the status quo in its
own arena. There’s pride in that, I know for a fact through experience. I was
no longer that 25th January me that was merely part of the scrap. I
had been annealed, structured and composed. I would do it all over again and still
enjoy every bit of it. I live to fight another day, more chiseled and wiser
than before, and whether that will be as soon as the year of our Lord 2022, is
a probability that I leave safe in the mercies of my God and His will.
I am a
politician, you should know. Politicians have affiliations, political
affiliations of course. We politicians are exactly not enemies. We have and
harbour close relationships that are paradoxically invisible behind those
glaring cameras at the press conferences. We have meet-ups, that are not
ideally out of convenience but more situational. By virtue of one being a
political candidate, he/she is presented the certainty to meet and maybe
interact with opponents and other candidates. A typical situation is the early
morning IEBC meetings that were of ‘purpose to attend in person’. Opponents
would also meet at public events and would offer pleasantries, and often
designated to seat in common spaces. So, ideally we are not enemies like most
Kenyans would think. The unfolding at the podiums might have been more like the
‘T-Mobile Arena’ in Nevada, USA, where words and below the belt punches would
largely contradict what we expect of pugilists like Flloyd Mayweather and Conor
McGregor, but behind that we all nurture this weird relationship of
interdependence and concern. So we are friends. Therefore, I do believe that
when Kenyans choose to fight among themselves, they do it on their own vocation
and has little to do with our politicians’ interaction mannerisms. Universal
suffrage is quite consequential a process, but respect for human life and space
eclipses its tenacity. Humanity should always overshadow our opinion and
ethnical attachments. Every Kenyan had an equal right to participate in a
democratic process that would ultimately conclude to a loser, and a winner.
Now,
back to what I mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph, politicians have
affiliations, same as sharks have fins.
During
my campaigns, I focused on selling my agenda to the great people of Olkeri. I
campaigned on a transformative and youthful agendum. I interacted with close to
4,500 voters making almost 900 stops while at it. I’d implore them to vote me
in, and more so to vote for the Jubilee presidential candidate and his deputy,
as well the party’s nominated Governor, Senator, Member of Parliament and the
Women’s Rep. I’d persuade them to go for ‘suti
lakini kiatu muweke Maendeleo Chap Chap’. That was my affiliation, for
reasons that are known to me, tribal cocooning notably not being a part. I
merely exercised my right to freedom of conscience, religion, belief and
opinion. I was also keen to preach peace and tranquility, and the gospel of remaining
united in the aftermath of the election. Politics comes and goes in eventful
cycles of 5 years.
Tano Tena was a reason for me to
celebrate, and I did. I recall Friday night when Uhuru Kenyatta was officially
declared president, and these good news had spurred the final breath of life in
me. Having taken my time off the entire
political debacle, I had retracted to a chillspot
and taken time to digest my debut in the political leagues. So when one
Wafula Chebukati announced what Kenyans had been waiting for, the people around
me were cast into frenzy. In the midst of it all, I received a call from one of
my political competitors’ supporters. This is how it went down:
“Halo Mheshimiwa? Sisi huku ni kufurahia tu.
Tulikushinda na sasa tumeshinda mpaka ile kubwa!” He then proceeded to
unleash one of the most annoying guffaws I had heard in quite a while. So I
took time to compose myself before answering…
“Niaje Choppa? (Name has been altered to
protect the identity of the cellular assailant) Naona uko na furaha umekula bet zote?”
“Eeh, na si nilikuambia mimi napelekaga watu
nyumbani?!” Then that guffaw again…
I wasn’t
mad. Not really. I had let everything sink inside me, so it really wasn’t about
the taunting that enraged me. No. It was the mentality behind it that was
worrying to an extent of making me feel mad. Feel mad. Not get mad. I suppose there’s
a thin difference. So I took it up with him, and made him realise that it was
not about losing or winning for him and many other Kenyans. I lost. My rival
won. Just like the incumbent head state had won and the opposition leader had
unfortunately lost. But for everyone else, the hoi polloi, it really is never
about losing or winning. It is about making your bed and lying on it. In the
process it becomes the same bed that I have to lie on, all of us, same bed.
So if we are going to be sleeping with a dog then we should be ready to wake up
with fleas, and if we are sleeping on a bed of roses, then we must all be expectant
of a most beautiful sleep.
Life is
a bed of roses. We only choose to make it hard ourselves. A bed of roses would
be somewhat a beautiful thing, or at least it should. So would you rather sleep on your bed of roses or tend to its
beauty all day and night? I say this day, as I have said before, that life is
in fact a bed of roses that is under a duty of care from its subscribers, that
whosoever wishes to neglect his/her duties will ultimately detriment its
allure. While you enjoy every bit of it, be careful to ensure that you water
and tend to its magnificence. Yet, it is the little bits that matter, so
believe in yourself as much as you can, make peace with people and your pasts,
make as many souls as you may happy each day, love and love hard, be reverent to your Deity and your faith, and when you fall pick yourself up and start
moving already.
