Articles · Lol · Musings · Those days

Of Polling stations

It’s half past seven pm. now. I’m in bed with a stained pinky, trying to sketch a sketchy piece for election day. My back feels like breaking, and no it’s not solely because of standing in the lines for a long time. Since my househelp decided to stage a dramatic walk out (which I missed because I was getting my sister from school), my mother hasn’t spared  me. I’d say my sister and I, but she hasn’t been feeling well so I’ve been taking everything up, and with my mother’s bad back she can barely lift anything. If you’re a girl and have been raised by a mother like mine, laziness is not an excuse. Unless you are coming down with something that will make her rush you to hospital, you are fit for any work that comes your way. I dusted and washed and scrubbed and in that moment, it was all so therapeutic until I got to the polling station and my back couldn’t take it. It was screaming for a massage or whatever the hell people need when their about to topple over from the front because my back can’t take it and I’m top heavy! 
For the longest time, I only felt patriotic whenever I sang the national anthem but today, today was better. It wasn’t just 3 stanzas long. It was 40 minutes of feeling like you’re about to change everything with your vote. It’s a feeling of pain (the back) and suffering for a greater good. It’s the chilled environment from which you get to vote from. It’s letting every pregnant woman, person with a baby, old person go before you and still feeling that you can stand there longer because you don’t want it to die. To be honest, I love this country a bit too much. And i don’t have the slightest hope of raising my child(ren) in any other country. I’m planning on staying here and growing so old my great grand children call me mwaitu. And In those 40 minutes, I thought about them. I thought about the conditions they’d be coming to and I was hopeful it’ll be the best.

As I think about my great grand children, my parents were out. Probably sipping on something expensive rewarding themselves for being patriotic as they discussed politics. I also want a stiff drink. Ama namna gani? 

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