My Open Letter to The Kenyan Politician Just Before I Vote.
June 30, 2017
In the course of the last four months it has been made impossible for me not to listen to you. Certain aspects of the situation which has arisen seem to call for watchfulness and if necessary, a quick reply to you. Mr. Politician a few lines to you is the least I can do as my time is consumed by my efforts to put food on the dinner table. However I can see you today, you seem to understand my cries, but for how long will you? Will I see your motorcade again after the 9th August 2017, or will I watch my uninterrupted tv program just because your don’t have a rally?
You don’t remember who I am, and you probably never will, given how careless you are. You’ll never see this letter either so this really is just for me, but in case you do, just know that you are the most mysterious person I’ve ever met. My life is boring though it was fun at first, we were friends. Then feelings started to grow. Neither of us really wanted a relationship but after a while we seemed to fight the same battle and so we joined hands . We both had issues that left us scared and broken. I thought I will trust you and that we will work together. Do I have doubt on my mind? You’ve written books characterized by flashy photos and nicknamed them manifestos, have you written them yourself you just paid a guy to do it? Just before I finish reading my copy I want to let you know that am on the last chapter but my trust in you is weakening as some topics have been on books before. Will this one end up on the shelves?
I pushed my issues aside to pursue a future with you because you aren’t the one who hurt me before. You never put aside your issues from the one who hurt you. Instead you pushed then on me and doubled you salaries just because I pay it to you. And time and time again I tried to make you realiase that I am still the tax payer, but that didn’t seem to reach your ears at all. I don’t want to hurt you. I did everything I could think of to make you happy, gave you priority on the roads as your motorcade stopped my public transport as I rushed to see my ailing friends, I gave your priority and on airways as you nicknamed yourself diplomats, but I was subjected to visa rules and days of grilling in the overseas embassies. I gave you honesty and got deceived.
I didn’t believe that you will forget me, but I have seen it in my own eyes and it’s driving me crazy. It’s driving me crazy because I don’t think you feel the same. It drives me crazy that you’re the only person who has ever made me feel scared of my own country. The only one who reminds me of my tribe every five years, I am writing to you with the hope that you will stop ruining my life. While your obsession with my ethnicity is flattering, it has become somewhat apparent to me that you might have gotten the wrong end of the stick. This is sort of awkward for me, because I don’t want to be the one to break it to you, but your documentary on post election violence tells it all.
It drives me crazy how my heart actually aches knowing you don’t feel the same and your tribe is money. You talk to me as if you’re talking about me and I fool myself into thinking you are, but then when I realise you’re not talking about me my heart aches even more. You make me feel as if I’m the only person you talk to the way you do like I’m different but I’m starting to believe I’m not since I will be made to serve and you. You make me feel things I’ve never felt for another person this feels real like for sure the future is here and a happy beginning is a reality when the government calls me for a job, but the “Hakuna Kazi” placards will be dusted and hanged on your doors as soon as the doors are opened for you.
I want to give anything you want, but you said you only need my vote, I wish I could tell you all this but I am a coward. You are amazing, kind, smart and beautiful and I would stand in the sun for hours waiting to see you, be rained on just because you can’t cut short your speech. I worry about you and I care about you and I always will care about you. I wish you could tell me if you felt the same. Deep deep down I know you don’t. No matter what you would say to me whether it breaks my heart or makes it I will be friend with you because your too good to let go. I wish I could tell you this but the fear of rejection is getting the better of me. I care for you I always have and I always will no matter how patriotic I am compared to you, I buy Kenyan products while you consume foreign products.
I am not after 5 minutes of fame, but what I am asking for, is for you not to repeat it again. I’m not stupid. I read through the false promises, the “hope”, and the “lies” that have been printed or spoken by you. I see the hope and dreams that people have when they vote for you. I hear their reasons and I despise you for that. My mother always raised me to be truthful and to treat people how I wish to be treated, but isn’t it so sad that the politicians of our country, in charge of us can’t do the same to us. You wasted my precious time and made me start to care again. So please don’t just waste my time again.