Let me start with the former, the pursuit of truth and justice.
Recent events oblige me to recognize a few facts: First, the losing winner did actually steal my vote. I believe so. Other people believe so.
How else does one explain the discrepancies in the tallying of votes in some suspect constituencies in contentious provinces? What to make of the voluntary admission by none other than Samuel Kivuitu, Chairman of the disgraced Electoral Commission of Kenya that he took the presidential election winner’s certificate to State House, Nairobi, after "some people threatened to collect it” and that he arrived at State House and found the Chief Justice there ready to swear-in Kibaki? Or Chairman Kivuitu’s admission that he acted under pressure from the Party of National Unity and ODM-Kenya the proud sponsors of the winning loser President and the losing Vice-President? What about the clandestine nature of Kibaki’s swearing-in ceremony?
To vent my frustration, I decide to protest, perhaps call for a re-tallying of the votes or if I am lucky, another presidential election. Then something in me just snaps. As if a dam just burst open and somehow, what begun as a peaceful protest takes on a life of its own, a life I appear helpless to control.
To legitimize this theft, and to “clamp” down on national protests, the losing winner immediately curtails my freedoms of assembly, speech and movement. I cannot meet with like-minded Kenyans to protest or pursue the truth or justice. I cannot depend on the fourth estate to provide me with adequate or legitimate information because its freedom is also limited. The media tows the government’s line. For example, during the tallying of the voting results, that meant stopping live coverage for over 24 hours as the electoral books got cooked. Right now, that means no live coverage of unfolding events. I cannot depend on the police or other security machinery to keep me safe. This is the ultimate weapon of the losing winner. They have ‘shoot to kill’ orders. Unleash their fire power against all dissenters, including peaceful dissenters. They have orders to seal off public places. So I cannot meet in public parks or streets and I cannot picket. With most of my freedoms gone, I am confined to venting my frustrations in my home or my friends’ homes. But hang on; the latter depends on who my family and friends are and where they live. My Kikuyu or Meru or Embu or Kisii friends who live as ‘aliens’ in ‘foreign’ territory in Kenya lost their homes and or properties.
So in essence, this electoral coup cost me my civil rights and my freedom of friendship. It cost me my peace of mind, and now, it is costing me national peace. This good mind tells me I am held hostage by my government in my country. Supporting this quest sounds untenable. I am fighting a battle with my hands cuffed behind my back. Is there an easier way?
Recent events oblige me to recognize a few facts: First, the losing winner did actually steal my vote. I believe so. Other people believe so.
How else does one explain the discrepancies in the tallying of votes in some suspect constituencies in contentious provinces? What to make of the voluntary admission by none other than Samuel Kivuitu, Chairman of the disgraced Electoral Commission of Kenya that he took the presidential election winner’s certificate to State House, Nairobi, after "some people threatened to collect it” and that he arrived at State House and found the Chief Justice there ready to swear-in Kibaki? Or Chairman Kivuitu’s admission that he acted under pressure from the Party of National Unity and ODM-Kenya the proud sponsors of the winning loser President and the losing Vice-President? What about the clandestine nature of Kibaki’s swearing-in ceremony?
To vent my frustration, I decide to protest, perhaps call for a re-tallying of the votes or if I am lucky, another presidential election. Then something in me just snaps. As if a dam just burst open and somehow, what begun as a peaceful protest takes on a life of its own, a life I appear helpless to control.
To legitimize this theft, and to “clamp” down on national protests, the losing winner immediately curtails my freedoms of assembly, speech and movement. I cannot meet with like-minded Kenyans to protest or pursue the truth or justice. I cannot depend on the fourth estate to provide me with adequate or legitimate information because its freedom is also limited. The media tows the government’s line. For example, during the tallying of the voting results, that meant stopping live coverage for over 24 hours as the electoral books got cooked. Right now, that means no live coverage of unfolding events. I cannot depend on the police or other security machinery to keep me safe. This is the ultimate weapon of the losing winner. They have ‘shoot to kill’ orders. Unleash their fire power against all dissenters, including peaceful dissenters. They have orders to seal off public places. So I cannot meet in public parks or streets and I cannot picket. With most of my freedoms gone, I am confined to venting my frustrations in my home or my friends’ homes. But hang on; the latter depends on who my family and friends are and where they live. My Kikuyu or Meru or Embu or Kisii friends who live as ‘aliens’ in ‘foreign’ territory in Kenya lost their homes and or properties.
So in essence, this electoral coup cost me my civil rights and my freedom of friendship. It cost me my peace of mind, and now, it is costing me national peace. This good mind tells me I am held hostage by my government in my country. Supporting this quest sounds untenable. I am fighting a battle with my hands cuffed behind my back. Is there an easier way?
How did it get this bad? Where was the collective good sense in each of us when any of this was going on?
2 comments:
To state a fair case the facts on the ground indicate that there was widespread vote-count inflation (rigging)on both sides. The difference is that the opposition rigged early while the government clearly waited for the last minute.
Case in point, Kenya has a broken voting system in dire need of an overhaul.
Thank you George for your comments.
Post a Comment