My Voting Registration Hell!

In the years since I came back to Nigeria, I have witnessed 3 elections. The first 2, I was still a minor. The last 1, I was old enough to carry out my civic duty, but I didn't. I didn't do it out if self-preservation, not because I feared bodily harm, but because I feared having my heart thoroughly broken. I was of the opinion that my vote wouldn't count given Nigeria's history of fair elections. I did my best not to care about the candidates and I just detached myself from it all. When people asked, I would say I wasn't a political animal and so I wasn't inclined to do anything political. I don't think people were really listening to my answer. If they were, they would have realized the words weren't worth their weight in salt. The words don't even make much sense. That aside, I am a very opinionated woman. Is it possible that there is one thing on God's green earth that I wouldn't have an opinion on? That's another story on its own so, I'll just leave that alone for now. In the past 4 years, every silly dream or fanciful notions I had about Nigeria has dissipated. I have finally woken up to reality. My country is very sick and not only isn't she being cared for, she's being driven through more trauma. I'm sure most people won't be surprised about how passionate I am about Nigeria. I'm a passionate woman, I have a lot of causes it is only natural that I be patriotic as well.

I remember one time my little sister suggested that I be a lawyer or an activist. Very appealing vocations, but if I were a lawyer, I would be held in contempt of court an awful lot and if I was an activist, I cannot promise not to kill off the bully one way or the other. It's best that I just stick to venting in my head or occasionally putting words to paper. I think it's necessary that we not keep too quiet though. Afterall,  they claim it's a democracy. The people have a voice in a democracy. Anyway, back to my voting registration hell. I made up my mind that come 2015, nothing short of hail and brimstone will stop me from casting my vote. I am afterall a Nigerian citizen even if not thoroughly bred(thank God for small mercies). I told a family friend of ours to help me pick a number since the registration was taking place in a school where he worked. I really don't get why there aren't official voting registration booths. He got there around 6:15am and he got me number 043. Makes me shudder just thinking about the time some people got there. I took my time and got there around 8:30am thinking they should be on 030 at the very least. One can only imagine how shocked I was that they were still on 005. I rationalized it in my head and concluded that by 10:30am I should be on my merry way. I don't think I've ever been more wrong in my entire life(and I don't always admit to being wrong). It was commotion after commotion. I saw adults acting like children. It was a sad sight. One can only imagine what the future holds for Nigeria looking at those people. The appalling thing was, you couldn't differentiate between an educated person and an uneducated one. They acted in very much the same way. I cannot tell you the number of times I shook my head in pity for Nigeria. It's a miracle it(my head) is still attached to my neck.

I was lucky enough to find a chair and so I sat down and just observed quietly. That was a first for me though. I am not known for keeping quiet in the face of wrong doing and I am a very brave woman(even if I do say so myself). Not much scares me, rather my curiosity is piqued. Don't even assume that I haven't been in scary situations. It is because of them that I became brave. The first thing I noticed was that there seemed to be a man at the root of all the chaos that happened there. I know his name, but I will refrain from using it because I don't want to be slapped with a libel suit(if I had the money, trust me when I say I will go for it). He was obscenely loud and he picked a fight with everyone. I don't think there was a man he didn't throw punches with or tried to throw punches with. He even fought with the women. It was obvious that he was a political thug. I was tempted to ask him what gains he's gotten from doing that over the years. I sat calmly through every episode of chaos. I am of the opinion that one is only attacked in situations like that if one shows fear. If you show no emotion whatsoever, they leave you alone. It's helped a lot of times and is yet to fail me. So, I trained myself to keep a bored, cool facade. I couldn't help thinking that there should have been security there. If only for the corpers carrying out the registration process. I felt that way until I found out they were taking money to help late comers leave early. A guy actually walked up to me and tried to sell me a number. The look on my face must have stopped him in his tracks and once again, I was left alone. It makes one wonder how deep the corruption rot is. It's going to take a lot to eradicate it completely.

I felt truly sorry for the older people. I thought they should have been given preference. They weren't. How much stamina does and elderly person have? There is no way I would want my grandparents going through all that stress. What's left of the conscience of a  young man who goes out of his way to oppress old people?  He's going to grow old too. Isn't he afraid of karma? I can think of quite a few ways karma could kick his ass. He had no respect for protocol or rules. He was/is a menace. Beside me, a woman was screaming, "to ba ni Amosun, awa na ni eyan ni PDP, awon to ju Amosun lo..."(pardon my yoruba). Translated; "if you have Amosun backing you up, we have godfathers as well in the PDP, people more powerful than Amosun". Then it dawned on me, the fight for power as already begun. It is quite silly. Why intimidate people though? At the risk of sounding a little biased(I'm quite partial to Amosun) do these men even know people are fighting on their behalf, using their names? Did I mention there was a councilor present? His presence was of no importance. He didn't deem it fit to try and create a peaceful atmosphere. He just looked on and chatted with his minions. At another point, around 2:30(yes, I was there for a while), another man came in with an escort. You could tell he was a politician but I couldn't tell his party.

When he arrived, he alighted and beckoned to his thug. They spoke in hushed tones for a while. He gave the councilor the cut direct and then moved on to have a few words with the corpers. He paid no attention to the people waiting in line. I could have sworn he had selective blindness. In less than 10 minutes, he was gone. 20 minutes later, his thug left as well. I plan to make it my short term goal to find out who that man is. For no other reason than to understand the scenario better. Why was he rude to the councilor? My curiosity was piqued and although a journalist I am not, I would like to think I acquired a bit of the skills required for the job in school. While I will not be actively fighting this battle, I still have to know. For some reason, I feel the need to understand what I saw yesterday.

Needless to say, after the thug left, everything went a little smoothly and a little faster. Under an hour, I was out of there. Still, my observations stayed with me. Why do politicians need thugs? Why can't they stand in the confidence of their ability(if they have any)? I look forward to that day when we can actually act like civilized people and not like barbarians. The day when the masses are treated the way they ought to be. I'm not saying I plan to be at the forefront of changing all that. I have come to realize that with Nigeria, it will never start with one person. It has to be a mass movement. I will continue to do my part though and never succumb to corruption.

One thing is certain, we make our destinies and we choose who leads us. So, no matter your misgivings, please, please, please, when the time comes, vote. No matter what they do, your vote counts. Do not be swayed by gifts, do not sell your future and your children's future for immediate gratification.

Usually a word is enough for the wise.

Adupeola