The recently concluded elections have brought happiness and sadness to Jiji Ndogo, and not in equal measure. A young man ran against Ponda Mali, our veteran Member of Parliament (he’s been in the seat for so long, some of the younger folks can’t remember who was before him). The opponent’s name was Felix Nyani, and his detractors were quick to say he looks more like a Fisi than a Nyani. But that’s neither here nor there. What animal Felix turns out to be, only time will tell.
Once the results came in, the entire village broke out in jubilation. One couldn’t even tell who among them, if any, had voted for the incumbent. Which is a good thing, since there were none of the scuffles, few though they were, witnessed in the last election. It means we are slowly maturing politically and can move on after changes in leadership.
That said, one man refused to share in our IEBC-induced euphoria. Ponda Mali is not a man to take defeat lying down. Oh, no. Ponda Mali rides the back of defeat like Tuff Hedeman. You probably don’t know this fella. Neither did I, until my boss Inspector Makini, the only man in Jiji Ndogo to have flown in an airplane, mentioned him.
“He was an American professional bull rider,” he said. “I should know. I was in America.”
“That’s an actual thing?” Sgt Sophia asked. “I thought it was only in the movies.”
“Americans are crazy about riding mad bulls. They even ride mechanical bulls that eat electricity instead of grass.”
While bull riders have to stay on the insane bull for only eight seconds, Ponda Mali has been riding the defeat bull for a week now. First, he started with threats of legal action.
“This election was very closely contested,” he explained to the reporters at Jiji Kubwa. “Of course, I have to go to the court for a recount.”
“But Ponda Mali,” said one reporter, “of the 150,000 votes counted, Felix Nyani garnered 120,000. The other fella, the one no one even knew existed until people saw his name on the ballot — he got 20,000 votes, and you got 9,950. You think a recount can change that?”
“Young woman, where did you go to school? Do those numbers add up to 150,000?”
“The other 50 were spoilt votes.”
Ponda Mali smiled. “See? This is why I’m going to court. Every vote counts.”
I can’t say for sure how Ponda Mali’s quest for justice is going, but one thing I can tell you is that he didn’t leave it there.
As part of his campaign, he had promised to bring electricity to Jiji Ndogo. After some of the older voters reminded the rest that this had been his perennial promise since the days a kilo of sugar cost three shillings, the tide turned in Nyani’s favour.
Nyani also happened to mention a small company called Kenya Power and Lighting Company that is responsible for electricity and lighting. Yes, it’s right there in its name. Some people thought the company was also responsible for making people light-skinned, but some of our more knowledgeable kin corrected them.
“It’s not lightening, you dummies. It’s lighting.”
Anyway, back to the exiting Ponda Mali. In his endeavour to make sure Jiji Ndogo got its share of lightning, he had dropped a ton of electricity poles along our dirt road from Jiji Ndogo to Jiji Kubwa. So when a town-wide uproar sends Sgt Sophia and I to investigate, we find out it’s a lorry collecting all the poles.
“Hakuna Ponda Mali,” explained the driver, “hakuna umeme.”