Through my 25 years as a Nigerian, I have never voted. I want to know what it feels like to have 
power and choose to use it as I want.
I did not rush out to vote. I strategized. With my voters’ card, some minutes to noon would be perfect if accreditation ended then, so I set out. There wasn’t much pedestrian or vehicular movement until I arrived at the voting centre. There were many people anxious to vote.
After accreditation, I found an empty chair with two old women sitting not far from me. I sat and I listened in on their conversation about respect and the Generation Y. Then another woman, whom I figure would be the same age as my mother asked to share my seat and I did.
I asked them: what of old people who misuse the power of their age? Those who do what they call in Yoruba “fi owo agba gba omode loju.” The oldest of the women, an Alhaja, said something I can’t forget, “Is it the younger one that should cheat the older?”
Then I asked why she came out to vote and she said, “I am old and I do not really need to vote but even the Quran asked us to respect the laws of the land. And I am here to vote for my grandchildren. There may be times in the future when they will need something and this voter’s card will help.” She said as she got her finger marked with the blue marker and collected her voter’s slip. As she slipped into the voting area, she asked “Nibo ni mo ma te nibiyi?” Where do I press here? They told her “Press wherever you wish Mama.” And then, she pressed her finger on the slip.
Like the average Nigerian out there, she may not be so educated but she is aware that her vote can bring change even if it does not come in her time. She joined the man on the wheel-chair and the autistic young man to make her voice heard. That’s the only power we have. To decide the future, to change the present: maybe.
Comments