Those days were relatively hard times. And Kofi Nti really felt it in his life. It was like sandpaper applied to a new furniture being made; everything will smoothen out? And everything did work out perfectly as the President promised…
He smirked. “I knew the President had his acts together,” he thought. “His trip to various parts of world and the kind of people he met with was not a desperate move. No, it was all in the plan from day one,” Kofi thought to himself.
Two love birds were frolicking on the beach and this distracted him briefly but he ignored them and quickly caught up with his train of thought.
“I know people don’t believe in conspiracy theories but this power crisis was like a game of chess, intentional, well planned and was being well-played.
“Ronald was right,” Kofi thought, as he remembered what his friend had said the other day, “Dumsor was a hidden agenda for propagandist campaign. Rotten propaganda! They created the problem themselves and solved it just to make them look competent, eventually. Why can’t people just see it for what it actually is?”
That was a year and some months ago.
Kofi Nti gathers his attention to the present just in time to see Roland who is little bit ahead in the line that leads to the voting centre. He waves back.
Kofi knew that most Ghanaians, like himself, are rather confused about who to vote for: the ruling party or the main opposition whose warnings to us about how incompetent the incumbent government is. Right now it seems all that the people care about is that the main problem in the form of the energy crisis has been solved.
“But they can’t rule for the third term,” one business woman had expressed some weeks ago in a trotro.
“That is not how we’ve done it the past; you rule for two terms you must leave for another party to take over,” she had added with so much desperation in her voice, amidst nodding and murmuring from the people sitting in the bus with her.
As Kofi Nti paces to the voting booth a lot of things come to mind. He couldn’t as yet decide who to vote for. He remembered how the Dumsor had collapsed various businesses… Now they have peace of mind from the constant bragging of that loud-mouthed borga whose several small business had been closed down; two drinking spots in his neighbourhood also and how that has led him to give up drinking partially. He thought about how Dumsor made people use power wisely.
The power crisis seems to have had a little silver lining to it. He shakes off his thoughts as he stands over the ballot paper. The political party he endorses with his thumb shocks himself.
“I hope I voted right. I hope everyone votes right…For posterity, for a vision! and not empty promises and deception.
He joins Ronald under a tree nearby in front a government-owned primary school, and smiles, “My brother, I hope you did the right thing?” Roland had asked with hope glinting in his eyes.
Kofi contemplates for a while but before he answers a scuffle breaks out close to where the ballot boxes are. Three people have just stolen one of the ballot boxes. They dash off behind the primary school as Roland scurries past a gathering crowd. He breaks off into a shortcut hoping to meet with the one carrying the ballot box.
Roland makes it in time as he hides impatiently behind one of the houses for the the ballot box thief.
“Mewu o!” the thief lets out a shrilled voice as the box tosses out of his hand as he crashes into the undulating ground–Roland had met his shin, just around the bend, with a heavy kick.
“Aboa! This is democracy for you!” Roland shrieked, towering over the fallen thief.