(Late Sunday afternoon in Gitithia Village. Children playing near dusty paths. Women returning from church. Smoke rising gently from kitchens. Villagers gathered warmly around Gichuka Waithera. The atmosphere hopeful. Almost emotional.)
Mzee
Kihoto: (stepping forward
proudly) Behold Gichuka Waithera. Son of Gitithia soil. Born beside Karera
Forest. He herded goats with these same voters. Borrowed chalk from the same
teachers. Fetched water from the same river…before promises dried them up.
Nyandemi: (embracing Gichuka Waithera proudly) Gichuka
Waithera…you are one of us. If anyone deserves the Lari parliamentary seat…it
is you.
Kamworo: (excitedly) Go for it, brother! We are
fully behind you!
MC
Jay: (raising finger
wisely) Behind him…yes. But not too far. We must remain close to the parade
of handouts too.
(Huge
laughter.)
Gichuka
Waithera: I want to serve. I want to restore dignity. I want our
children to dream again.
Crowd:
Tunakupea!
Tunakupea! We support you! Gitithia is your Tharaka-Nithi.
Mzee
Kihoto: (turning slowly toward
audience) Ah yes. Warm smiles. Sweet promises. And for once… the empty
promises were coming from voters.
(Lights
shift violently. Campaign music explodes. Dust everywhere. Luxury convoy enters
dramatically. The arrival of Mungai. Mungai steps out wearing sunglasses despite
approaching darkness. Confident. Untouchable. Several men carry black bags
discreetly behind him.)
Crowd: (gasping loudly) Woooooi! Money has
arrived!
Mungai: (arms wide open theatrically) My beloved
people of Gitithia! I may not know exactly where I come from… but I know very
well where money comes from.
(He
throws notes into the air. Chaos erupts instantly. People scramble
aggressively.)
Nyandemi: (catching money mid-air proudly) Leadership!
This is leadership!
Kamworo:
Mheshimiwa…even
if we do not know your village…your money clearly talks to our hearts and hands.
(Huge
laughter.)
Kamau: (quietly aside) The devil is not always
powerful. Sometimes…he is simply well-funded.
Mzee
Kihoto: And just like that…Gitithia people forgot; about ideas,
service, or vision.
(Lights
fade slowly. Election Day. Gitithia Primary Polling Station. Long queues. Nervous
tension. Ballot boxes center stage. Gichuka Waithera stands anxiously nearby.)
Presiding
Officer: (reading results
slowly) For Honorable Mungai…Four thousand, six hundred and eighty-nine
votes.
(Crowd
erupts. Whistles. Celebration.)
Presiding
Officer: For Gichuka Waithera…(Long silence.) Three votes…..others……..
(Silence
crashes heavily across stage.)
Gichuka
Waithera: Three? (Pause.) Three?
Nyandemi: (avoiding eye contact) People were…busy.
Kamworo:
(scratching head awkwardly) Maybe
the pens were faulty.
MC
Jay: (philosophically)
My friend… even Jesus healed ten lepers. But only one returned to say thank
you. And he was not a Jew but a Samaritan. He was not from Nazareth of Galilee
but from Samaria.
Mzee
Kihoto: (to audience quietly)
And there it was. The tragedy of Gitithia. A man known by; his footsteps, his
family, his history, and his dust… received support equivalent to a nuclear
family of one child.
(Gichuka
Waithera remains frozen alone. Lights dim around him slowly.)
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