Why I really should vote in 2019, Or maybe Not! The Dilemma

I haven’t always had interest in politics. Matter of fact, my interests are quite a number but politics isn’t one of them. I would confess that it’s probably ignorance that it doesn’t concern me, since I studied mass communication and not politics and strategic studies. Well, I guess I was wrong; for this is why it concerns me…

Some weeks back, I went to the market to do a few things: Make my hair, get my nails done, and of course buy foodstuff and provision for the house. It took me a little more than an hour to finish item 1 and 2. There was a man before me whose hair was being braided. His friends would come and tease him that they want to braid their mustache too which I found funny. While I was waiting my turn, I looked around me. Little children were out playing in the dirt, flies were rallying around them and even disturbing me too. Thing is, most of the little children I saw had bulging stomachs — like potbellies and I began to wonder if it was the medical condition known as kwashiorkor. However, it seemed like a trend. Then it was my turn to make my hair. I was in the middle of that when one woman walked up to me with a nylon asking for alms for motherless children or something like that. I won’t even lie here, I didn’t give her anything. I don’t regret it though, help must be given wisely. She just didn’t look like someone genuine and by the way, I don’t give alms to roadside people begging for them. It has been my principle and always will be — except when I’m led to do otherwise.

Finally, with my hair and nails done, I walked out of the salon (I didn’t go to those very fancy ones who charge ridiculously high prices for something I can obviously get for less) into the main market. All I saw was dirt and dirt and dirty children loitering around and blah blah. It was a sight to be honest, but what was most alarming was the fact that it looked normal to those market women and children. They laughed and sold their foodstuff, and gossiped and laughed again. Nothing showing that they were not happy about their predicament.

This got me thinking about what the government is doing about things like this. I get the fact that there is poverty everywhere, or that poverty is a thing of the mind, or even that everyone cannot be rich. What I don’t get is why the rate of suffering is so high in this Nigeria where I reside. What I don’t understand is why we seem to keep suffering in the midst of plenty. It’s exhausting to be very honest. Where is the future of Nigeria headed?? Someone get me coffee because I’m about to fall asleep.

Fast-forward to some days back precisely on the 2nd of March, 2018 when I decided to register to vote. Before then,I had visited the INEC website a number of times to get acquainted with accredited registration centers but I did not get anything valid from their website *smh*

Having proposed in my heart that I was going to register that day by all means, I got dressed in the morning and asked a security man at my gate for the nearest voters’ card registration center. He directed me to one place in Lekki they call “Elf”. I got there some minutes before 10:00am in the morning. What a Sight!!! So disorganized, I really should have taken a picture, and uploaded on here so you see what I am talking about. Anyway, as I did not know where to start from, I just looked on. People were struggling to get their numbers (Once you get there, you will write your name, and be patient for them to generate a number that will be called before you can proceed to register) and I learnt they had even written their names a day before. LMAO

I knew there was no hope for me, but I still watched on. I asked one man beside me for the process, and after briefing me, he asked where I lived. I told him, but not on specifics, because in Nigeria, you have to be careful about disclosing private information. He then offered to take me to another center where he said they registered people who live in my area. I agreed and was grateful for the kind gesture, as you do not get to receive much help sometimes except when there is a stake involved.

We got to the other registration center in “Marwa” still Lekki anyway. I waited patiently under the hot sun, as there was no shade, chair, canopy to wait. Mehn, it was exhausting. Funny enough, I thought this registration center was more organized than that of the former, and I was relieved thinking that I just might be able to register that day. The man who brought me helped me get a number (Connections, I will say no more) but then, I still waited till around 1:30pm when it got to my turn. I was number 52!

Voters Registration Center

I was so excited, Finally, it was my turn. I met with the lady who handled the registration process. She asked where I lived, and I told her. She then told me that I was in the wrong registration center and I had to go to Lekki phase 1, to one estate like that. I was too confused, why did I wait and waste so much time in vain. I contemplated going home, but decided to try again. I entered bus to Lekki Phase 1 and walked down into Admiralty where I took an Okada and told him to go to the estate I was directed to. You won’t believe the Okada man took me back to the “Elf” registration point. I was so upset to be honest. I eventually asked one of the officials whether I was in the right place. Guess what?? She said “Well yes, but come back on Monday, and go to the Marwa center” I could not even believe my ears, I should go back to where I am coming from, when they sent me to you?? You must be a joker.

At that point, I gave up. I raised up my invisible white flag of surrender. I was done trying to register that day. I went back home feeling defeated. Should I still struggle to register for a voters card, or give up? This, remains my dilemma!