15 Minutes of Fame

I should have written this a month ago, but I have issues with procrastination. In my defence to whoever has been waiting, I did start it three times. All those times just felt wrong. It wasnt what I wanted. So I took my time. My sweet and long time. Another reason for the delay is, this is one long story! If I were to give all the details, I would go to 10 pages.

My 15 minutes of fame. And I dont mean that in a literal sense.

I remember this day like it was yesterday. It was 22^nd April 2017. It was a great day.

The Journey.

Leaving Kisumu for Bondo town. Dad, Mum, Aunt and I. We were to leave at 7am. We left Kisumu at 8am. I may have had something to do with the delay. In as much as I love taking credit, I am going to share this one. Yes, I was late. But there was no way on earth I was the only one delaying guys when Mum was still brushing her teeth by the time I was ready. It was a joint force if you ask me. But who would blame Mum? No one. How about we place all the blame on the kid? They were also right to do so. I was after all told when to be ready the previous night.

“Paula we are leaving this place at exactly 7. I hope you have prepared all your things.”

“ha-ha…dad you should be more worried about mum.”

“I am worried about both of you. Tomorrow is a big day, please just keep time.”

Of course, I had planned to keep time. I set my alarm to go off at six in the morning. That was not the problem. The problem was I slept at around four and was expected to be up at six. I tried. I really did my best. I was ready by 7.20am. But I cannot account for what I was actually doing between that time and eight. Bottom line is we were late! Dad was pissed. Am sure he must have been thinking to himself “Do I really need to go with them? What exactly are they doing? How long does it take to just take a shower, brush your teeth and get in the damn car?”

Dad and Mum had breakfast. Aunt and I did not. She was late. I just don’t take breakfast. It’s my thing.

The journey was quiet and fast. No one was talking to anyone. Dad had his foot permanently on the accelerator. We did not even break while approaching bumps. I understood his situation. He was anxious, nervous, worried, scared, and we were all not helping with our poor time keeping.

It was Election Day. It was a big day.

We were in Bondo in an hour. As it turns out, we were not thaaaaaaat late after all.

The wait.

“We now need all of you to vacate the compound. The only people to remain are the voters, candidates and their spouses.”

“Kindly hurry so we finish what brought us here fast.”

All I was thinking was I was finally going to have something to eat. Being that Aunt and I were just but supporters, we left the compound. We were not sure just how long the process would take. We decided to go and look for a place with food. All we found was a shop with sodas. And nothing else. That had to do. I would drink Coca-Cola at any time. Wake me up in the middle of the night with a bottle of Coca-Cola and I will not skin you. I believe am addicted.

One hour passed and still there was no sign that the process was done. I was done with my Coke and really trying not to order another. It was very hot in Bondo. I was beginning to get uneasy. My head was spinning. I can’t stand heat. I asked Aunt if we could walk back to the compound. She agreed.

The gate was locked. Cars were parked outside. There was literally no shade to sit under. I knew if I didn’t do anything I would faint. Heat does bad things to me. Someone would expect a person who grew up in Kisumu to be used to it. I am not. I was always away from Kisumu growing up. 3 years in Maseno. 4 years in Ng’iya. Then another 4 in Laikipia. These are cold places.

I walked right up to a guy who had his car doors open.

“Hi. Can we sit here as we wait for the results?”

“Sure. Just get in the back”

Two hours passed and still no signs! The worst part was Mum did not think it was right to text either of us and update us on the progress. We were bored. At this point, I was sleepy. I took a nap. Aunt took a nap.

We woke up several minutes later and still nothing. That wait was killing us.

What if we didn’t win? What then? Would it mean all those resources were at a waste? Do we just get in the car and drive back to Kisumu? Would I be blamed somehow? (For the late thing). What if we didn’t really have any supporters? What if they just took us for a ride? Can we really handle loss? We have never thought of loss… What if we win? Do I post it on Social media? Do I keep it on the low keys? Do I write an article on it? What title do I give it? Who do I tell? Who will care? Would it mean we relocate to Bondo? Because I wasn’t doing that. No way!

I couldn’t stop thinking of the What Ifs. These are the most dangerous questions I know.

How long does it take 22 people to decide? I mean it was only 3candidates. That decision should have been made within 30 minutes according to my calculations. Waiting sucked!

There was a crowd outside the compound. I could see my uncles. I could see our supporters. I could see many faces that I recognised; and may more that I could not recognize. Everyone was there for someone. All waiting.

“Paula when did you come?”

“Today morning. We attended the service.”

“We have just arrived. The bus is on its way with the others.”

What bus? What do you mean others? How many more? Did these guys hire a bus? What if we lost? Do we go back home with that bus? With a big embarrassment? Pun intended. A bus? Really? We needed those results.

The gates were opened. The results were out. It was time.

Finally.

The Announcement.

There was a huge crowd inside by the time we were walking back to the compound. No one was giving a hint on who won. No text from Mum. There was so much noise. Finally, the crowd settled down and I knew right there and then that we were getting our announcement.

“Welcome back everyone. We are sorry for the long wait. The electoral college has finally given the results.”

Aha…keep talking. Who won? Did I buy new shoes for nothing? Who won???

“We want you to know that this victory is yours. You as the people of Bondo have spoken through these people. Accept the winner….”

Bla…bla…bla…The winner. Come on who is the winner? Spit it out already.

“And the new Bishop of Bondo Diocese is…” Aha… “The Reverend…” Yes…keep going… “Canon…” Yes…Yes…I needed just one more word. Just one more to know we won. “Professor…” YEEEEEEEEESSSS!!!!!!!

We won!! I did not wait to hear my dad’s full names. He was the only Professor in the race. We won! I always know I can give some serious ululations. And I did. Aunt had already disappeared into the crowd. I needed to get to the front. I needed to be with Dad.

I made my way through the crowd with ease. It was as if they suddenly knew who I was. Everyone made way for me. There were cameras everywhere. Click click click. Everyone had their phones raised.

Dad gave a speech. It was a beautiful speech. He can talk.

“I did not travel with mama alone. I am with one of my daughters…Paula? Where is she?”

Me? It took some seconds to load. He wanted me to go up there. Where all cameras are focusing? Even after being used to standing before people, that still felt new. And I was nervous.

“She is representing the other kids today.”

More speeches…More photos…More congratulatory greetings…More smiles…More ululations…

Ok. We won. What next? Where were we to go? Do we go back to Kisumu?

The crowd whisked dad away. Mum was somewhere around. Aunt was in the crowd. Someone tapped me on the back.

“Eh! Paula you have grown! Do you remember me?”

“Yes. Evans.” Of course, I remembered him. I liked him as a child. He would bring sweets home. He always called me his friend. And he used to have a white laptop back when owning a laptop meant you were the guy. So yes. I remembered him.

“Come with me.” “You are using a different car to the hotel.”

Hotel? What hotel? No one said anything about a hotel. And a different car? Who will drive? What about the car we came with? It was a black Wish. That’s all I know about it. I had never seen it before that day. The plan had been to arrive incognito.

I didn’t really get to ask him a lot. I followed him. A policeman joined us. He didn’t say a word. Evans took me to a silver Prado. V8. Seven seater. Brand-new. DREAM CAR! I was melting. This was the real deal. An army of supporters and two armed police officers escorted dad. Mum had her own army of supporters. She was with Aunt.

The Drive/Motorcade.

Vehicles were in a line. An order. Police-Us-20 other cars-Police. I was in a police escorted motorcade! And I wasn’t just any ordinary person. I was a VVIP! That feeling was beyond amazing.

I only learnt later that the police were not there to give us security, but to control the situation in case people got violent. By people here, I mean our supporters. It didn’t matter.

We drove through Bondo town. We were headed to a hotel owned by a family friend. All the cars had the horns on. The police cars had the sirens on. It was campaign period for those vying for political seats and we being in a police escorted motorcade gave the wrong idea. I didn’t care. I was having my moment. Well, it really was Dad’s moment but I can borrow.

We got to the hotel. More photos. More smiles. More congratulatory handshakes. I was hungry.

The food was just amazing. The hotel was beautiful. But we were not there to stay.

“Paula we are moving you to a different car.”

“Why?”

“To confuse the public. For security reasons.”

“Ok.”

“Come and take anything you may have left in the other car”

The new vehicle was an even better version of the previous one. Still in the family of Prado. This was the latest version. Land cruiser. A beast. White. I was in heaven.

We were leaving Bondo town for home. Not Kisumu. Home is Asembo. A very beautiful place. We have beautiful rocks, and we are known to have mangos. We live close to the Lake (Victoria). There is always a cool breeze. There are many trees in the compound so shades are guaranteed. The house stands at the top of the compound looking so magnificent. It must also be proud to have built there. I love home.

Cars were arranged in the same order as before.

We made three stops on the way. This was to allow Dad wave to the crowds. Give some little speech and shake some few hands. It was thrilling. I felt like I was high on some drug. My insides were not resting.

We got to the market place near home. The bus was waiting for us. You know, the bus that had been hired even before we knew the results? That bus. The whole village had come to receive us from the market place. There were songs and dances. The crowd dictated the speed we were moving at. A distance of 2minutes took 15minutes. But it was worth it.

We alighted at the gate and joined in the singing and dancing. Our usually quiet compound was filled with music. There were tents everywhere. Plastic chairs of all shades were there. So many people filled the compound. How did they know we would win? And what if we hadn’t. Would we still be enjoying the company or would the compound be empty with all the tents?

We made our way to the house. Suddenly there was a line. Everyone wanted to greet us. Hugs. Handshakes. More hugs. More handshakes. This took a long time. It was just not ending. I needed it to end. I was tired. I needed to sleep. And I had been standing on heels all day!

The party was outside. Lots of food. More speeches. I tripped in my speech. I just couldn’t speak Luo. It was hilarious though because the moment I sat down, I was speaking only Luo.

People started leaving at around 8p.m. I could finally get out of my shoes. I could take a shower. There was no way I was going to bed covered in other people’s sweat. I needed to eat too. I needed to sleep. It was a long day. I am used to a VIP kind of life, but that was a completely new level. I had fun. I mean I had my own security! Time was up.

My 15 minutes were up.

One reality is yet to sink in. I am a Bishop’s kid.