The presidential polls closed three weeks ago, but George Wajackoyah is still in contention. After having stolen the show in recent months, he arrived at the Supreme Court, even though his votes had not been stolen.
He simply wanted to address the court, so he dressed the part, the durag was temporarily replaced by a sheep’s wig.
“Lady Chief Justice, members of the Supreme Court, I’d like to take this opportunity by thanking you because this is my first time to address the Supreme Court in this country, given the fact that I practice in other jurisdictions…” he started.
When our future president speaks in such lofty English, people must pay close attention. But it didn’t take long this veneer of sophistication crumbled. The man who aspired to reconstruct this country by growing weed (and smoking some on his inauguration) said there was a “ball” of contention.
“The ball of contention is, and I know, your honour, you have already addressed this issue … the ball of contention is I am a presidential candidate, I was in this room this morning, my counsels were refused to come in…”
Counsel, no matter how many, remain counsel; surely, they can be denied entry, but no one would refuse them to come.
Obviously, Wajackoyah wasn’t having a ball… “What I want to beg or to pray is that I uuuhh uuuhh I pray to be given some opportunity probably under your discretion…”
A president who begs and prays doesn’t sound very powerful. But the last word was delivered with pomp: dys-kre-shon.
That’s all Wajackoyah needed to invoke to regain his presidential composure.
“In the absence of Raila Amolo Odinga and Hon Ruto, I think I am the most apprieved person here.” Apprieved? Sound like a conflation of appeal and aggrieved.
He went on: “Despite the fact that we have also (sic) other interested parties, you should take cognisance that I have run for election in this country. I have traversed this country I’m very seriously injured…”
Indeed, it is hurtful when voters delivered just a handful of votes to our great comrade, one would think the folks at the electoral body, IEBC, had calibrated their computers to record Wajackoyah’s votes in pairs, like hyenas’ testes - the other elements that underpin his economic strategy.
But our great leader did not let this temporary setback hold him back. He was here to give thanks and praises.
“Finally, I’d like to thank those who are here, especially Githu Muigai and James Orengo for having successfully made me to be (sic) who I am today and my alumni of course, the Chief Justice…”
There was more: “Let’s look beyond the mirror, that we can look at justice to be done. Even though people say or (sic) collude or speak of fairness, fairness starts with me in this room. Thank you, thank you, again.”
Justice William Ouko, looking exhausted at Wajackoyah’s hallucinatory English, calmly said.
“We indeed recognise the fact that you were one of the presidential candidates in the last elections, we’re also aware you are an advocate…”
But he had no time to waste: “We have another room, High Court Number One,” he said with finality.
“If you want to observe from there, that will be well and good. In this room we have counsel who are fully participating in these proceedings. You can observe from next door and that’s how it’s going to go…”