This week, I travelled to my rural village and witnessed the usual euphoria about elections. Young people, many of them intoxicated, thronged the streets waiting for aspirants to give them a few coins to enable them to go back to their dens and continue drinking themselves to a stupor.
For politicians, large crowds boost their egos. The larger the crowd, the more satisfied an aspirant becomes. A caravan of fuel guzzlers meanders through the dusty and unpaved roads with deafening sounds of campaign songs. To my surprise, the youth of my village have memorised the campaign songs of all the candidates from the presidential to their local ward candidates.