On Thursday morning, I woke up anticipating a long and unpleasant trip to Lagos Island. I began my journey at 7:30am and was unsure about what to expect. I left from Sangotedo and it wasn’t until I approached the VGC junction that I realized that I was already past Ajah. After a pleasant ride, I arrived at my destination before 9am. Now, if you are familiar with the notorious Ajah bridge/roundabout and the infamous traffic jams at VGC, Jakande and Ikate junctions, then you would appreciate the fact that this is record time for such a trip. The next day I embarked on another journey, this time to the mainland. I departed from Sangotedo at about 11:30am and arrived at Egbeda at about 2pm. Both trips could have easily taken from 1.5 to 2 times the duration. The roads were uncongested as most institutions had been closed and most organizations had advised their staff to work from home due to security concerns regarding the upcoming elections. Both trips got me thinking about the amount of time, energy and resources which political aspirants, government agencies, political parties and their supporters may have invested in the upcoming elections. All the while, I have found it hard to shake off the phrase ‘a clear path’ from my mind.
The phrase came about as a result of my trips earlier mentioned, the latter being a trip to my polling unit in preparation for the voting exercise due the next day. For many Nigerians, this, more than previous elections, seemed to be the most defining moment in the history of the country. On listening to most of my peers, there seemed a common need to for once perceive a sense of direction for Nigeria and its citizens. A direction towards sustainable systems and institutions. Towards equity. Towards justice. Towards accountable leadership. Towards a thriving economy. Towards security. Towards progress.
Arriving at our polling units, we were greeted by throngs of optimistic, impatient, almost desperate voters, eager to contribute their quota to deciding the fate of Nigeria. Everyone was friendly with each other. We all wanted the same thing. For us, the clear path was towards the polling booth to cast our votes. This time, things were different. There were no party agents handing out cash. No hawkers selling snacks and soft drinks. There was also no cash to spend. Voters gathered around, discussing the speculation that the current cash scarcity was orchestrated to prevent vote buying. Voters seemed resigned to the current situation. For most, if this was the price to pay for a free, fair and credible election process, then it will have been well worth it.
After a shoddy setting up process, the voting began. At this point, it was everyman for himself. I went through my accreditation process, was captured and the handed my ballot papers. I had done my homework. My choice was clear, clear as the path that I had taken from Sangotedo to Egbeda the day before. I casted my vote and made to leave. On my way out, a voter engaged me in the following conversation
Voter: Have you voted?
Me: Yes
Voter: Who did you vote?
Me: Who do you think?
Voter: Be more specific
Me: If you want to suffer no more, who would you vote?
He laughed, an so did I and everyone else listening as I walked away, waving goodbye to my compatriots. I walked to the car where my sister was waiting. We congratulated each other as we began the ride back home. It was a clear path as well.
