Special Feature
March 4, 2011
Election Day

A fictional series Last week:

It had been a year since I had been attending A’ level college. I was a straight A student….

…I was finally able to really focus on my studies without interruption. This was mainly because one of my teachers from High School, Mrs Cooper, had taken me in….

…I used to go home every weekend….{{more}}

…One Saturday night. I was home alone and quite alarmed when I heard a banging on the front door…. It was Christopher….

‘Oh my goodness he is drunk’, I thought, as I ran toward the living room to let him in….

…I turned on the light and opened the door and he stumbled in – almost knocking me over.

He was renk. Alcohol and some undefined but offensive odour charged in with him; assaulting my nostrils and churning my stomach…

“Shorry Kita, but ah had to shee yo tonight… he gawn ah nuh… deh tek him” I was just about to ask him to clarify the nonsense he had just uttered when he suddenly lunged outside gagging and retching….

“PM what yo doing sitting in the dark in yo nightie?”

My brother’s voice booms through the room, startling me out of my reminiscing and almost jumping me out of my seat. He switches the light on as he comes in and my eyes squint to adjust to the illumination.

“Wey you talking bout, we only have seven seats so far. I ain’t celebrating until I know fu sure that we win.”

Hezron stupes as he plops onto the sofa.

“Girl,” he says looking at me intently with a massive grin on his face. “Go bathe yo skin, put on yo Sunday best and get yo speech ready; because I guarantee you that, in a matter of hours, security will be at yo door to escort you to yo victory parade.”

I sigh in response.

“Wa really happening here? After yo done tun yo life and St.Vincent upside down to get this, now is like yo don’t want it.”

I shake my head and look away, out into the night.

“You know Hezron, I was so busy fighting to get here; I did not pause to ask myself really if I could do this. You don’t understand what being a Prime Minister means: I am going to have to sit in the presence of some of the most powerful people in the world; I am going to have to answer to all the big shots who supported the party financially; I am going to be held responsible for every promise made, during our campaign, not just by me, but by every UNLDP candidate; I am going to be under constant scrutiny….”

“Kita, what nonsense are you talking?” he replies, sliding to the edge of his seat, so he could turn to face me directly. “Those questions were some of the many objections that I threw at you… they are questions that have been asked and answered. Listen to me big sister, you can do this. You have to! It’s happening.” He is staring at me and I squirm and look away again.

“Is this about Christopher?” he finally asks.

“To some extent,” I shrug and he throws his hand in the air and rolls his eyes.

“Jeez man Kita you need to let that crap go and move on with your life!”

“I know… but I feel so unworthy…. I keep thinking… all those people who voted for me what would they think of me if they were to find out what I did?”

“Worthy? You think any politician in the history of this world has been ‘worthy’ of leadership. You ah human being. Ah mean what you did was pretty dumb, but you need to shift your focus now to the task ahead. To be honest with you, sometimes I feel like pulling Christopher aside and tell him to stay to hell away from you.”

“You never liked him,” I say as I rise from the sofa. His answer was a shake of the head. “He saved my life you know,” I continue.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean that he has the right to mess it up. Kita he has been messing with your head for nearly twenty years… it is time to let go….”

As I walk toward the bathroom to shower I think about Hezron’s words and I am again transported back to that night, all those years ago, when Christopher staggered to my front door, filthy and drunk and emptied his stomach onto Mommy’s porch.

After I had disinfected and hosed the porch, I had found him passed out on the living room settee. Not quite knowing what to do I had just left him and gone to bed.

At first I had been too scared to fall asleep; but then I had dosed off with the lights on. Sometime later I had been startled awake by the sound of the shower. I had sat up and checked my watch, it was 4 am. A few minutes later there had been a knock on my door and Christopher had walked in with a towel wrapped around him.

We had looked at each other awkwardly for what seemed like an eternity. Then he had gone over to Hezron’s bed and sat down.

“Where’s everybody?” he had asked almost feebly.

“Away,” I had answered.

“I am sorry about tonight,” he had said. He had suddenly looked away and there had been tears rolling down his cheeks….

More next week…