Whoever thinks anything will stop me from becoming President of Kenya had better think twice. If the incident last week did not discourage me, nothing will.

I am going all the way to the ballot paper, now that Mama Hiro has finally shown signs of taking my ambition seriously.

This daughter of my mum-in-law has started thinking of herself as the next first lady of Kenya. The other day I heard her telling a friend on phone, “Don’t worry, all that will be a thing of the past after August 9. The next first has spoken.”

I am sure it is the way I arrived home under police escort the other day has made her believe I am destined for greater things. Lest you have forgotten, I was brought home in a police van after a funeral fiasco.

You recall that at this burial ceremony, I had started to announce my presidential ambitions before the microphone was snatched from me, in a rough manner. I had to be whisked away by the police. My mistake? I had the audacity to declare my ambitions in the territory of a kingpin! At home, I assured a shaken Mama Hiro, that it was normal for presidential hopefuls to be given police escort.

“So they will be giving you security until August?” she asked.

I murmured something to do with the strategic and budgetary plans of the national security committee. Luckily, before she could seek further clarification, a call came on my phone. It was Mr Kige Ugeu, founder of The Chameleon Party – my vehicle to the House on the Hill.

“Rais mtarajiwa,” came his squeaky voice. “We should think outside the box.”

“Meaning?”

“Let us do your announcement online. This will reduce costs and the possibility of violence. What matters is to let the world know you are contesting for presidency. Then soon, they will accept you.”

This sounded like wisdom. Since the funeral debacle, I had been wondering how else to publicly announce my presidential bid.

“Just go ahead and assemble your campaign team. Include nationally known people who will add value to your campaign.”

To be honest, the reality that I wanted to vie for presidency had not quite sank into my mind. I had not pictured the magnitude of the task ahead.

“And Mheshimiwa, to make everything dramatic, spread word around that you will be making a colossal announcement that will rattle the political landscape in this part of the world,” Kige advised.

After that telephone chat, I felt a little overwhelmed. The thought of giving up the quest for presidency and settling for my former ambition, governorship, hit my mind. I consulted my side-kick, Mokonyonyo Spoiler.

At least he could understand me better than this Kige man.

“Hakuna kurudi nyuma,” Moks declared. “We are going for nothing short of presidency. Just do what Mr Kige has said.” We agreed that Moks was to compose and spread the message about my big event, to be held on Friday.
Well, my handler did not disappoint. See the message he crafted: Mheshimiwa Gwinso has listened to the overwhelming wishes of the people to vie for the position of President of Kenya. He will be making an announcement that will forever alter the political terrain in this country.

The event will be held virtually on Friday from 10am. The link is to be shared in due course. Karibuni nyote.”

To my pleasant surprise, the message reached far and wide. I received numerous messages of congratulations and encouragement. I showed them to Mama Hiro, and my heart glowed with pride to see her look impressed.
The morning of the D-day found me ready to break the tectonic news. I was going through my speech when a message popped up from my phone.
It read: We are informed that you intend to announce your intention to vie for presidency of the Republic of Kenya through the Chameleon Party. Please be informed that such a party does not exist in our records. Don’t expose yourself to public embarrassment. Registrar of Parties.

My heart sank. “What is it, dear?” asked Mama Hiro. She had noticed the change in my manner. I explained what had happened.

“I also wondered how you could attach yourself to a party calling itself the Crocodile Party,” she said.

“Not crocodile. It’s chameleon,” I corrected her. Needless to say, I cancelled the big event. My calls to Mr Kige have gone unanswered since then.

However, these are just minor setbacks on my way to the presidency. I will soon bounce back kwa mpigo!

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