Doing something for the first time is always frightening,and one can be overwhelmed by emotions. Speaking in public can be intimidating, but traveling solo for me is all fun, as I'm one person who loves to travel. My first election was one I would not forget.
In 2011 I registered to vote in the general elections. I was very excited, and I was ready to exercise my civic duty. I got my voters' card at my of registration center and went back home. I showed my voters' card to my friends and they all rushed to get registered. I felt happy that I was able to influence my friends to take part in the elections.
The D day for the elections was here, and my friends and I were so excited. We got to a polling unit just by our hostel and stood in the queue. The queue was quite long, but I was not bothered. We were to be accredited before the voting proper.
On getting to the front of the line, the official who was accrediting people informed me that my name was not on the voter register. I showed him my card, but he informed me that I was in the wrong polling unit. I was a bit confused. I thought I just needed to register, and I could vote anywhere.
I went to the next polling unit, and I was told that I was at the wrong polling unit. A nice gentleman got my voters' card from me; he checked a number on the card and directed me to my polling unit. I got there, and it was almost time for them to cast their votes. The electoral officer informed me that accreditation had ended. I pleaded with him and told him what had happened. The man laughed and accredited me.
I got my ballot paper, and I was all confused. I had missed the orientation before accreditation, and being a novice in electoral processes, it was a bad one. It was a secret balloting, and I could not see what others were doing. I looked at the ballot paper, and I told myself to just thumbprint beside the party logo. I thumb-printed and dropped the ballot paper in the box.
I stood there watching others; a black SUV drove in, and I saw everyone running towards the car. I was confused and wondered what was going on. A man came down from the car and handed over some bundles of money to a man, and the whole polling unit erupted with cheers. He drove out, and all hell broke loose.
I watched as both the young and old fought for the share of money the man dropped. I could not understand why. After some time, order was restored. A young man walked up to me and said, "Guy, you don't love money; this is my share of the national cake." I smiled at him and nodded.
The electoral officer counted the votes and was about to announce the result when two scary young men walked into the venue and started shooting. Everyone fell to the floor, and after a while, the gunshots ceased. We all stood up and ran for our lives. Later that evening, I heard in the news that the election in my polling unit was cancelled.
I looked at my friend and told him that I was never going to participate in an election again. My friend laughed and said he almost urinated in his pants. We all laughed about it.
This particular experience made me skeptical about elections. It's an experience I would not wish for anyone to experience.