The Mouse, The Jar, and the Truth We Refuse to See

 Today Jamo and my Echo are not on my mind sana.

It’s mid-morning.
Niko tu hapa, 

just staring at the iron sheet roof.

Sina form kabisa!!!.

And I don’t like that feeling.

No cash, Sober, just thoughts making noise in my head.

I keep thinking of a story I read recently.

The story of the mouse, the cat, and the glass jar.

A powerful story.

A clever story.
But like all stories… it depends on who is telling it, and why.

In the version I read, the mouse hides inside the jar to escape the cat.
The cat circles outside, patient, hungry, confident that sooner or later lunch will come.

The lesson being pushed is simple —
for the cat to get the mouse, it must fast get into the jar. Alaa!!.

But as I kept looking at that iron sheet roof, I asked myself a different question.

Why is the mouse hiding in a closed glass Jar?

What if the jar is not protection… but a trap?

Because in politics, especially in Taita Taveta, we must stop pretending that every move leaders make is strategy.

Sometimes it is survival.

Sometimes it is fear.

Sometimes it is simply lack of options.

We are being told today that aligning with government is wisdom.
That joining UDA is development.
That entering the jar is the only way to get the mouse.

But let us not forget something important.

Wakujaa was elected as an independent.

Not because independence was fashionable.
Not because people loved standing alone.

He was elected because the people were tired.

Tired of parties.
Tired of recycling leaders.

We desperately wanted change.

We gave him that chance.

So the real question is not why he is entering the jar.

The real question is —
why did it take four years to discover the jar?

If aligning with government was the solution, why not year one?
Why not year two?

Why now… when elections are near?

That is not strategy.

That is panic.

And let us be honest again.

The idea that the government sat down and decided that Wakujaa is the strongest candidate in Taita Taveta does not make sense.

We all saw what happened.

When Kindiki came,  who was he looking, We all heard it loud and Clear. Mwashako!

His attention was there, at Mwashako
Names were being mentioned, not once not twice.
Until the man had to make and exit!! But yet still Kindiki kept calling.

Mwashako was the stronger option.

He was the better-positioned candidates. That UDA came looking for. 

And when the yellow cap was thrown and he disappeared, reality set in.

There was no perfect choice.

Only the available choice.

So the jar was opened.

Not because the mouse was special.

But because the jar needed something inside.

And today we are being told this is strategy.

No.

This looks more like an orphan ready to be adopted by anyone…
as long as he leaves the orphanage.

No base.

No ground.

No clear direction.

Just the need to belong somewhere.

And that is where we as voters must be careful.

Because leaders will always find a jar to hide in.

Parties will always open lids when it suits them.

But the voter must ask one question.

Are we choosing leadership…
or are we helping a desparate man?

We must not lose touch with reality.

We must not allow slogans to replace memory.

We must not forget the promises we heard before.

Projects start when elections come.
Groundbreaking everywhere.
Promises everywhere.

Then silence.

Until the next election cycle.

The mouse in the jar may feel safe today.

But if the jar has no air…
it will not matter whether the cat was outside or not.

Have we also forgotten something else?

That UDA is a Wantam government. entering the Jar is a bad idea.

That is why we must not forget the most important truth in a democracy.

Leaders are not the owners of the people.

The people are the owners of leadership.

Let the voters decide.

Not fear.
Not parties.
Not handshakes.
Not jars.

The voters.

Because in the end, we are the leadership.

Sisi ndio Sifuna.

If we choose wisely, the county moves forward.

If we choose out of fear, out of excitement, or out of habit…

we will keep crying for dead mice's in the jar.

And this time, we cannot pretend we did not see it coming.

Well...

I haven’t talked to Jamo for some time now.

Strange.

For years we could not go a week without sitting somewhere, glass in hand, complaining about life, laughing at damsels, pretending we understood marriage.

But something changed.

Since that night.

Since Echo appeared.

Since Tumaini stood there like the future we were not ready to face.

The air changed for both of us.

These days when we haven't meet, we haven't talked about anything… even the real conversation.

We are avoiding that topic.

We avoid meeting, because we both know sooner or later the question will come.

What next for Jamo?

What next for this planned marriage?

One day we will sit again.

One day the conversation we are avoiding will come.

One day we will have to decide whether Tumaini is a mistake of the past…

or the only hope for the future.

But until that day comes…

we watch.

Quietly.

Carefully.

Because as Chávez once said,

"Once you educate the people, you cannot make them unlearn."

We see.

Even when we are silent, we see.

Gods of Taita Taveta,
let us create this county in our own image.

They think we are divided.
They think we are confused.
They think we are inside the jar.

But we are faceless…

and yet we see everything.

— Voice of Taita Taveta