by Maggie Dube
I’m one of the 50+% of the local population that voted for you. It was 3 years ago when I sold my soul to you with just a simple X. (Amazing what one, usually insignificant letter of the alphabet can do when it counts). And in two years, you’re going to be here again, selling me pipe dreams and playing on my homophobia, which you created by the way because I’m a pretty tolerant person.
I was 18 the last time I put my X right next to your name. Remember, you promised me a great college education and yet here I am, with 84 other people in this lecture room. More than half of them don’t really deserve to be here, but I get it, you sold them the same college line.
I’ll be 23 the next time you come around here asking me to X my soul over to you again. You’ll probably promise me a job which means absolutely nothing to me now because I live in a house with employed people and the end of the month, they don’t bring a single pay cheque, they bring stories of banks and their queues, 300 dollar withdrawal limits and bonds or is it bond notes? And something about someone stealing money from an entire country…and I really do not have the kind of energy all of this requires.
It was cold, you know-the day I sold my soul to you. I had no business being out of bed but come on, you needed my vote and I’m a patriot. So I did it-in the blistering cold, signed over my soul to you, because you promised. You promised me and a million other people that it would all get better, and I’m still waiting for better.
There’s been a lot of talk about you. They say you fell down, they say you fell asleep, they say you’re too old-you’re dying. And to them, it’s one big joke. They have memes on Facebook and videos on YouTube. None of that is funny to me…because you’re my leader, I chose you and I’m waiting for you to deliver. So you can’t be tripping in front of the world, or sleeping in front of the world. You most certainly CANNOT die. You still owe me.
The soul you bought