Muchuzi II

Drunk officials to be arrested.

The police in Amuru district have warned the electoral commission officials against going to work while drunk. The district Police Commander, Justo Ovuru, said polling officials found drunk during the remaining elections will be arrested. He said some presiding officers in Lamogi and Pabo Sub-counties were drunk during the LC5 elections, causing delays in vote tallying.

 There are some jobs in this multiverse that are atrociously boring. This writer is not going to name any (well, apart from one), in case some nutjob quits his job, citing this article as the reason. This might make his boss ram his car into a wall, to show how dramatic he can be or something and we at Plan B can’t be bothered with feeling sorry about mad bosses.

Anyway, these jobs can be relied on to be monotonous and slow, inducing such brain-cell annihilating ennui and boring one so silly that sometimes the people who find their shins in the sticky tentacles of said jobs can only look to liquor and other such things for relief. If the employees are unfortunate enough to have bosses with kajanja, they have to keep on sneakily adding konyagi to their coffee.

What follows is largely fabricated, so fluffed up with hyperbole that some of the reported events could only have happened if Amuru was a district in my head. The muchuzi here is major, so stand warned:

The electoral commission officials in Amuru district decided that they had had enough after the first round of elections. See, there’s not much to do when you’re a presiding officer but to look balefully at people and usher them with your eyes from point to point.

You are basically being paid to look, and look hard. Harder. Hardest. Your eyes are not even allowed to radiate joy as that might be seen by your colleagues as some sort of signal between you and the voter. A presiding officer just can’t catch a break!

With all of this in mind, the officers in Pamogi and Labo sub counties decided that enough was enough.

When it rolled in, the LC5 election found them sitting in a circle, pulling out coins and tossing them on a mat placed in the middle of their circle. If boredom was going to play grim reaper, they weren’t going to wait for it lucid. Ignoring the dirty looks from Ovuru the police commander, they procured a pot of local gin and downed it at noon, labeling it brunch. Whether or not they intended to have another pot for lunch, evening tea and supper we’ll never know because the brunch liquor knocked them off their feet so squarely that refills were made unnecessary.

Vote tallying time came early because by 4pm, a group of presiding officers were laughing so hard at anybody who tried to join the voting line that people got scared and went home. One particularly soused Otim had tried several times to go to the toilet in a ballot box, and four ladies who may or may not have been part of the team had perched themselves as alluringly as they could on two other ballot boxes. This behavior pissed the citizens off and they would have taken action too if the officers hadn’t been acting so damn creepy.

The voting grounds turned into one huge party and the officers were having such a great time that they only remembered to start counting votes when it was well into the night. This is when the Police chief, Justo Ovuru slammed his foot down and decided to put the fear of God into them by roaring that anybody who even so much as smelled like alcohol, anybody who even used an alcohol based deodorant would be dumped into a dank prison cell, the horrible sort that only Amuru can come up with. As one, the polling officers sobered up because believe me when I tell you that if there is one thing that People in Amuru know how to build, it’s a nasty jail cell.

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