The humid air in Okigwe usually carried the scent of roasting corn and red earth, but today, it tasted like static electricity. It was election morning, 2023, and the silence in seven specific wards was louder than any political rally.
Back in the village, Chidi watched the sun dip below the horizon, casting long, jagged shadows across the empty polling station. He looked at his neighbors—elderly men who had dressed in their best traditional tunics to vote, and young students who had traveled hours to be counted. The humid air in Okigwe usually carried the
"They are not coming," a woman whispered beside him, her voice cracking the heavy midday heat. " a woman whispered beside him