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.
Inside the strategy room, a senior official slammed a fist onto a wooden table littered with crumpled reports. The air was thick with the smell of old paper and urgent sweat. "We told INEC," he shouted to a room of weary lawyers and frustrated candidates. "We gave them the maps. We flagged the security concerns. Now, thousands of our people are standing in the sun, waiting for a ghost to show up and hand them a ballot." Back in the village, Chidi watched the sun
"They are not coming," a woman whispered beside him, her voice cracking the heavy midday heat. The air was thick with the smell of