Everyone has been talking about the elections; who is likely to win or lose and what will happen to the loser. We haven’t been left out of the conversation. Actually we started election banter mid-last year. We were looking forward to the elections, not because of the changes a new government would bring to our lives, but because of the laxity that comes with the campaigns.

You know the way a politician pulls some strings up there and the council takes a break and hawkers flood to the streets? In return expecting them to support him? We expected a similar kind of allowance. Also we associated the elections with big money. After all, it’s the General Elections! Lots of money would be circulating and some of it was certainly going to trickle down to us. Men who fall on easy cash, as political money is, will always find an excuse to come to our part of the Street.

So we sat and swore to each other, how we were not going to let these elections pass without “eating“ big. Now the elections are here with us and we are not talking the same way anymore. This time round, the elections have not changed things much--the askaris are still chasing us and the big money seems to elude us. Yes, the foot soldiers of a candidate or two have been here and dished KES 200 or so. Still, it’s not the kind of money we dreamt of. Sure there will be a girl who will talk of how they landed a close aide of candidate so-and-so and got a huge bonus out of him, but such stories are the exception rather than the norm.

We believe there is a lot of money circulating but still we don’t know why it’s not coming our way. Perhaps the Street has lost its attraction as the first stop for those who get a windfall? It is at times like these that some of us claim to have the right “connections”. You know, the ones that will make money flood this Street.

Naomi was the most prominent of these “connected” girls. “Wait until the campaigns start and I will show you how we are going to become rich like nobody’s business,” she told a group of us last year. Of course we were skeptical. She’s loud and always talks of the big people she knows in all the sectors.

Early in the year, we started making fun of her. “How come you are as hungry as we are despite your connections?” I asked her. “Wait until the campaigns properly start and you won’t be talking like this!” she replied. One night in February she mobilized together 10 of us to meet one of the aspirants for the governor’s seat. We were supposed to meet him as representatives of the City’s “girls of the night”.

At the meeting we were to promise the governor of our exclusive support and our ability to get “thousands” of twilight girls to vote for him. So, the 10 of us crammed into two taxis (paid for by Naomi) and ended up in a normal loud bar in Pangani estate. We ordered drinks-- which the aspirant was coming to pay. Meanwhile, as we sipped our drinks we strategized on how we were going to present our grievances to him.

As usual, the council askaris were the first on the list, then the regular police. We also had the issues of legalization and recognition to raise. Lastly, but most important to us, was to come up with an estimated figure to request of the governor elect that would be enough to keep us off the streets for three months, pay rent and have us drinking and living well. And, if we played our cards right, have enough left over to start small businesses.
Well, that’s all that happened, talking and scheming.

Neither the candidate nor his henchmen appeared. Naomi kept going outside the club, trying to make real or fake calls, who knows? Eventually, on my fourth bottle, she told us the candidate couldn’t make it but had sent “something” to pay for our drinks. We almost roughed her up, but then again we knew that it was the nature of the campaigns, and although we hadn’t hit the big one, we had tried. Now like everybody else, we are talking about who will win or lose (with much more interest in the Nairobi Governor’s seat than the Presidential race). In any case, we hope that the new government will improve our lives.