Static Camera, Broken State

 

If you would meet Kevin today,

The guy who invented this strange kind of bridge. 

He says this bridge connects dreams to reality, It's a brave technicality.

Mostly...

Mostly it collapses immediately you step on it, but...but he still calls it “progress,” 

Back in his village, they cheer for him, 

Who cares if it actually works or not, so long as someone makes a TikTok about it... it will trend... right? overnight.

And that's how good is measured these days, in views and praise.

A few walks from Kevin's home there's Auntie Mercy, stubborn and spicy.

The teacher with the TikTok handle as, ' Not Your Normal Teacher ' . She's a digital preacher.

She teaches children with chalk she stole from the head teacher's office, never waits to be given.. Is that being self-driven?

She says she deserves them, that it's the government's chalks, so government should talk!

That education is free, but so is malaria, so are potholes on our roads, so are billions that go missing from safes they have combinations to, so are the pathetic health conditions....so... so who’s counting?... Who’s accounting?

Mama Wanjiku sits at the local market stalls, hearing the market calls. Back home she plants trees with one hand, holding a cup of kahawa on the other, she's a mother.

She says:

“If the trees die, goats will die.

If the goats die, men will die.

And if we die, then politicians, politicians will feast, at least..

If the politicians die… ah... just kidding, they never go away.. they stay."

Today Kevin is interviewing the local town councilman, a 'gentleman.'

Ring light trembling, truth assembling.

Struggling to contain truth in this room, thick with perfume. 

“What does development look like to you?" Kevin asks.

“It looks like this live video, Nothing like a demo.” 

There are claps in the comment section.

Hearts floating like promises. 

Behind this interview,

The local hospital is coughing, systems offing.

The road in town has more potholes than marks, broken landmarks.

Auntie Mercy’s chalk breaks in half, no replacement.

Mama Wanjiku's stall is empty, no stock.. just clock after clock.

But the camera?

Oh, the camera is stable, perfectly able.

Mama Wanjiku whispers from her stall, “They film the pothole, But never fill it.”

Auntie Mercy tells her class, “Children, this is theatre. where leaders act. And citizens clap.” .

Kevin’s bridge is collapsing again and again and again.

It's trending. It's bending.

Because here, Development is not what stands.

It’s what streams in the glowing screens.

And maybe, Just maybe,

The boldest storyteller Is the one who stops performing progress,

And starts exposing it. Bit by bit..

© amimoh_creatives