It is that time of the year again. A time for forced smiles, a time for people shouting themselves hoarse and senseless; a time when the nation get awash with scandals about who shouldn't be seen with whose spouse; it's also the time for some of the most colourful language; it's the time when the riot of colours can spin your head. This is Malawi's elections time.
I like this period, if only for gauging the utter emptness of speeches, the acts of desperation from politicians fearful of losing what they had claimed as their own for life for five years.
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