Power. Jelani Janga's 80th Election Speech. Jan 19, 2019 10:51:30 GMT -5
Post by cameron on Jan 19, 2019 10:51:30 GMT -5
She’d already won mayor the second her eyes landed on the crowd. A swell of pride mixed with her blood and spread from her toes to the very ring on top her head where a crown should rest, where she knew one day one would. Jelani’s backstage jitters laid cracked and dusty behind her, and she could hardly even remember that distant past, ten seconds earlier, when her nerves had commandeered her stomach and twisted it into a knot that would make a sailor weep. The crowd stared up at her, above them, and her lips couldn’t help but curl their way into the slyest, most sinister of smiles. The more, the merrier.
There was an audible sound of mixed bewilderment, reverence, and fear as her shiny, heavy hand lifted eight rings to her face and ran meticulously painted nails through her hair. She took it all in and swallowed it whole. No matter the reaction, it fueled her. Power came in the awe and respect she commanded by name alone; and, in this case, name wasn’t needed. Simply flashing her bejeweled hand did the trick, and the ones who didn’t recognize soon would.
“It is with great honor and immense privilege that I stand before you today asking you to vote for me, Jelani Janga, for your District Two Mayor. I think we can all agree that this place needs a fresh start. A big, bold change.” She was that big, bold change. For years the place had been run by a straight white man! The absolute worst kind of person, and that was evident in everything he had failed to achieve. But the tides would turn as soon as Jelani stepped in the pool, for the tides were scared of her, as any sensible thing would be. Her nails rattled atop the podium once, twice, and she made a scrunchy, wet kissy sound into the microphone. “That’s the kiss of death, Mayor Ridley.” She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at the audience as they processed her speech. “It’s time to lay you and your agenda to rest. District Two is ready to embrace a better tomorrow.” Divisive. Controversial. Gutsy. Jelani felt her words sweep across the crowd, the burnt ashes of her predecessor scattered on each of their winter coats. Hushed tones quickly grew to shouts of agreement, claps for change, and soon enough others in the crowd were applauding her demand as well. Back stiffened and shoulders fell back to their rightful stance of mighty, and she winked out at the girls of her crew that stood strategically throughout the crowd, just far enough apart to inspire other citizens to join the cheers without seeming connected or planted.
There was no denying she knew how to steal attention and create a can’t-look-away scene. As she stepped away from the podium and continued to speak at her normal voice, silence raced to the lips of every listener. Fireworks erupted inside her chest, a roar of thumping she longed for after each new venture lost its joy and excitement and became a tedious, every day, menial task. It was how she ended up owning a nail salon. It was why she agreed to launder money for some hicks she owed a favor. It was why she poisoned her fiance. And it was how she opened four other businesses and clinics throughout the District to further extend her reach and grip into the community.
Now it was why she stood before so many people. It was why she stood on a pedestal above everyone else. She deserved it. And so she would have it.
“There has been no Victor in Two for seventeen years. Leader after leader have failed to better prepare our youth for these wonderful, meaningful Games, and we are supposedly Careers!” Jelani made her way back to the podium. “I will make sure we bring home our brave warriors. We were lucky this time. We shouldn’t have to be lucky. We should be ready.” She leaned forward and whispered into the microphone. “Janga is ready. Are you?” Lingering for just one final sweet taste of adoration, she turned on her heel and left the stage as her crew started chants of “READY JANGA FEAR NO DANGER” and “JELANI SAVES U MONEY!”