This year’s Government of the Student Body elections have sparked the yearly ritual debates about the qualification of candidates, the role of GSB and the importance of otherwise unpublicized issues. While some have thoughtfully criticized GSB in its perceived political impotence, others are quick to endorse the executive slate of their choice. And you can bet that outside of the controversial minority student seats on the GSB senate, most ISU students do not know their current college senator or who they will choose to represent them until they are presented with their ballot.It’s not like this everywhere.While I was on exchange at a public university in Kenya, I was able to participate in their version of GSB elections, the elections of the Student Union Board. In comparison, the GSB elections are a snooze. The first thing you have to understand about universities in Kenya is that in return for a coveted opportunity to pursue higher education, you have to sign away your civil rights. Like all other students in my residence hall or in my classes, upon enrolling at Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology, I signed a form declaring my consent to the terms of enrollment. You cannot write a letter to the editor of any newspaper. You cannot contact the press. You cannot make any comments to the general public about the state of the university, its leadership or any of the issues pertaining to the President of Kenya.The paradox is immediately striking. During the academically formative years where most people form their social and political viewpoints, students at my university had no means for expression.Combine these gag rules with a society steeped in hierarchical tradition, and the role of the student government becomes exponentially more important.In some African countries, the chairman of the student government holds a seat in the legislature. Student government is often the one forum in which student concerns and opinions can be expressed. Additionally, the pursuit of higher education is such an elite privilege for a handful of citizens that a university education is an anomaly rather than a prerequisite for a leadership post. The status of a university student is second to none, but it comes at a price.The student government elections at my university were preceded by unparalleled campaign strategies, wheeling and dealing and a smoke-filled room. Literally.Although I had just arrived on campus, I knew the entire student government within a week. Part of this is attributed to the disarming welcome of the Kenyan culture, and part of it was in anticipation of the upcoming elections and the question of how I, as the entire minority student population, would vote. My introduction to various members of the student government went something like this: They would initiate an introduction in which they described their position on campus. I am only surmising from this exchange that my reaction was disappointing; I was the first contact they had with a truly egalitarian attitude. Part of this reticence to act with deference toward a peer was my innate American-ness, and the rest of it was that I thought we were talking about extracurricular activities rather than power. “So, you’re on student government, and I’m on the soil-judging team.” People don’t exactly roll out the red carpet.The most fascinating part of the student campaigns was the zeal of the candidates. Every night, they walked up and down the halls of the hostel, visiting each and every room, introducing themselves, handing out slips of paper with their names. Studying was out of the question. I would just sit down to my books when a student candidate and his entourage of lackeys would sweep into my room, introduce themselves, shake hands and give their grandiose rhetoric about what they would do once elected. Additionally, every classroom, corridor and residence hall was plastered with photocopied campaign posters affixed with paste of indeterminable strength. In fact, most of the campaign posters were so well-glued that they stayed around for a couple of years, offering a yellowing archive of campus political history.The campaign posters were great. Some of them tried to sway the Christian fundamentalists to vote for a leader with the “fear of the Lord.” Others offered thinly veiled promises of plenty, which were well-received in a university system where students are so broke by finals week they are living on less than a dollar a day. The guys who got elected usually ascended through tribal alliances and some exchange of money. The most popular form of “voter education” usually consisted of a liberal helping at the local pub.One night before the elections, all the candidates for the half-dozen posts were allowed to speak at a giant rally in the campus auditorium. With a horrid PA system, the candidates took the stage and inflamed the crowd with great oration. They had the sort of repetition and response speaking style that you never see live in America. On the floor of the auditorium, the entire student body reeked of alcohol. Smoke choked the assembly hall. As the rally wore on late into the pre-dawn hours, the students got louder, fights broke out and the smoke thickened. The candidates intensified in speech, making greater promises.We couldn’t hold classes the day of the elections. Instead, we all went down the headquarters of our respective faculty. The candidates met us in the corridors, pressing slips of paper into our hands. The polls were monitored to the hilt, and security was at a premium. The chairmen of the departments were monitoring the elections, and my lecturers handed me my ballot.The votes I cast that day were the only anonymous thing I did at the university. Everyone knew that I voted, but I never told them which candidates I had chosen. When they asked me about our student elections, they were incredulous that student government was neither the pinnacle of the year nor a passionately fought contest. They’ll never believe me when I tell them that this year, I sat down at a computer between classes and cast a vote for someone I never met.Rachel Faber is a senior in agronomy from Emmetsburg.