I’ve voted in four elections since I’ve been eligible to make my mark on a ballot paper.
Four elections in nine years.
It seems a bit much in such a short amount of time, but when I look at the political landscape now, compared to 2009, a lot has changed.
I was a third year varsity student in Potchefstroom during the 2009 general elections. I was taking a module on political communication and how the campaigns of the country’s biggest parties have changed over the years, so I actually knew a bit about their policies, promises and plans.
I was so excited at the prospect of finally doing something adult and having my vote count.
I was adamant that it was every citizen’s duty to vote and rounded up some friends to accompany me.
We got up early, some took coffee with to wake up properly, then we queued. We met and joked with students in the queue around us and showed off the mark on our thumbs for days.
During the next elections, I was a journalist in Tzaneen and voted at the same station as the mayor (whom I intercepted and happily posed for a photo). I was once again stuck in a queue for some time, after making my rounds of my other assigned voting stations and taking photos of voters of various ages, ethnicity and opinions.
This time I was alone, but quickly struck up a conversation with the people around me.
Three years later, I was a Lowveld Media journalist living in White River. Much wiser and more experienced. I knew politicians and party agents and had grown more sceptical about the whole process.
In-between election-coverage duties for the Lowvelder (which consisted of driving around to voting stations in Mbombela, taking pictures and asking opinions), I drove back to White River to quickly vote. There were no queues.
However, this time, I had access to the local results centre and had the graveyard shift. I could sit in a room filled with the quiet hum of machinery, the TV on news and the echoing voices of a handful of people and watch as parties gained and lost percentage points.
Being at a results centre, I felt like I was really part of the whole process and in the midst of the action for the first time.
Heading out again to grab a few hours’ sleep before I had to head back to work, I had an amazing view of Mbombela’s lights. I stood for a moment just admiring the velvet-and-glitter landscape and wishing I could capture it on camera.
This year, the whole process was somewhat anti-climatic for me. It was my first elections as an editor of a paper and my first time back in a small town.
I’d been part of a country-wide initiative, where we prayed for South Africa and the elections at 21:00 every night for the past few months, so I was confident that the elections would go well. I just didn’t expect it to be this quiet and uneventful. (Which is a good thing. I’m not complaining!)
I’d waited about 2 minutes at the voting station and had been greeted by several friendly staff during the process, marvelled at the fact that I actually know a candidate (for the first time ever) and made my rounds of the voting stations, chatting to a few party representatives and voters.
Since I’d been hearing that these are the most contested elections since 1994, I’d been expecting much more fuss, something bigger. Instead people had actually exercised their democratic right and taken the best path to making themselves heard.
They’d simply voted.
This makes me excited about our next general elections. If people actually go vote, make their opinions and voices heard in a non-violent manner, what an amazing country we’ll have!
Share your memories of previous elections with me in the comments section below or on the Corridor Gazette facebook page.
