Diary of a first time yuppie voter (Part 2)

April 9 2011

Without really thinking about it, I knew I was not going to the polling unit early. I would pace myself, deal with the household chores, eat breakfast with the family and maybe even do some work. At 11am I toyed with sending a scout ahead to find out what was happening but I decided to take a walk and see for myself. When I got there, everything was set up: the tent, the four tables and seven NYSCINEC officers. There was no queue and it took me all of 2 minutes to finish the process; I took the long route home and was back before 11.30am. I noticed from BB messages and Twitter that voter turn out was low. I called a few election buddies – friends I made from hanging out at the polling booth last Saturday – to let them know that verification was underway, and quick and easy. Most of them had already verified. So I started sending out BB messages asking people to share their impressions about the number of female voters (compared to the number of men) and to let me know the colour of their ballot papers because ballot papers are going to be colour coded to prevent ballot stuffing– or so I was informed.

At 12.30pm, I went back to the polling unit just as voting began. The sun was blazing like the bottom of a pot sitting on hot coal all day and the only hiding place apart from the polling unit tent was a huge generous tree across the road from the tent. I left my chair there and crossed the road to join one of the eight lines. It was fairly orderly because people remembered how we lined up for the verification exercise the week before. There were easily 4 men for every female voter and so our lines were shorter. As piqued as I was about the low number of women, I was partly grateful because it meant the civically responsible women would be done faster and could return home if they wished. At first the lines were hardly moving at all and the air was filled with the sound of complaints and necks stretching to see what was happening in front. We heard that there was only one stamp – to stamp each ballot paper before it was used and only one person signing each ballot paper – making the process incredibly inefficient. Twice, I had to leave the line and take a breather from the sun under the tree; thankfully it was close enough that I could see my line and could gauge when it would be my turn. The second time I left the tree to return to the line was when there was a bit of a commotion and so we rushed back to hear what it was about. Apparently a ‘big man’ had arrived and wanted to go straight to the front of the line and he was shouted down and chased away. The voters were absolutely not having it. Yay! Hurray for democracy – if only we could show this type of discipline and none preferential treatment everyday not just on voting days.

After that, I thought it wise to just stay on the line because as more people joined the queue it was getting harder to keep explaining that I was there before- especially as the person in front of me did not seem to like me leaving her as guard of my space. So I stayed in line and when it was my turn I put on the stopwatch on my phone to see how long it was taking each person to move along the processing line. I stepped forward and gave them the piece of paper they had given me in the morning when I was verified. They checked that my right thumb had been marked blue, put a red mark on my left thumb and asked me to move down to the right of the tent. As I approached the last desk, a policeman waved me to another line – this time unisex. I have a good view of two NYSCINEC officers stamping and signing the ballot papers – they have improved their efficiency. One at a time, we walk up to the desk for one last check of our thumbs and then the two precious ballot papers were handed over.

As I wait for my turn, I have cause to ask the man behind me to please leave more than just room for a strand of hair between us…he seems not to understand me until a man from the adjacent line explains to him. “She wan make you observe sharia”, he says, ‘dress back’. Incredibly, both men and women are guilty of this lack of respect for personal space…wherever there is a queue it seems like an invitation to become the slices of bread for a thinly filled sandwich.

It took me exactly 4.55minutes from the time I left my original line until I got to the ballot papers and entered one of the 4 shiny booths where I could make my selection in private. Way to go INEC. I finally look at my ballot paper and I am in complete shock. It takes me a while to digest what I am looking at. There are no names on the ballot paper? I had expected to ponder over which of the women to vote for but not in my wildest dreams did I expect that I would have only party logo symbols and acronyms to pick from. In befuddled disgust I vote for one of the major parties and wipe my thumb clean to make sure I do not smudge any part of my ballot paper. I am about to fold the paper to hide my vote, when I think to myself, what if the still fresh ink mark creates another smudge on another party? Then my ballot paper would be disqualified. I fold ‘outward’ and drop my ballot papers into the transparent ballot boxes.

My election buddies and I agree to go home and return at 4pm when we were advised that the voting would be over. When I get there, I learn that voting ended at 4.10pm – not bad at all for 594 accredited voters. However, it is almost dark before we can get our results. The counting is a tortuous process and the embrace of the polling unit by the semi circle of human beings sitting on footwear on the road keeps getting tighter. Almost every half hour, the security agents have to keep encouraging them – in a very friendly manner to move back and give the NYSCINEC some air. What took them so long? First they sorted the ballots into House and Senate. Then they counted, and counted and recounted until they found the ‘missing’ ballot paper. Phew. Then they started removing the invalid ballots, then they sorted the ballots into parties (with party agents looking on) and then they started counting.

CPC had the highest number of voter cast ballots in my unit and by 7pm all that remained was the technical aspects such as filling the result sheets, getting the signatures of the party agents and providing copies. I wanted to stay behind until the NYSCINEC posted our results and left the area but after the presiding NYSCINEC made a mistake on the result sheet at 7.30pm…I decided to call it a day.

I learnt a few things today. One, that the electorate is grossly underestimated. A person being illiterate does not mean he cannot be educated about a process. Not having names on the ballot papers aids fraud. If a PDP candidate who has done well for her constituents is cheated out of the primaries and forced to move to another party…how will her constituents know this especially with all the tight timelines? Primaries in January, petitions and lawsuits up until the last minute and elections with only party logos in April? Not fair – this is set up to help powerful parties rig.

Two, there are so many loopholes in our electoral process that we are not going to get 100% free and fair elections in the first try. It will take time but there must be a genuine will, not a will to satisfy what the eyes can see. As the results started trickling out that evening and we heard stories the next day of certain people being declared winners. I had one question. Why did Prof Jega make such a big deal out of asking voters to wait for their vote to be counted if there is no intention to publish the results in detail? Unverifiable results published in ‘bulk’ in a country known for serious electoral fraud is not free and fair. I have been informed that the party agents who signed the result sheets are the verifiers of this result. I have two observations. One, not all parties could afford to have 120,000+ agents covering all the polling units and two, unless each party has copies of all the result sheets from all the polling units – including the allegedly ‘undeclared’ ones – then the results arguably do not add up. I want to see my polling unit results in black and white.

Three, the feeling that voting gives can be addictive. The power to change the course of a nation peacefully is an intoxicating, heart pounding, gut wrenching, tears inducing and awe inspiring thing. When people cheered when the results were announced, I had goose bumps and felt proud to be part of what made so many so happy. The vote is the only peaceful weapon of change, it is the only peaceful weapon for disarming tyrants and dictators, and it is the only peaceful weapon of mass participation. The beauty of the 2011 elections, win or lose is that this knowledge is catching on and will hopefully stay with us for a long time.