Voting in the Square

By Toni Parsons

My strongest argument for voting abroad has been that it’s the best way to feel involved at home if you aren’t there. Many noises were made about a homecoming revolution sometime ago, and even if the furore has subsided, there are some South Africans out there who still hope that the day is coming where every second person in Wimbledon isn’t South African – and that those South Africans who populate Wimbledon now are living back in SA.

I can’t speak for what it was like for people who voted outside London, but voting in Trafalgar square was up there with the Rugby World Cup Final for making me feel homesick. I’m a bit ahead of myself, so I’ll start with the housekeeping.

I found the preparation process for remote voting to be almost painless with the biggest issue being put on hold on the ‘phone for 14 minutes to South Africa while I waited for confirmation that my VEC10 (the form you need to vote from outside SA) was received and approved.

The DA was the only party that appeared to be doing any kind of campaigning for votes from outside the borders. They deserve a mention for tireless efforts and for what was a notably efficient campaign. They provided up to date information on the court case, responded swiftly and personally to enquiries and supplied links to the VEC10 forms, even going as to offer to fax it through for you. This was obviously accompanied by emails requesting money to fund their campaign, but it needs to be said that no other party seemed interested in either my money or my vote.

On the day, with an expected 7,500 voters expected, I anticipated arriving at work well after lunch time. Greeted at Trafalgar square by lines ten people wide, stretching along the side up to the end of the block, yellow police tape and protest style barriers up – the whole shebang- I asked the bobby if this was the queue. Nope. Apparently that queue up the other side, ten wide and stretching along the front of the national museum was where the end of the queue was. Oh excellent. I promptly called the boss explaining that even arriving after lunch was looking a little dubious.

In the queue, I was assailed by all manner of South African handouts – bright blue fizzers stapled to newspapers included. The plus was that the ‘take one pass along’ approach gave the London-hardened a window to have a chat. Which is what South Africans rock at. And chat on we did – about going home, about the future prospects for SA, about living in London. Generally, we did the whole spectrum of what is fabulous and what is terrible about SA, and what it’s like to live in London. I saw people tag teaming to queue up and getting coffee delivered from the local Pret to make the wait a bit easier.

The things that stand out from the day: everyone who came to vote in green rugby jerseys – and those who brought the vuvuzela’s along just ‘sommer’. The absolute efficiency of the election staff who were polite, friendly and generally outstanding all the time I was there. That they let the elderly, the mothers (and accompanying fathers – sneaky), and those who had other reasons for not being able to wait go in a fast track for the voting.I prefer not to wait in queues with crying kids, so the fast track pleased everyone.

The enthusiastic DA staff handing out VEC1 forms (necessary for voting on the day, and different from VEC10 apparently) and DA manifestos to those in the queue; the ACDC representatives in their red t-shirts handing out information with big smiles.

With the efficiency of the process, that massive queue eventually amounted to not even an hour’s wait. I was at work only half an hour late, long before anyone imagined I would be. I was there only for a short time and in the morning, so perhaps I missed some campaigning. That evening, a friend showed me a video on his phone of ANC campaigners toyi-toying in the square. I would love to have seen which parties had campaigners there throughout the day, and what they did.

Overall, the experience did more for me and for my feelings about going home than I imagined. I wanted to have a little cry when I stood and looked at the line of ebullient, talkative and undeniably happy people standing waiting to cast their vote. Voting from abroad was never about winning an election for me, but it was about acknowledging fellow South Africans who are absent from the country.

For the voters, it is about feeling a part of a constitution that is far ahead of the rest of the world, and about feeling directly involved with your country. If you care enough to make the effort to vote, by implication you have a vested interest and have a right to a say in who governs.

The bad news is that I live in a house with 3 other South Africans – just one other voted – in South Africa as she was there for a visit. I was at dinner a few days later with 4 other South Africans – I was the only one with the trademarked thumb. One man there didn’t even know we were allowed to vote, although he claims an interest in SA as he own businesses there.

Now that Willem Richter and the court have had their day and we are given the privilege of the vote, I find it almost heartbreaking to meet people who can’t be bothered. One more piece of bad news is that when I looked at my ballot, I realised how little I had been touched by the participating parties, which says something about the respective campaigns.

All round, however, it must be said that this experience was uplifting and without question absolutely positive for South Africa. Well done to the election committee for arranging it so well in such a short time. Willem Richter, if I ever meet you, drinks on me.