I exercised the right to vote

Francesca Villette

THE sun illuminated through my window as I woke with a joy I had never experienced before.

“Today is our day,” I thought.

I rushed to get ready for one of the most momentous occasions for all South Africans.

I hurried to wake my brother, Alexander, who is also a born free, and spurred him on to get dressed.

In my red Opel, we made our way down to our voting station, Alexander still wiping the sleep from his eyes. Excited to make my cross, I rushed past the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) official waiting to scan my bar-coded ID.

He called me back and I apologetically told him I had never done this before.

Alexander shook his head. He knows how carried away I can get. The official handed us our slips and we walked anxiously toward the hall.

I was somewhat disappointed when I saw no more than 20 people in front of us. Long queues and coffee is what I had always associated with election time. I wanted that experience.

But despite the disappointment, we were there. Ready to make history.

As if reading my mind, an old man aged about 70, shared in my disappointment at the turn-out.

“Last time, the queue wormed all the way towards the school,” he said.

“My wife went to Suikerbekkie – a cake shop – and bought us doughnuts and coffee. Those were the days.”

I sighed.

Alexander noticed an old friend and went over to greet her.

Standing alone, my eyes began to wander. I noticed people sporting the colours of the different parties and a father explaining to his daughter what was to happen next.

Only two people to go.

Alexander, as persistent as he is, tried until the last minute to find out who I was going to vote for.

“Wouldn’t you love to know,” I smirked and pushed him in front of me.

As we admired the marks on our left thumbs, the lady behind the counter repeated the words: “Pink-provincial, blue-national” to indicate the relevant ballot papers.

I took the two folded pieces of paper and slowly peeked at the voting booths to see which one was open.

I walked into the middle one.

“So this is how it looks. This is what it feels like,” I said to myself.

Running my fingers over the 29 spaces, I made my cross on the pink paper and repeated the process with the blue.

I made sure to push my ballots deep inside the ballot boxes – I wanted nothing to happen to those two pieces of paper.

I noticed Alexander waiting for me at the door.

“And?” he asked.

I couldn’t hide the joy on my face and sighed with delight.

Silence followed us on the way home – both of us filled with emotion.

We did it.

Together, two born frees, were able to exercise a right that many had died for.

l Villette is a journalism student at the Cape Peninsula University of Technology doing a 12-month internship at the Cape Times.