on voting day

In 1994, with South Africa's first democratic election looming, I became eligible to vote for the first time. In the run-up to polling day, my right-wing father was determined to impress upon me the importance of exercising this newfound privilege. If you don't vote, he said, you can't complain. He delivered the lesson with considerable conviction.He would not have approved of the transformation that followed that watershed election. I suppose it is just as well he did not live to see how the government of oppression simply became one of corruption. The state of the country today would have saddened him, I'm sure. Nevertheless, his words stuck, and I have never missed an election since.Thirty-two years later, we went to the polls again for the 2026 local government elections, and I duly continued my unblemished voting record.I got up at the usual weekday hour this morning, and Eva and I set off for our walk around five. Back home 25 minutes later, I went through my familiar pre-work…

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