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Why I didn't vote on Wednesday
Barbara Gloudon
Friday, December 07, 2007
UNTIL WEDNESDAY, December 5, 2007, I regarded myself as a model citizen, conscious of the responsibility to contribute to the advancement of the democratic process.
Up until Wednesday, I did not hesitate to lecture others who admitted that they do not vote. It was an opportunity to "mount on my high horse" and badger them about failing the nation, about treating lightly the privilege gained for us through the blood, sweat and tears of our forefathers, blah-blah-blah. It was easy to be smug and self-righteous.
On Wednesday, December 5, the unthinkable happened. I climbed down from my pedestal. I did not vote. Despite lectures to myself, I could not bring myself to enter the polling station, although it was directly in my way as I went about my business. The last time I'd passed by, the gate was wide open. There was no crowd with which to contend, unlike September 3, and still I couldn't make the step.
On that occasion I did my duty, although it took patience and self-control to stand in line for far too long. For what it's worth, you should know that eventually my façade of reasonableness cracked. My protests against standing and sweating in the morning sun eventually caught the attention of the supervisory team. Following their intervention, the line got moving and I and others were able to participate in the "red-finger" ritual.
On Wednesday though, all 10 of my fingers remained ink-free. Why didn't I vote? Why did I give up my status as "model citizen"? Because I did not know who I was supposed to vote for. None of the political parties considered me - and members of my family - worthy of being informed of their candidates. Apparently, I was supposed to proceed in blind faith because "dem sey so".
You could say it was I who should have taken the trouble to find out about the candidates, not just on the day of voting but long before, if only to alleviate my growing resentment at the way my community is deteriorating, with no relief in sight. You're right, but I was fed-up.
Do you have the time to hear about the bridge which is the one-way in and one-way out for us and other communities and which is becoming more shabby and untrustworthy-looking day by day? Or, how about the fording across the community river, which is in such a bad state that drivers have to exercise the utmost dexterity to avoid destruction of their vehicles and threat to their lives?
Do you want to hear about the ever-present potholes and should I tell you about the road on which I live which has been so broken up by the recent rains, that some residents have difficulty getting to their doors? There's much more, if you want to know about a once idyllic community slowly crumbling under the weight of neglect.
IN THE DAYS leading up to Wednesday, I thought over and again, who is going to save my community? I asked myself, when I put my finger in the ink at the polling station, will the person for whom I vote recognise the concerns of my neighbours and myself? I had absolutely no idea what plans he/she had to stop the decay in the community. Did he/she intend to engage the residents in the restoration? What visions did he/she have why he/she deserved my vote?
Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I really couldn't vote. and I didn't. So now I'm left to wonder, what's to become of my community? Will the person who has been elected to represent us finally bring the hope we need? Would it have made any difference if I had voted?
WEDNESDAY was not only non-voting day (for some), but it was the time of a media kerfuffle - and in Journalism Week at that. It came about when members of the Media Association of Jamaica (comprised of media managers) baulked at the demand of the Electoral Office of Jamaica (EOJ) for payment, enabling access to the online results of the day's polling, a facility which made it possible for results to be transmitted to the public more quickly. The alternative was free, but slower and more cumbersome.
It turns out that at the time of the September elections, the EOJ had initiated a similar payment system for media use of its online services.
There were no complaints then, because the media houses were able to recover the expenditure from the windfall of political advertising.
Local government elections do not hold the same attraction, however.
Recovering half-a-million dollars (which is about what a TV entity would have had to expend) didn't make sense. So they made their protest.
Mr Danville Walker, EOJ director, dismissed the MAJ's cries about encroaching on press freedom and the right of free access to public information. The MAJ argued that it was taxpayers' money which funded the EOJ, in which case it shouldn't require payment for media access to the information to which the EOJ retorted, why was there no protest in September?
Consequently, there was no election night ongoing coverage of the results, none of the drama of results coming in from polling stations and analyses by instant experts. In case you didn't know, Freedom of the Press is not only about access, it is also very much about who can pay. Freedom doesn't mean freeniss, my old tutor used to say.
BLOOD-THIRST: It is too painful to consider - the wave of blood which has been washing over us in recent days. The body count is too awful to contemplate, but there is no escaping.
Why some of our own people, members of the same tribe, would have such a blood-thirst is beyond comprehension. The harsh truth is that our present leadership is no more capable than their predecessors of putting an end to this madness and degrading behaviour. This war is not partial. It is going to take the combined effort of ALL OF US.
FORCE ON FORCE: The new Commissioner of Police (Hardley Lewin) comes straight from the army, which is admired for its rigid discipline. Town talk is that the army and the police should now be welded into one national security force, capable of meeting the criminals head-on.
Meanwhile, calls go up for the resumption of hanging, public flogging and the cat-o-nine. The reality is that no one seems to know how to reach the cold hearts of the assassins among us. Every life is important, but the attacks on the police are especially worrying. We need hope - and we need it fast.
PS To friends and family overseas... despite all of this, our spirits are not broken... and Christmas has not been postponed.
gloudonb@yahoo.com
Barbara Gloudon
Friday, December 07, 2007
UNTIL WEDNESDAY, December 5, 2007, I regarded myself as a model citizen, conscious of the responsibility to contribute to the advancement of the democratic process.
Up until Wednesday, I did not hesitate to lecture others who admitted that they do not vote. It was an opportunity to "mount on my high horse" and badger them about failing the nation, about treating lightly the privilege gained for us through the blood, sweat and tears of our forefathers, blah-blah-blah. It was easy to be smug and self-righteous.
On Wednesday, December 5, the unthinkable happened. I climbed down from my pedestal. I did not vote. Despite lectures to myself, I could not bring myself to enter the polling station, although it was directly in my way as I went about my business. The last time I'd passed by, the gate was wide open. There was no crowd with which to contend, unlike September 3, and still I couldn't make the step.
On that occasion I did my duty, although it took patience and self-control to stand in line for far too long. For what it's worth, you should know that eventually my façade of reasonableness cracked. My protests against standing and sweating in the morning sun eventually caught the attention of the supervisory team. Following their intervention, the line got moving and I and others were able to participate in the "red-finger" ritual.
On Wednesday though, all 10 of my fingers remained ink-free. Why didn't I vote? Why did I give up my status as "model citizen"? Because I did not know who I was supposed to vote for. None of the political parties considered me - and members of my family - worthy of being informed of their candidates. Apparently, I was supposed to proceed in blind faith because "dem sey so".
You could say it was I who should have taken the trouble to find out about the candidates, not just on the day of voting but long before, if only to alleviate my growing resentment at the way my community is deteriorating, with no relief in sight. You're right, but I was fed-up.
Do you have the time to hear about the bridge which is the one-way in and one-way out for us and other communities and which is becoming more shabby and untrustworthy-looking day by day? Or, how about the fording across the community river, which is in such a bad state that drivers have to exercise the utmost dexterity to avoid destruction of their vehicles and threat to their lives?
Do you want to hear about the ever-present potholes and should I tell you about the road on which I live which has been so broken up by the recent rains, that some residents have difficulty getting to their doors? There's much more, if you want to know about a once idyllic community slowly crumbling under the weight of neglect.
IN THE DAYS leading up to Wednesday, I thought over and again, who is going to save my community? I asked myself, when I put my finger in the ink at the polling station, will the person for whom I vote recognise the concerns of my neighbours and myself? I had absolutely no idea what plans he/she had to stop the decay in the community. Did he/she intend to engage the residents in the restoration? What visions did he/she have why he/she deserved my vote?
Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I really couldn't vote. and I didn't. So now I'm left to wonder, what's to become of my community? Will the person who has been elected to represent us finally bring the hope we need? Would it have made any difference if I had voted?
WEDNESDAY was not only non-voting day (for some), but it was the time of a media kerfuffle - and in Journalism Week at that. It came about when members of the Media Association of Jamaica (comprised of media managers) baulked at the demand of the Electoral Office of Jamaica (EOJ) for payment, enabling access to the online results of the day's polling, a facility which made it possible for results to be transmitted to the public more quickly. The alternative was free, but slower and more cumbersome.
It turns out that at the time of the September elections, the EOJ had initiated a similar payment system for media use of its online services.
There were no complaints then, because the media houses were able to recover the expenditure from the windfall of political advertising.
Local government elections do not hold the same attraction, however.
Recovering half-a-million dollars (which is about what a TV entity would have had to expend) didn't make sense. So they made their protest.
Mr Danville Walker, EOJ director, dismissed the MAJ's cries about encroaching on press freedom and the right of free access to public information. The MAJ argued that it was taxpayers' money which funded the EOJ, in which case it shouldn't require payment for media access to the information to which the EOJ retorted, why was there no protest in September?
Consequently, there was no election night ongoing coverage of the results, none of the drama of results coming in from polling stations and analyses by instant experts. In case you didn't know, Freedom of the Press is not only about access, it is also very much about who can pay. Freedom doesn't mean freeniss, my old tutor used to say.
BLOOD-THIRST: It is too painful to consider - the wave of blood which has been washing over us in recent days. The body count is too awful to contemplate, but there is no escaping.
Why some of our own people, members of the same tribe, would have such a blood-thirst is beyond comprehension. The harsh truth is that our present leadership is no more capable than their predecessors of putting an end to this madness and degrading behaviour. This war is not partial. It is going to take the combined effort of ALL OF US.
FORCE ON FORCE: The new Commissioner of Police (Hardley Lewin) comes straight from the army, which is admired for its rigid discipline. Town talk is that the army and the police should now be welded into one national security force, capable of meeting the criminals head-on.
Meanwhile, calls go up for the resumption of hanging, public flogging and the cat-o-nine. The reality is that no one seems to know how to reach the cold hearts of the assassins among us. Every life is important, but the attacks on the police are especially worrying. We need hope - and we need it fast.
PS To friends and family overseas... despite all of this, our spirits are not broken... and Christmas has not been postponed.
gloudonb@yahoo.com
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