MY FIRST VOTING DAY: THE DAY I WAITED 10 HOURS TO SEE MADIBA SMILE AT ME!
It was not just a vote. It was freedom. It was payback. It was history.
I joined a very long queue at Siamisang Primary School. The line was about 250 metres long, snaking like a giant python around the school yard. But I didn't mind. I had waited long enough in my life to see the apartheid government gone. I had waited 26 years.
I was with a group of my friends. I had about R35 in my pocket and a cold one hidden in the back. We were young, we were thirsty, but we were determined.
An old man approached us and warned us not to get drunk because we would end up voting for the wrong party.
We responded politely, with respect: "Mdala, don't worry, we will not make that mistake, but we are just making sure we remove the thirst because we have been here since 4:30am."
Some of the people had even slept there overnight. They brought blankets and braziers. It was a dream come true.
Everyone wanted a democratically elected government. For the first time in our lives, we were not baas boys - we were citizens.
The majority of South Africans wanted the old government to pack their bags and leave the Union Buildings.
We were tired of pass laws, tired of detention, tired of being strangers in our own land.
That was 6 years before ama2000 were born. Everyone was dreaming of a New South Africa, the Rainbow Nation that Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela had promised us.
I stood in that long queue which was moving like a chameleon on the National Geographic channel. From 4:30am until 2pm, we shuffled forward, inch by inch.
The sun was brutal. The dust was everywhere. But no one complained. No one left the queue.
At around 2pm, I was a little bit drunk after having four brown cold ones on an empty stomach.
To kill the hunger, I bought an apple and a banana with R1 from an old woman who was selling fruits under a tree.
She was also in the queue business - selling to voters. That was true kasi economy.
"This queue is moving slowly, I don't mind waiting even a month on this line. I want the National Party gone," said Sello, my friend. His voice was hoarse from singing freedom songs.
He was interrupted by Fanie who said, "We must be ready, I don't think right-wingers will allow an ANC government in this country.
Let's be preparing for war and don't relax because I smell war..."
We were all scared. You must remember, in 1994, there was real fear. The AWB had stormed the World Trade Centre.
There were bombings. The IFP and ANC were fighting in KZN. The fear of a right-wing coup was real.
He was interrupted by Sello, "Why did the ANC suspend the armed struggle? They have sold us."
I told them I cannot predict the future but we need to be positive because enough people have died before casting their votes. "Comrades died in exile, in detention, in the streets. Let's honour them by being positive."
"Let's forget about negative things and make sure we vote Nelson Mandela into power and see the first black president who is elected democratically," I said.
But Sello disagreed, "Yes, we are going to vote, but what if they cook the votes or they overthrow the new government within a month? Let's wait and see."
Our heated debate, which I thought would not end well, was interrupted at 3pm when officials came and cut the line. We were told to get into a bus.
We were going to vote in Soshanguve. Siamisang was overcrowded. The IEC was overwhelmed.
We got into a bus and were taken to Tiyelelani Secondary School in Soshanguve where the queue was better, shorter, and moving faster.
Within an hour, I was inside the voting station. My heart was beating like a drum. I produced my ID, it was stamped, and they marked my nail with indelible ink.
That black mark was a badge of honour. I was given two ballot papers ,one for the National Government and one for the Provincial Government.
I started with the provincial government ballot paper. That was way back when Gauteng was still called the PWV province - Pretoria-Witwatersrand-Vereeniging.
And yes, we were taken from North West to vote in another province? The demarcations were confusing, but we didn't care. We just wanted to vote.
I knew which party I was voting for. I just made my cross next to the African National Congress. No hesitation.
Then I held the next ballot paper which was longer than the provincial government ballot paper. It was like a bed sheet! The national ballot.
It was for the first time that I saw so many politicians smiling at me, all at once, begging for my X.
I looked at Moruti Kenneth Meshoe of the ACDP. I liked the way he smiled at me.
Then I moved to the bottom where the sticker of Umtwana ka Phindangene Mangosuthu Buthelezi, the leader of the Inkatha Freedom Party, was pasted.
His smile was also convincing, but I moved back to the top and saw FW De Klerk of the National Party.
He was also smiling at me, looking for my vote. I moved up where I saw Dikwankwetla Party's Charles Mopeli also smiling at me. I was also impressed by the smile of Amichand Rajbansi of the Minority Front...
I was impressed to see so many smiles, but then I came across the smile that made me stop looking at all the other smiles.
All these smiles nearly convinced me to vote for all of them. I fell in love with them for a second, but then something came back to me.
I remembered how I was detained without trial. I remembered how I survived the hunger strike. I remembered how I was brutally assaulted for being active in politics.
I remembered how I was brutally assaulted by police for taking pictures.
I remembered the Winterveldt Massacre. I remembered how Lucas Motshabanosi, Morgan Kaka Mtsweni and many others died for me to cast this vote...
Their blood was the ink that made this ballot possible.
I stood there for about 6 minutes and I was told, "You are wasting time, there is a long queue outside..." I replied, "I have waited long enough for this day, please don't rush me. I still can't believe it is happening."
I looked at Madiba, Nelson Mandela, smiling at me... That was the first time I felt the Madiba magic in my body. I had a moment of silence for about 30 seconds. I grabbed the black pen, I smiled back at Madiba, I could see he was smiling back at me... "Ehh banna, how," I said, talking to myself... I placed my cross next to Madiba. That was my contribution to the first democratically elected government.
On 10 May 1994, he was inaugurated. We had a black president.
I went back to the bus and met my friends. I told them about the smiles I saw on the ballot paper and they made jokes that some were crocodile smiles.
Fast forward to Local Government Elections in 2026. I feel disappointed with the present ANC leadership for failing the people. Service delivery is collapsing. Water is scarce. Lights are off. The dream of 1994 feels betrayed for many of us who stood in those long queues.
Does the ANC deserve to be given a chance? I cannot decide for the people, but I will give it a chance for the last, last, last time... Because everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone makes a mistake, no one is perfect.
Lastly, South Africa is a democratic state. Everyone has the right to choose which party to vote for without any fear or threats. That is what we fought for in that queue at Siamisang in 1994.
Don't waste your vote. I didn't wait 10 hours for you to stay at home.
About the writer: Africa Ka Mahamba is the editor of City Post. The views expressed in this column are the writer's own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication.
