“Just witnessing history”

A GSGC volunteer observes the recent Zimbabwe elections

Checking my hometown primary election returns online a few days ago got me thinking again about the July 30 presidential election here in Zimbabwe. I was lucky to be with Global Sojourns Giving Circle in Victoria Falls for the landmark event, and that I was allowed in the voting room, I was told, is a hopeful sign.

I went with my hosts, Blessing and Simba, to their local primary school to cast their votes. Schools closed two weeks early to accommodate the elections — one for president, one for members of parliament and one for local officials. The presidential election took center stage — it was the first in 37 years without Robert Mugabe’s name on the ballot. He had been ousted in November, and his former colleague, Emerson D. Mnangagwa, had been serving as interim president and was running to hold the office for the next five-year term.

On Friday, his election was affirmed by the Constitutional Court following a legal challenge by his primary opponent.

Victoria Falls is tucked into a national park, and around town, candidate posters were taped to trees or walls meant to keep elephants out of front yards. Often, a large poster illustrating the voting process was displayed inches away. Everyone wants change. Everyone wants Zimbabwe to rise above the failed policies and institutionalized corruption of the Mugabe regime. Mnangagwa of the Zanu PF party and main opposition candidate Nelson Chamisa of the MDC party offered divergent paths forward: steady economic growth or sweeping change, respectively. People wore hope on their sleeves.

Outside the school’s polling place door, men stood in one line and women in another. A young man wearing a bright pink tie, an identification badge and an official yellow vest approached me and asked how old I am. Odd question, I thought, and I must have looked confused. He joked that he was 63, and when I said, “You look great for 63,” the ice was broken.

I told him that while I am indeed a senior citizen, I was there with my friend and wasn’t qualified to vote in this election. OK, he said with a smile.

Blessing explained that the elderly, pregnant women, women carrying children and nursing mothers could go to the head of the line. My gray hair had given me away. Apparently the official with the pink tie figured I was an old Zimbabwean ready to help shape a new government. A former British colony, Zimbabwe has a mix of residents.

Some voters were dressed up. Other came in work shirts emblazoned with a local safari company name. An avocado salesman parked his fruit-laden wheelbarrow in the grass nearby and lined up.

When Blessing and I got to the front of the line, she showed her identification card and walked across the room to where six people sat behind tables. I explained to the man at the door that I was here with a friend, I’m visiting from America, and just wanted to observe the process. OK, he said quietly, then checked quickly with the woman at a table to the right of the door. She welcomed me into the room, asked me to sign in, and cautioned me not to take photos. I’d anticipated that and kept my smartphone in my bag. Where the visitors log had space to explain why I was there, I wrote, “Just witnessing history.” Then I took a seat along the wall and watched.

Voters walked down the row of officials at tables. One confirmed their voter registration. Another warned them not to speak to anyone until they leave the building. Another instructed them on which completed ballot to put in which plastic tub. Another swabbed the left little fingernail of each voter with a permanent marker to prevent repeat voting. Later that day, photos of little fingers tinted by markers were posted across social media.

The four voting booths were tall, three-sided cardboard structures with a Zimbabwe Elections Commission logo on the outside. They were set up with the open side facing the back wall. People disappeared behind them, then reemerged to deposit their marked ballots in what looked like big, clear Tupperware or Costco plastic bins — each secured by several zip ties and metal locks. Every once and a while, the woman official at the front door would walk over to the bins and shake them, making room for more ballots. After Blessing was finished, I signed out, and we went to the car to wait for Simba; the men’s line was longer than the women’s line.

When Simba joined us, I told him the officials had allowed me to watch the voting process. Simba was born under British rule, lived through the 1980 revolution and survived nearly four decades of Mugabe’s oppressive regime; he told me, “Your mere presence in the room is progress.”

While we were at the Baobab Primary School polling station, lines totaled perhaps 60 voters; Blessing and Simba live in a low density area of a tourist city. The process for them took about 45 minutes. Conditions elsewhere were more challenging. A friend of Blessing’s went to the polls when they opened at 7 am. People had lined up at 5 am, and it took her more than two hours to get in and out.

The returns took days to be finalized. Trouble broke out in the capital, Harare, and six people were killed. I’ve received four cautionary emails from the US Embassy in Harare, warning to stay inside or stick to safe routes.

Two days ago, the Constitutional Court heard Chamisa’s legal challenge to the election results; the challenge had delayed Mnangagwa’s inauguration.

People have been glued to the news. They are hopeful the streets will remain quiet and positive change will finally come to Zimbabwe. “We’re all in this together,” they say.

After reading a long ruling that declared Mnangagwa the duly elected president of Zimbabwe, Chief Justice Luke Malaba praised the talented young attorneys who presented the candidates’ divergent arguments.

“At the end of the day, we’re all citizens of this country,” Malaba said, dismissing the court.

— Holley Gilbert GSGC secretary