Ahmed Abu Ghazala describes his voting experience in Nasr City and Heliopolis and speaks to others who couldn't, or wouldn't, vote It was easy arriving at the Nasr City polling station in the afternoon. I was greeted by a scene at once festive and earnest, though it was clear the rivalry between Sameh Fahmi, candidate of the ruling National Democratic Party (NDP), and Manal Abul-Hassan, Muslim Brotherhood's (MB) candidate, was tense and rising. There was a traffic jam in Nasr Street, and in front of the station it was Fahmi's posters that were most visible. Huge speakers were placed on pick-up trucks to play patriotic songs, interspersed with appeals to voters to choose Fahmi, while clowns carrying placards of Fahmi were cheering and clapping. On both sides of the passage which security personnel had created to let voters pass supporters of Abul-Hassan and Fahmi were busy canvassing, handing out leaflets and extolling the virtues of the candidates. After entering the station there were no obvious signs of how to proceed. A representative of Fahmi presented himself and offered his help. He took my electoral ID and went to a room where one of his colleagues checked its number and told me where I should vote. Abdel-Moneim, Fahmi's representative, said that they provide this service because many of the numbers written on electoral IDs are incorrect. Abdel-Moneim's words echoed in my mind as I watched the crowds outside the nearby police station holding up their IDs and asking where the correct polling station was. I entered my polling station where the head asked for my ID number, showed me my name and asked me to sign, all without checking my electoral or personal ID. I took the voting papers, one regular, the second for the women only seat. There were two curtained off areas for voting, though most people seemed to be sitting around chatting about their choices. It soon became apparent that the candidates for the women only seats were complete unknowns. "Leave that space blank," a man behind me advised. "Women rule us in our homes, isn't that enough? They want to take the parliament too." I left without being asked to dip my finger in the indelible phosphoric ink or having my electoral ID signed by the committee's head to confirm that I had voted. Turning one last time to survey the scene behind me, I thought mostly of the mismanagement of the anti-fraud procedures. Couldn't vote Determined to exercise her political rights and vote in the parliamentary elections, 25-year-old Dina Said went to the polling station at Nasr City in the morning. She entered her committee and told the official her electoral ID number only to find that it listed someone called Fatma. "I voted with the same ID in the Shura Council elections in 2007 at the same committee. I don't know how this happened," she said. The committee's head searched for her name to no avail. He then advised her to go to the nearest police station. She arrived to find 40 or more people asking about their polling stations. Many of them had voted before but could not find their names on the voters' lists though Said was the only one who had voted using her current electoral ID number. After waiting for half an hour her name could not be found on the list of Nasr City voters. She was told to take the issue up with the official in charge of administrative affairs who, instead of taking the situation seriously treated it as a joke, laughing and telling her that nothing could be done. "Come and get a replacement electoral ID in December so you can vote in the presidential elections next year," was his only advice. Wouldn't vote According to the Higher Election Commission 25 per cent of registered voters turned out to vote in the parliamentary elections. Mohamed Hassan was one of the vast majority who opted to stay at home. "I didn't vote, and I won't unless one of my relatives is the candidate," he said. Hassan is in his late 20s. He said that members of his family stood in elections from time to time. He explained that they were the only polls in which he voted, not because he felt his vote could make a difference but out of a sense of family obligation. "The results are always predetermined. Why should I vote then?" he asked. "The ruling National Democratic Party chooses those who will succeed and who won't. We aren't living in the US where citizens can refuse a candidate or shutdown the government because of their dissent." Hassan thinks voting is a futile exercise. Candidates, he says, are concerned only to further their own interests, to the extent that they seldom show up in their constituencies once they have been elected.
