AAA - Another African Adventure

Warden Message
US Embassy Lusaka
October 28, 2008

This message is intended for all American citizens visiting or residing in Zambia… the Embassy advises American citizens to avoid polling and counting stations… the Embassy recommends that Americans avoid these locations until final results are certified and announced. Americans are urged to be aware of their immediate surroundings and to stay informed of current events.

In a recent email survey a friend of mine responded to the following question about me: “Is Janet a rule follower?” Her answer, “Yes, unless new rules need to be created.”

Well, I broke the rules during this election and had a firsthand look at Zambian Politics and the voting process…

It started a few weeks ago while I was in Lusaka. I was at one of the malls in Lusaka and there was a man walking from food stand to food stand with a crowd of people following him. Individuals had their cell phones pressed to his face taking his picture. I finally couldn’t resist and asked a bystander who the man was. “It’s Sata.” Enough said. Sata is one of the leading candidates for President of Zambian in the October 30^th Elections.

I was amazed at how this man could walk the public areas of the capital city of Zambia and feel safe. No obvious bodyguards around and people were within inches of him. He didn’t seem to mind. He really seemed to enjoy the attention.

My next encounter with a presidential candidate was two days before the elections, October 28. On this day “HH” (Hichilema Hakainde) a native Tongan (the local tribe in the Zimba area) excited the town with his presence. Because he is Tongan they feel like he is their brother, one of them. HH held a rally where he encouraged the voters to vote for him. There was singing, dancing and drumming. It was a very festive occasion.

You’ve probably guessed by now, I did not heed earlier warnings from the Embassy to stay away. History was in the making and I wanted to be a part of it. I found one of my “sons” and asked him to escort me to the rally. Oscar is 25 years old, a college graduate waiting for a job and an avid football fan (soccer). I lavished the sunscreen lotion, put a hat on, grabbed my camera and walked confidently with Oscar by my side.

The people were at their best. The women were singing and using traditional yells while the men danced around the drummers. As word spread that HH was coming, a crowd marched up the street to join him as he walked through the town and to the council building where he addressed the community. Cars were decorated with signs and red tape. Several were following the crowd honking their horns.

HH is a young man (46) and is referred to as the “Zambian Obama.” The people of Zambia want change and many believe it will only come from someone younger than their traditional presidents. The other candidates are each 71. Some have reported him to be one of the richest Zambians and his campaign has played on this by announcing that his presidential salary will be used for the Zambian youth and women.

I didn’t have the experience of actually seeing the other leading candidate in person. Rupiah Banda was the Vice President serving under the deceased President Levy Mwanawasa. Since the Vice President is appointed and not elected as our VP in the states is, he is only serving as acting President until the elections. The next regularly scheduled presidential elections in Zambia are not until 2011.

Just as many people vote along party lines in the USA so goes the politics here in Zambia. Zambians love their politics almost as much as their football. I would say most Zambians are better informed than a large percentage of the citizens of the United States. Unfortunately, tribal connections play a more important role to those who are not as informed. Therefore, the people living in the “bush” (remote areas of Africa) and don’t have access to the local news, usually vote for their tribal brother.

A few weeks ago, several of my friends at the hospital were nominated to attend a workshop to learn how to setup and supervise the polling stations. After two days of training and a final test that eliminated those not needed, each of the chosen individuals was given their polling station assignments. This is not Memphis where one was sent to East Memphis, another to Germantown and another to Bartlett, etc. Zimba is a “village on the road” and their “suburbs” are in the bush. The roads or lack of roads require that each person helping with the polling stations travel to their station the night before, spend the night and then return home after the polls close and the counting has been completed.

My friends, Mr. Khondowe (the hospital administrator) and Steve Mapanza (a hospital clinical officer), were assigned to a village called Nikabimba. Now transportation is not provided to the poll workers and most people here don’t have vehicles. Mr. Khondowe and I talked about using my vehicle to go to his post. He explained it as very far in the bush and he kept asking me if my car was 4WD. It is. I thought it would be a great opportunity to see an area of Zambia that I had not seen. I agreed to take them on Wednesday and return to pick them up Thursday after the polls closed.

We left Wednesday morning around 9am. I had been told by one of the hospital drivers that it would be about 2 ½ hours to the place and of course, 2 ½ hours back. That’s okay, I’d be back in Zimba by mid afternoon and would still be able to get some work done.

I’ve lived in Zambia long enough to know better…

Now what I didn’t know is that no one in Zimba had ever been to Nikabimba. They knew what direction it as in but didn’t really know how to get there. Zambian people are friendly and the men here don’t mind asking for directions. No problem.

After two hours of driving on a bumpy, part gravel, part dirt road we arrived in Kanyanga. Here we asked for directions and the locals looked at my RAV4, asked if we were going in it and then shook their head. I knew we were in trouble. What I didn’t know was that the shaking of the head was also because they really didn’t know where Nikabima was either. They knew you had to pass through their town to get there but just how much further it was, they had no idea.

We continued in the direction they pointed and came to the next school of Siajumba. Here the headmaster of the school also admitted he had never been to our destination but that one of his students lived “near” there. Clever (that’s his name) climbed in the vehicle with us to guide us. We hadn’t gone too far when he asked us where we wanted to go… we had passed the road a couple of kms back.

We turned around and started in the “right” direction. We drove through an old field and over a stream and finally ended up on the “main road”. I use quotes because I have a hard time calling any of these trails “roads.” I’ve horse backed rode on better terrain. Each turn I thought would get better…

We arrived in Nikabimba at 1:30 pm 100 kms (approximately 64 miles) later after crossing two dry sandy river beds, one rocky incline, a flat rock river bed and using more than ½ of the petrol we started with. At one point I was trying to decide when I would say I couldn’t go any further. I was worried I wouldn’t have enough gas to get back to Zimba. I decided to turn the air conditioner off to reserve fuel. Let me tell you, there are no BP’s or Exxon’s in the bush.

Now, I thought it was just this little city girl... oops, this old city woman... who was amazed at the terrain but when we arrived the Zambian passengers commented on the remote location and what we had traveled through. They had never been to such a rough place. We decided that rather than put my car through the wear and tear of returning the next day that one of the hospital drivers could pick up Mr. Khondowe and Steve the next day.

Now, I forgot to mention that Oscar from the political rally escorted me so that I wouldn’t travel back to Zimba alone. Oscar was amazing… we had to follow our own tracks back to Zimba. We would come to a fork in the road and he would look for the tire marks to determine which direction to continue. Oscar also would get out of the car and direct me through the sand and up the sides of the dry rivers. It was an AAA (Another African Adventure). Oscar and I arrived back in Zimba around 6:30pm.

The next day, I tried to contact the hospital drivers. Each had volunteered to help at polling stations. One was an observer for one of the parties (to make sure everything was A-OK) and the other was in another village serving as a monitor. Neither could leave until the polls closed.

From my experience the previous day, it was obvious that whoever was to travel to Nikabimba needed to do so before dark. I made the executive decision at 1pm to get the keys from the hospital driver, use the hospital vehicle (a brand new Toyotal Hilux) and have Oscar escort me once again. I loaded the cooler with cold drinks and water for the people I had left the day before. I knew with no electricity (did I mention it was a very remote place) that they would be happy for a cold drink. They would not be able to leave until the counting was finished I also grabbed two flashlights since we would be traveling back in the dark.

I now understand what mothers mean when they say that God doesn’t allow them to remember the pain associated with childbirth so that they will do it again... I didn’t remember how bad it really was. As we returned to Nikabimba I kept asking Oscar, are you sure we did this yesterday? Are you sure we are on the right “road” (path). He assured me to continue. I don’t know if it was the difference in the vehicles or if I just didn’t remember but I decided I had to be crazy to do this two days in a row. My goal was to arrive in Nikabimba before dark so that we would not have to cross any of the “tricky” areas in the dark twice. We didn’t quite make it. We had the final crossing of the flat rock river bed after sunset. I was exhausted once reaching Nikabimba but was energized by the adrenaline flowing through my body.

I told my friend, Khondowe, that I must really like him to have gone through this for him. He laughed and expressed his gratitude. He and Steve had slept in an unfinished house with no roof, no doors and no beds. They actually slept on cardboard boxes. Steve slept near the door and feared snakes all night. Mr. Khondowe had brought a tent but would not use it because the other poll supervisors did not have equal accommodations. All the poll workers were happy to see my cooler of cold drinks.

They were not finished counting so I was able to observe the process. Each voter had been given a paper ballot with the four candidates listed in rows. Each row had a picture of the candidate, his name, his party icon and the party name. The voter was to put a large X next the candidate of choice. After choosing the candidate the ballot was placed in a big plastic tub with a slot in the top.

When the polls closed at 6pm, the counting began. Ballots for each candidate was place in stacks and then counted and recorded. The counted ballots were placed in envelopes marked for each candidate and sealed. The sealed envelopes were placed in the empty ballot tub and then sealed with plastic seals. A police officer escorted the person with the ballot box to the district election commission where the ballots would be counted again.

At 9 pm the results of the 67 (yes, I said sixty-seven) votes were announced. HH was the favorite in Nikabimba. Not a surprise since we were in Tonga land.

The convoy headed back to civilization. The driver of the police escort wanted to follow me since… why I don’t know but ... whatever… Remember it is dark now and we have to follow our own tracks… My neck hurt, my right ankle started cramping and I was hungry. I had not eaten since breakfast. I had brought some peanut butter and crackers but shared them with the poll workers and didn’t get any before it was all gone. I did remember along the way back that I had brought some oranges and was able to eat half an orange (I shared the oranges also). We had plenty of water though and that was the most important thing.

We arrived back in Zimba at 3 am. I was exhausted. I came into the house, sat on the couch to check my email before going to bed. I woke up Friday morning still on the couch, in my dress, holding the blanket I meant to cover myself with. The phone started ringing at 730 am and the children were playing on my front porch at 8 am. So much for sleeping late…

Well, I survived the AAA but we still don’t know the results of the elections. It is Friday night around 11:30pm as I write this and Sata is ahead… maybe we'll know tomorrow.

Interesting information about the Zambian Elections:

• The election had to occur within 90 days of the deceased President’s date of death. Not really enough time to encourage voter participation.
• It is estimated that less than 50% of the eligible 3.9 million voters have voted in this election.
• Only voters registered in the 2006 Presidential elections are eligible to vote. No new registrations were accepted.
• Eligible voters can only vote in the area they are registered in. There are no absentee ballots.If you have relocated since 2006 you must travel to the area you are registered in to vote. You cannot update your registration card until the next scheduled National elections.
• Since most people in Zambia are poverty stricken, travel is a luxury and therefore many voters who are qualified to vote but have relocated since 2006 were not be able to vote.
• Many people have lost/misplaced their registration cards and cannot vote without it.
• Some of the poll workers (specifically Mr. Khondowe and Steve) were unable to vote because the district ran out of authorization letters required in order for them to vote outside their area.
• Government workers refuse to attend political rallies held by candidates other than the ruling party out of fear of losing their government jobs should the ruling party be reelected.
• In Nikabimba there were 80 eligible voters. Sixty-seven (67) cast their ballots and most walked at least two hours to do so.

A side note:
I cast my vote for the US President on October 22 from Zambia. I have never felt more privileged to vote after having experienced the voting and political process here. Especially since I was able to vote thousands of miles away from the country, much less the city I am registered to vote in. For all the faults the USA has, I feel blessed to be a citizen of a country that has the advantages we do. I realize that if I don’t vote I have no right to complain when decisions are made that I don’t agree with. Voting is a right of every United States citizen and we should not take this right for granted.

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Election Update:

Rupiah Banda was sworn in as the new President of Zambia on Sunday, November 2, 2008. They don't waste time here... someone may change their mind!