It is Saturday morning, February 25th, 2023. I wake up feeling a bit ambivalent. The prevailing question on my mind is – should I vote or should I not? It is 8:30 am. I replay the previous day’s conversation between my husband and me. Our decision was simple; we would not be voting at the polls. I mean the decision was obvious. We live off Chevron Drive and our Polling Units (PUs) are situated at Lekki Phase One. Due to the restriction placed on vehicular movement from 6 am to 6 pm announced the day prior by the Inspector General of Police, Alkali Baba Usman CFR, there was just no way we would be able to vote. Yet, I woke up that morning feeling like a hypocrite. You see, I had spent the last few days asking people if they were going to vote and admonishing them to do so if they had their Permanent Voters Cards (PVCs). I posted marketing flyers of my preferred candidate on my Instagram stories. It was also going to be a first-time voting experience for me. It did not then make sense that I was in bed, scrolling through my phone like it was not election day. I have to find a way, I thought.
In a quick burst of action (which is very much in my nature), I looked at my husband and said, “I am going to vote!” The man looked utterly confused. “I don’t understand. We agreed we won’t vote. How will we get there?” “I will find a way”. I responded. I said “I” so he would not feel obliged to come with me if he did not want to. I got up and started scouring through my wardrobe for the most comfortable clothes. He gets up reluctantly and joins me. Excitedly, I turn to him and tell him just how we will get there. Isoken will drive us through the back roads up until Platinum Way or anywhere we can get to. Then we would walk the rest of the way. Isoken is my sister-in-law who lives with us. The estate where we live maintains a road connection agreement with estates surrounding it in the Agungi area with two exits (located at different points) that lead you either to Ajiran Road, or Circle Mall Road and even further to Palm Springs Road. All you needed was a resident sticker. Regardless, I was determined to walk 10km if I needed to. I used to walk for 11km daily until it became a health risk. As a result, I reduced my walks to 6km daily. So I thought, it cannot be that bad to do so today. It was a matter of great consequence!
It is 9:45 am now. My husband and I are ready. Face caps. Check. Bag packs. Check. Comfortable clothes. Check. Sneakers. Check. Water bottles. Check. Sunscreen. Double check, we literally bathed with it. The sun that day was blazing. Snacks. No check. We did not plan to vote so we did not buy snacks. Isoken gets ready too and grabs the car key. We drive through the back roads as planned up until Kusenla Road at Ikate, Elegushi. The gate that leads you via the Oba’s Palace to Freedom Way was shut. We alight from the car, say our “goodbyes” and “be safe” before parting ways. We then walk for 3km before arriving at my PU at Lagos State Model Primary School on Adewunmi Adebimpe Drive. We noticed several PUs on the way there with significantly lower numbers of voters than anticipated. Some of them did not have up to 20 voters.
However, when I arrive at my PU, it is teeming with voters. There are also a handful of police officers and touts. I quickly confirmed that this was the right PU for me (I had secretly wished it was not and I would be referred to one of the scantily filled PUs we saw previously). I was wrong. That was my PU with the number ending 016. My husband said his goodbye at this point and continued his journey to Tantalisers Road where his PU is situated. I get in line to receive a number tally like everyone else. I look at the paper in my hand. Number 916. I immediately realised it would be a long day for me. Luckily, there are several canopies erected around the PU, with some spilling over to the road and white plastic chairs properly arranged under them. I found an empty chair and got comfortable.
Before long, I saw Debola Williams, dressed in his signature white Kaftan and red cap, motioning for a microphone to make an announcement. He announced the sequence for voting. We will get accreditation done first and then vote. The former will be done via the Bimodal Voter Accreditation Systems (BVAS) immediately followed by the latter. We will also be called in blocks of tens. He concluded his announcement and I felt relieved knowing this was the plan. So it began, “if you are number 10 – 20, please come cast your vote!” A lady said over the public address system. When she was not announcing numbers, the DJ was playing music. My God, when will it get to my turn? I thought. It was now almost 11 am. My stomach is growling for food. I usually do not eat until noon and my stomach was my unofficial alarm to make plans for brunch. I look around but there are no vendors in sight.
Everything remains calm for the most part of the day. Debola and some guys take turns distributing snacks (small chops), packs of water and soda (Coke and Fanta). Some people got snacks and drinks, some people did not. I mean we were well over one thousand, so no surprise there. My brunch arrives at 2:04 pm courtesy of the two most important men in my life. I thank God for my food, drank some cold water and went back to my seat. At this time, the tally numbers being called were in the 200s. On it goes for another four hours. At 6:28 pm, I cast my vote for the first time. It was quick and organized. The entire process lasted five minutes or less. It was a huge relief considering the rounds on social media about violence at several polling units. I called my husband to find out if he had voted. “No. The people here are just disorganized. I doubt I would vote today” He said. He calls his sister to pick me up and then him. She arrives at 6:46 pm. Gladly, I jump into the cold car and heave a sigh of relief. Whether my vote will count is story for another day. I got home at 8 pm feeling very exhausted but satisfied. I have done my civic duty. I have voted for the first time.
