Voters verifying names on electors list, Katmandhu, Nepal, April 10, 2008. (Stephen Puddicombe/CBC)
STEPHEN PUDDICOMBE - Reporter's Notebook
Nepalese defy own fear to vote in historic election
One voter's proud gait hints at importance of poll
Updated April 11, 2008
I met an old man on Election Day in Nepal; he wouldn't tell me his name. He thinks he's 85 but says he could be as old as 90.
There were two kinds of ballots in Nepal election: blue for first-past-the-post candidates and pale red for candidates chosen according to the proportional-representation system. Voters use a rubber stamp to place a mark in the box corresponding to their chosen candidate. Candidates are illustrated by symbols to help illiterate voters. (Stephen Puddicombe/CBC)
With a cane in one hand and a young boy leading him by the other, he hobbled up a ramp toward a polling station. He told me he had no time for chitchat; he had to vote. The polling captains let him go ahead of the hour-long queue to cast his ballot.
As I watched this bespectacled 85- or 90-year-old gentleman make his way up the concrete steps in the blazing sun, I realized why people around the world should pay attention to this election and to what happens after the April 10 vote here in Nepal.
This is the last kingdom of a Hindu monarch. His powers will be stripped if the new government gets its way, and it probably will. The king used to be revered here, but that changed after the former royal family, headed by the brother of the current king, King Gyanendra, was slaughtered by a drunken, stoned, suicidal prince several years ago. Some people blamed King Gyanendra for the massacre. Maybe because he assumed the throne immediately after. Speculation sometimes transforms to fact in some minds, and that's what happened here.
Add to that a brutal period of marshal law and the antics of the king's unpopular son, who lives a playboy lifestyle in a nation stricken by poverty, and it's not a recipe for friendship between the monarch and the general population.
I paused and watched as the elderly man stood by himself, weaving back and forth as he picked the party and candidate to vote for. He took his time. Finally, he walked only with the help of his cane to the big plastic voting box, bent over and stuffed his ballot into it.
The new age
There has been a Maoist-led rebel insurgency in Nepal for the better part of a decade. Thirteen thousand people were killed and thousands more maimed and wounded. After 240 years of monarchy, the rebels wanted a democratically elected government, a new constitution and to strip the king of his powers.
The majority of Maoist rebels have now traded their guns for peace, based on the promise of fulfilling their demands through the election process.
The deal was the result of a peace treaty signed in 2006 without international help.
Some international observers even believe Nepal's peace deal could serve as a blueprint for other nations facing prolonged insurgencies; a few countries come to mind, including Iraq and Afghanistan.
Everybody wins
I looked up at the elderly man, with his fedora and cotton sports jacket, grey dress pants and shiny, freshly polished shoes. Seemingly refreshed by the act of voting, he put his hands on his lower back, stretched, smiled, grabbed hold of his cane and walked back down the stairs without any help.
The peace deal in Nepal means less violence, but by Canadian standards, there is still a lot of it. In the week leading up to the vote, there were a dozen or more bombings, one assassination, several kidnappings and clashes between political groups and more than a dozen people randomly shot to death.
Voters line up in the hot sun waiting to vote in Katmandhu, Nepal, April 10, 2008. (Stephen Puddicombe/CBC)
There's a good reason not to vote: it's too dangerous. Many people told me they wouldn't vote because of the risk, but turnout at the polls tells a different story. At one voting station, every person eligible to cast a ballot did. There must be a lesson in that somewhere.
The elderly gentleman still wouldn't tell me his name or who he voted for. He smiled as he walked by. Then he paused, looked back and waved. Turning away again, his young friend helped him past the police, and they walked down the street, never looking back.
That man's story and the importance of this election are simple. In a country torn apart by violence nearing civil war, where poverty defines the human condition and where elections are a novelty, an elderly man got to do something he wanted to do for most of his life: stand behind a cardboard screen and vote.
ABOUT THIS AUTHOR
Biography
Stephen Puddicombe is CBC News's Pakistan reporter. He has previously reported from: Afghanistan, Belize, Haiti, Halifax, Iraq and Jordan.
