Jewaira's Boudoir

We spent the night watching television and it was mainly Kuwait TV channel one:

That night was very long indeed and held happy surprises. From very early on in the poll counting, Ma’assouma Mubarak held the number one position in the first constituency. In the third constituency, Aseel Al-Awadhi and Rola Dashti were in the top ten places at fluctuating positions. We were rooting for Thikrah Al-Rasheedi in the fourth constituency who was getting great numbers in that male dominated arena. She was facing tough competition running independently in a traditionally tribal constituency that relied on pre-elections pacts and agreements between voters of extended families and tribal factions. The results of the second constituency did not appear till later and there were no real surprises there except for the very interesting position of Salwa Al-Jassar in the tenth position.

Four women at once? We were only wishing for one last year to put her foot in the door.

I was happy that I had voted then no matter what anyone else said. Change cannot happen through apathy. Change takes small steps and sometimes great leaps. We have to keep goals in mind and adjust our tempo and actions as necessary.

I remembered the flight from London. It had to be half full of Kuwaiti students in the UK coming back solely to vote. That was my impression. Such is the loyalty and cohesiveness of tribal families, that casting their vote is an absolute duty.

It is that type of mentality that is needed amongst those of us who are filled with malaise. Nothing changes by harping back to a hypothetical golden age. Change can happen by outlining aims and mobilizing people to achieve them. There is no time but the present and planning for the future begins now.

At the polling station:

We faced some traffic congestion as we drove up to the school. I got out of the car and began my short trek into the polling station. There was a hub of activity around me. Women and girls of all ages were standing around handing out candidate cards and fliers. I took them from each one and smiled courteously as I moved on. Regardless of who the candidates were and whatever rivalry existed, I felt a keen sense of sisterhood and a great feeling of pleasure at seeing females so involved in the campaign process. I was pleased to see young girls getting first hand exposure and experience to campaigning. It was refreshing to see their enthusiasm.

At the entrance to the school gate, there were both male and female representatives from the Ministry of Interior checking on the women who went in. They were primarily checking for ID which in this case was the small black rectangular nationality ID the Jinsiyah. Instructions were given on where to go and as I proceeded, I was interested to see that it was not too crowded. I wondered if that was just because of the time (3:30 pm) or if it was true that not many people were going to vote as rumoured.

Ahead of me was a young Kuwaiti woman assisting an elderly woman who could barely walk and who seemed to be complaining in a low voice to her assistant. The younger woman was smiling and kept repeating to her: “Never mind, it’s for your son, Auntie.” I wondered if her son was one of the candidates.

At one door, I was asked for my registration number and told which room to go into. I was most surprised when I was asked to leave my handbag on the chair at the door and to enter the room directly to cast my ballot. That was strange because in previous years we had been given numbers and had always waited a long time for our turn as we sat in classrooms or  in  queues. This time, I walked straight in, handed the judge my Jinsyah; they read my full name out, and gave me the ballot. I went straight to one of three podiums, and there ticked off the names of the chosen candidates.

At the table, there was the clear ballot box and I cast my folded paper into it. My Jinsyah was stamped and handed back. There were three people at the table: two women representatives and one male judge who I believe was Egyptian. On one side of the room were two rows of women seated as independent supervisors of the voting process.

I was literally in and out in minutes and could hardly believe it.

Perhaps I did not feel as euphoric as I did in the past two elections but I did feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. It felt right.