Nobody was.
“On the contrary,” nodded Stevie the Poet, “our current representative is responsive, pro-active and keeps everybody in the loop who wants to be. Improvements seen at the beach and the tidal pools; sewage leaks and potholes fixed; the caravan park being rescued from previous neglect; I can go on.”
“A very busy man then, eh Boyo?” grinned Colin the Golfer.
“Let me tell you,” asserted Luke the Dude, “the more he sorted the problems left by The Invisible One the DA had parachuted in from outside, the lighter the load and the better our town. And he still has a table at our regular Saturday Markie, available in person to anyone wishing to speak to their councillor.”
“That’s admirable,” nodded The Prof, “I didn’t know that.”
“So what’s the problem?” frowned Miss Lily.
“Good question,” smiled Luke, “before I answer you, is anyone here not happy with our councillor?” Nobody was.
“Right,” said Luke, now serious: “The problem is this, why is he not our candidate in this election?”
“What do you mean?” frowned Colin, “wasn’t it his decision?”
“No. He was shocked by it.” Luke was angry. “The DA cadre deployment commissariat connived behind his back and behind our backs, us, the people of our town, to parachute in another cadre from a different town. This time they are deploying from their own inner circle at Town Hall – a municipal official working closely with the mayor and councillors.
“You, voters, you will do as you’re told. And if you don’t turn up in numbers to vote, your guy will not even be a proportional representative. They threatened as much at the meeting called after some of us protested.”
“Yep, I was there,” growled Bill the Beard. “What struck me was the disrespect and arrogance. They know better than us what’s good for us. The cadre who is our constituency head – I don’t know his name; never seen him before – had the nerve to intimate that we were the culprits.
“Never known such a thing in the DA, grumbled he, that people come after a decision and disagree with it. What the DA does, is take a decision and then everybody supports it whether they like it or not: the ‘majority’ has spoken.
“What majority? He had no awareness that the voters he was insulting had been excluded from an important matter affecting us directly. Is this democracy in action?”
“So what are you going to do?” worried The Prof, “we can’t risk an ANC government.”
“No reasonable person would disagree,” reasserted Stevie the Poet, “in risky municipalities, no luxury of a protest vote. Here, the DA will govern regardless.”
“We were left no time to organise and register,” frowned Luke. “Heaven knows, we need an independent voice in our council to keep the others real. For now we have three choices: vote DA on two ballots but vote for another ward councillor; vote for the Freedom Front or ACDP on all ballots; or avoid the queue – have a braai and a beer instead. Cheers!”
And so we drank a toast to democracy. Yes, it had a bitter taste.
