I guess it would be weird not to say something about yesterday’s elections. They did, after all, mark 30 years since true democracy. And like most peoples’ experience of living in South Africa, everyone’s experience of yesterday was different. For some, it was violence to the point where they couldn’t vote. For others, it was catching up with neighbours, and ordering Butlers in the queue. And I honestly don’t have an opinion on how the same thing can be so different, to the point of seeming grossly unfair.

So I’ll just write about our little experience: selling ‘political popcorn’. My eldest has a propensity towards entrepreneurship, which I did too at his age, From young, I was always trying to flog ‘stuff’ off at school: anything from baby hamsters (which I used to house in my old-school desk with a lid until first break, at which point the buyer had to quickly relieve me of the mouse) to Pringles (R15), to stain glass jars (R10). I digress, but the point is that I enjoy finding the gap. And yesterday, there was a captive audience just around the corner from our house.

So we voted early (done by 9am), and hustled back to produce and package the popcorn. Then quickly back to confront the queue for the first sale (under the watchful eye of dad), It didn’t go well. So back they came, and an hour later I decided to take the boys with two other friends in tow.

In these types of situations, I’m quite shy. I have an ego, we all do. And I could feel the sweat forming under my autumn dress as fellow suburban’s responded really well (with exclamations of congratulation), or looked at me like an unfeeling opportunist. Fine line people.

Either way, the kids made sales. They learnt the art of saying ‘thank-you for purchasing my product’. They had to be truthful and faithful to give change (despite one very generous offer to keep it). And hopefully they realised that it’s ok to ‘put yourself out there’. An ego is just that. Something to be managed, not something to hinder.

And so whilst our suburban experience was a positive one, the truth is that so many did not get to vote- despite their desire, and despite queuing for hours (only to be told that they had to go elsewhere). The injustice is incomprehensible. There is nothing that can be said, or done, to rectify a vote being withheld from a fellow South African.

The only thing I could say this morning was ‘I’m so sorry. Here’s a bag of popcorn’.