You’d think that reminding these men that their vote is their voice would change their perception of the system, but no matter what you say, the huge debt of promises that have not been kept over the years is now finally due. These are men from rural Cape Town, who were lured to the big city by their colleagues. They sell brooms made by themselves, from reed plants, all over Johannesburg’s townships and on the outskirts.

They acknowledge their inability to contribute or fit into the country’s mainstream economy because of the inferiority of their work and also the fact that they come from poor backgrounds. For most of them education is good enough until the point where they can learn their numerals. They are ignorant of the academic benefits beyond being able to count. They believe that what they reap to take home at the end of each year is directly attributable to their own efforts and not that of the government or of any political party. And this is why they think the question of why they did not vote is highly misplaced.

The government has only been good enough to furnish them with their ID cards and give them an identity. Over and beyond that these men have envisaged and stuck to their own beliefs of what their identities as South Africans entail. While most of them were stick-fighting herd boys back in rural areas around Cape Town, they argue sharply about the significance of each of South Africa’s big three political parties and the government.

But before we arrive at the real reasons why they chose not to exercise their right to vote, they have something to say about the government and the country’s big three political parties. The government is a government of a privileged few, it’s a government of underhand thieves who do not care about the people, they believe. And the ANC’s significance is its insignificance. That the DA is a white institution fronted on blacks, and the EFF are a bunch of loose cannons.

Hear Sphelele Nogoda:

“With all due respect, I owe nothing to all these political fatcats. They should be ashamed to show their shady figures on people’s doors asking for their votes while they fail to provide an all-inclusive environment, conducive enough for job creation.”

These men walk dozens of kilometres each day selling brooms. They see no reason why they should divide their time between their demanding business and voting, even if it’s only for a single day. It’s just not worth it. According to them, politicians are liars who cannot be trusted with their innocence, and if this were not the case they would not be selling brooms, away from home.

Other than only one of them, whose reason for not voting was because he did not have money to travel back home where he had been registered, the others want nothing to do with any of the country’s political parties. They want nothing to do with, and are not concerned with, the IEC and its processes because they see no difference between voting and not voting.

Speaking on behalf of the group, Nkosinathi Mzothwa, 37, says the reason to vote is to achieve change. Mzothwa says if change is not forthcoming, he feels it within his rights to boycott elections:

“Our reasons for snubbing the polls are simple. Voting should transform our lives but over the years our families have been voting because they are blinded with empty promises. We make our living from selling brooms and your government is of no use to us. Their promises are nothing but a frustration to the dreams of rural youth, who still need to be taken by the hand, yet their policies are beneficial to educated urban youth. Our brooms are mightier than the ballot. We unfortunately cannot eat the ballot paper, yet our brooms put food on the table. Politicians scream words of promise to our ears only to break them to our hope. We vote our brooms.”

And while they speak freely of their challenges, these men are a symbol of everything that is wrong in South African society. More than a dozen of them are cramped in two small shacks with only three beds, rented to them by locals in Soweto.

There are no ablution facilities, no water, no electricity and no jobs. Many of them live on a sum of less than R60 daily. Their once-off daily meal is four loaves of bread and a few packets of Sweet Aid to wash it down.

They are not too friendly to questioning and will not all give their names. “What do you want to do with our names, because we are telling you everything you need to know?”

They are traditional men. They all bear downward tribal marks on their cheeks, a sign that they belong in the same tribe. The amaBhaca tribe.

But Johannesburg is not the first destination of their date with poverty. Back home, they have left behind starving families. The trend of luring other young men interested in selling brooms in Johannesburg’s townships has continued, leading to hundreds of them coming to Johannesburg.

Their glaring lack of formal education quickly explains why they are so detached. Mzothwa is no different, but television has greatly improved his political outlook. He is happy that his party of the past decade, the ANC, has been toppled by the DA in some metros.

Hear Mzothwa:

“I am so happy for the DA. I wish they would go into a coalition with the EFF and not the ANC, who will want to sabotage their efforts for 2019. I wish the DA agrees to a coalition with the EFF so that the party takes the entire country in 2019. The ANC behaves as though it votes itself, the party has lost all respect for the electorate. The ANC has robbed South Africans.”

These small businessmen have no idea if they will participate in 2019 polls, one that most of them say they are optimistic about despite the current situation. Most are happy with the sort of competition that the DA has provided, and hope that this will cut the ANC down to size and finally remove the party’s longstanding, fraudulent hold on the South African electorate.

“We are no longer concerned with the government or the parties’ colourful manifestos, all we want is service delivery and jobs.”

But for Mzothwa and his tribesmen to envisage a more realistic, meaningful, truly beneficial and fulfilling identity, they will have to ask themselves first how many miles they are prepared to cover before they give up selling brooms, and at what age. DM

Photo by Bheki C Simelane.