Who gets the vote?
By Kgaugelo Habyane
As South Africa approaches the local government elections on 4 November 2026, I find myself asking a question that goes beyond which party deserves my vote: “What gives us confidence in the people and institutions to which we entrust our future?”
For many, the distance between democracy’s promise and daily life is hard to ignore. Municipalities are responsible for water, sanitation, electricity, and waste removal. In Atteridgeville, as in many communities across the country, raw sewage spills, water cuts, crumbling infrastructure, and the rise of extortion groups are not just talking points. They are a lived experience. Politicians who arrive at election time with promises and disappear afterwards have much to answer for. The disappointment cuts deepest when those perpetuating the suffering look like us.
The numbers show the cost. National voter turnout fell from 89.3% in 1999 to 58.6% in 2024, and in metros it dropped below 50%. Polling by Ipsos shows that 47% of respondents feel no political party represents their views, while 40% of young people aged 18 – 34 express distrust in the Electoral Commission. Taken alongside declining voter turnout, these figures point to what could be described as the “No Vote” block, a political constituency of people who feel unrepresented, disillusioned or disconnected from the electoral process. Behind each percentage point is a person who may have stopped believing their voice counts.
Yet the failure is not only personal. Politicians operate within a dysfunctional system of corruption, unstable coalitions, party interests placed above public service and political violence. Voter education and apologies for bad governance are welcome, but they do not make up for what people have lost.
The digital age adds another danger. Misinformation spreads faster than any correction, targeting the unsuspecting, the older and the politically loyal. A forwarded voice note or doctored graphic can confuse voters about where, when or whether to vote, or manipulate trust in the process itself. Withdrawing does not protect us from this; it leaves the field to whoever shouts loudest. Questioning what we read and share is now part of our civic responsibility.
Abstention is an understandable expression of grief and protest. But silent resignation does not strip failing institutions of their power; it only removes our voice from how that power is used. Participation and trust are not the same thing. We can vote without unquestioning faith in a party and remain critical precisely because we care. Democracy, as civic leaders remind us, is a “contact sport” that demands active, relentless engagement.
That is where discernment matters: resisting the urge to vote out of habit, fear, loyalty or frustration, and looking at the evidence. Fr Anthony Egan SJ offers a practical tool for ethical evaluation: T.I.D.E., better understood as Transparency, Integrity, Delivery and Explanation. Through this framework, we can ask discerning questions. Are candidates transparent about their promises? Does their conduct demonstrate integrity? Is there evidence of delivery? When things fail, do they explain and take responsibility, or blame others?
It is worth noting that T.I.D.E. will not produce flawless candidates, but it moves us from slogans towards evidence. And discernment does not end at the ballot box. Attending council meetings, engaging ward councillors, and asking questions about municipal budgets are also ways of holding elected representatives accountable.
I may not yet know who will receive my vote. What I do know is that confidence must be earned. This is not a call to stay home. It is the cry of a concerned citizen on behalf of those promised the most and heard the least: vote with open eyes, verify before sharing, hold leaders to account, and refuse to let disappointment have the last word.
