It’s been a while since I had a reason to get up at 5 in the morning. Usually, I am quite groggy when I wake up, too, but this day was different. Like me, they were up early and eagerly awaited the time to exercise their right to vote. It's election day. I have waited for my chance to vote long enough and it came with an added bonus: I volunteered as a poll watcher representing the Liberal Party (LP) and Vice President Leni Robredo, my choice for the presidency. On May 9, I had the opportunity to cast my first vote and observe the entire election process from the lens of a poll watcher.
The day that the past few months of loud campaigns, heated (online) discourse, and jampacked grand rallies are for is finally here. The chilly, early morning Baguio air did not deter the voters in our barangay, BGH compound.
I voted hours after the official voting hours started because watcher duty came first; I needed to cater to the needs of the high number of morning voters. Hands trembling, I held the marker and ballot. I let the anticipation build and subside as I calmly shaded the circles beside the candidates I chose. My point of view narrowed down to what I had in my hands, nervously scanning the ballot for the number of senators and councilors that I voted for. The silence felt less and less deafening as I made sure that I completed my lineup and did not overvote.
My sigh of relief felt as fresh as the breeze coming from the open windows. I could not help but have a warm feeling inside as I saw that my votes were counted as seen on the receipt. I chuckled to myself as I thought about most voters who thought they were to take their receipts home. My shift as a poll watcher began with a few hours of sitting on a chair, giving warm greetings and instructions to voters as I gently applied indelible ink on their index fingers. When it was my turn, I had a fellow watcher apply the ink on my finger for me, resisting the urge to do it myself and apply it as I liked.
My election day experience did not end when I cast my vote. As the sole poll watcher in our barangay, I accepted the task of obtaining and submitting the Election Returns (ERs) from both voting clusters in our barangay. Awaiting the results felt longer than the voting hours themselves. I found myself aimlessly pacing the room to ease my boredom or talking to members of the Election Board (EB). While the counting of votes was automated, making the printing of ERs easy, it was the transmission that took more time. I watched as the EB gave each other high-fives as the vote counting machine (VCM) transmitted the votes to the Board of Canvassers.
Then, I felt their wave of concern as it was unable to transmit them to the Kapisanan ng mga Brodkaster ng Pilipinas (KBP) Transparency server. I could tell that they initially did not know what to do about this, so we quickly went through the Election Handbook. The room lit up again as they discovered that they only needed to mention the failure of the transmission to the KBP Transparency Server in their final report.
Finally, it was time for the EB and three poll watchers to sign the ERs. It took a while, so I helped fill up information on envelopes that were to contain the ERs. After signing one envelope after another, my fingers trembled for a few minutes, probably because I had not used them to write in a while. Finally, the ERs were distributed to us. With that, the election day ended when I obtained the signed ERs three hours after the end of the voting hours.
Frankly, I did not like the result of the National Elections. Reading the names of the candidates who won the presidency and vice presidency stung, but it was my duty to inform my neighbors and fellow voters who waited outside the voting precincts. I was grateful for the fact that it was only a small crowd gathered outside, hearing cheers from individuals instead of loud crowd-level shouts of victory. As I rode a cab on the way to the local LP headquarters, I silently listened to the soundtrack of “The Batman,” its somber tones matching the gloomy mood I found myself having.
Upon reaching the HQ, I was greeted with the warmth that the supporters always seemed to have, and one of them who interacted with me helped lighten my mood. We did not exchange names, but we did talk about our watcher experiences. Her eyes widened when I told her that I was the only LP poll watcher in my barangay and that I took it upon myself to obtain the ERs from the second precinct not assigned to me. “Kuya, dahil pinush mo yung pagpo-poll watcher na mag-isa, ako na pipila at kukuha nung food mo.” Even with a face mask on, I felt the warmth of her smile and her sincerity as she handed me the food. I waved goodbye to her and her friends when I took a cab headed for home.
Two days and seemingly unending mental breakdowns later, I write this. I am thankful for the opportunity I received to make my first election experience more meaningful. However, I am devastated by the partial unofficial results. I watched as my family, friends, and fellow supporters expressed their dismay. Nonetheless, I tried my best to reassure them that we still have a chance at a better Philippines.
Hours before I wrote this, I was on the brink of losing hope for the country and fearing for my and my family’s safety myself. Later, I joined an audio call with my fellow writers from The Forerunner where we discussed our next move for our post-election issue. Hearing them express their thoughts about what we should do now helped motivate me to finish what I promised to do.
For now, I will stand by what I told my close friends: "'Wag tayo magpapadaig, hindi pa tapos ang laban." It seems like it will take a miracle, but I will hold on to the hope that Congress proclaims a different set of candidates compared to what the partial unofficial results say.
The excitement of being a first-time voter could have been complemented by the victory of the candidates I rooted for, but that was not the case. Still, I know that I made the right choices. This is what I will hold on to until it is time to exercise this right to vote again.
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