The Bus, the Cliff and the Ballot
I received a WhatsApp message and it got me thinking. It was a short snippet about a bus with ten people on board. Three voted to drive the bus over a cliff. Two voted against it. Five didn’t vote at all. The three won, and the whole bus goes over.
I’ve been thinking about that bus a lot lately… and it’s not because I am unsure whether to vote or not. I always have and I still will vote, in sha Allah. But it’s more a question about WHO to vote for. And this thought has been nagging me more now that I have teen to discuss these pertinent matters with – who to vote for, what to look for, historical precedent, international relations… These topics have been touched on at the table and during our commutes.
I keep drawing the same picture in my mind. Three circles overlapping into a Venn Diagram.
- The first is service delivery. Water that comes out of the tap when you need it. Lights that stay on. Roads you can drive on, especially at night, an education system that doesn’t fail our children, streets being cleaned, and drains being unclogged routinely.
- The second is leadership. People who we can count on to make a good difference, to steer the country through the difficulties we’re inevitably going to face – looking forward, creating jobs, upholding laws, respecting the values of each colour in our Rainbow Nation.
- The third is standing for what’s right. Justice. Human dignity. Being brave enough to stand ground, stand alone even, in the face of what’s right. Not trading values for an alliance, or for politics that don’t belong on our soil.

I want to make my mark where all three circles overlap. But the trouble is that I can’t find that place in the major parties on the light poles.
One party seems to get things done on the ground, but keeps company I can’t make peace with, people who openly sow division among us. Another has stood up for humanity when it mattered, but its record with the everyday running of things leaves a lot to be desired. Others are loud and active in the everyday, but may lack the skills to truly lead.
So what do you do when every choice asks you to give something up?
My first instinct was to frame it as a choice between the Duniya and the Aakhirah. Comfort now, or principles that will matter later?
The longer I thought about it, the less simple it seemed. Perhaps it isn’t one or the other. Perhaps it’s how we manage our responsibilities in this world while keeping the hereafter in view. Intention matters… but so do consequences, right?
Who we vote for tells us, and others, what we stand for… and what we are prepared to stand for. The decision deserves reflection. Our children deserve to learn their rights and earn their responsibilities from adults who aren’t afraid to question the status quo.
That’s my own reflection. It’s how far I’ve thought about it for now. These are the questions I’m asking myself. There’s no neat answer. It isn’t complicated, yet it isn’t that simple either.
Am I looking at what a party has actually done, or only at what it promises to do? Am I thinking about what its policies mean for the values of the people, or just for me?
And the hardest one: what does my vote say about what I stand for?
Staying home on 4 November doesn’t get me off the bus. The five people who didn’t vote still went over the cliff with the rest.
We may not find all three circles in one party. But when we stand before Allah SWT on a day when our actions will matter, we’ll each answer for our own intentions, and for what we did with the responsibility we were given.
May Allah SWT guide us all to choices that are just, wise and good for everyone they touch. And may He grant us just leaders. Ameen.
With love from Durban,
Waydi
P.S. I’d love to know how you’re thinking this through. Reply and tell me.
