Choices given, voices heard | Achar

Last year I met an American teenager who had voted for George W Bush in the 2004 US elections. It was strange how quickly the conversation turned slightly uncomfortable; here, in person, was one of those Americans who the rest of the world was struggling to understand. Someone who not only helped elect the man behind 'the war on terror' and such moments of brilliance as "[Our enemies] never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we," but who also did so after he'd already been in office for four years and displayed to the world his abilities and sensibilities—or lack thereof.

The look of horror on my face must have been apparent, because she launched into a long, complicated, defensive response to the unspoken, "But… why?!" that hung heavy in the air. She talked about how her family, being in their particular income bracket, had the most to benefit from his tax policies; how she'd been raised a Republican; and about how she just couldn't resist Dubya's animal sexual magnetism. Or something like that.

I admit my eyes glazed over after a bit, perhaps reminiscent of the American president's when he answers questions on Iraq. But, presumably unlike him, the challenge got me thinking.

The last time widely-accepted elections were held in Nepal was in 1999, years before I, and thousands of other young Nepalis who are now eligible to vote, turned 18. We've never had the chance to vote for leaders we believe in, or even really know what our leaders believe in. Of course each is affiliated with a broad school of ideals, and has catchy soundbites about serving the people, building the country, and all the rest. But who actually has real plans, like an economic policy, or a plan to boost health services or our education system? Don't we have the right to know not just what they plan to do (like turn Nepal into the next Switzerland or Singapore or, bewilderingly, Israel), but also—even in just really broad terms—how they plan to do it?

The coming year could well change Nepal. We've got constituent assembly elections on the horizon and, presumably, regular democratic elections after that. In the 1999 elections, only 8.9 million of a total 13.5 million voters exercised their franchise. Since then over four million more young Nepalis have reached voting age. Roughly 600,000 more will do so every year.

When we have the opportunity to use our right to be part of decisions affecting us and our country, we need to actually use it.

Hopefully, we'll have enough options and information to make good decissions when that time comes, and the sense to question grandiose promises made to us. We also need to learn to think critically about which choices are best for us, personally and as a country. We can't be afraid to ask for details. That may be where the devil is, but it's also where solutions lie.