It’s Sunday morning, and I’m standing in a queue at my children’s old school. At 47, I’m about to vote for the first time in my life.
Behind a screen, I place my three chosen ballot papers into separate envelopes: one for parliament, one for the region and one for my municipality. I then walk over to a desk where three women are waiting. One checks my ID, another crosses my name off a list, and the third places my envelopes into their respective boxes.
Five minutes later, I’m outside. After 47 years, I’ve finally had a say in choosing the government of a country I now call home.
I hadn’t avoided voting all these years. I’d only recently become a Swedish citizen. Having left South Africa and Mauritius more than twenty years ago, I’d never felt it was right to vote in elections in countries where I no longer lived.
I’ve lived in several countries, but I’ve never really identified myself as Swedish, French, Mauritian, South African or Belgian. Each place has shaped me in different ways. So what does having a nationality actually mean?
I believe people should have the freedom to move and settle wherever they wish. I’ve always found the idea of nations and borders somewhat strange. They’re human creations, after all, designed in part to give people a sense of belonging and a reason to work together. Just because you happened to be born somewhere doesn’t mean you own the place. The planet belongs to all of us.
I understand that a world without borders is easier to imagine than to put into practice. Countries have different laws, economies and cultures, and managing migration comes with challenges. Still, I believe people should have the opportunity to build a life somewhere other than where they were born. I’ve been fortunate enough to do that myself.
And yet, there I was, voting for the first time as a Swedish citizen. For the first time, I could help decide who governs the country where my children are growing up.
I don’t know whether becoming a citizen has made me feel any more Swedish. But Sweden is where I’ve built my life, and for now, it’s the place I call home.
