COMMENT "It's not on the list," said the lady in the pink floral scarf.

"What do you mean?" I firmly asked, trying my hardest to suppress the imminent trembling in my voice.

"Your name - it isn't on the list," she said monotonically, pushing her bifocals along the bridge of her nose.

My heart sank, fears were realised. I didn't just wait for over a year since registering to vote in that very same office and then take the 7.32am train to London, to be turned away from being a first-time voter...