My grandaunt is in her late 60s. She lives in Transfer Road, Penang with her husband, children and grandchildren. She doesn’t read the newspapers nor follow the current affairs of our country.

During my last visit, I informed her about the upcoming election, I asked if she was willing to travel to the polling center to cast her vote.

“Of course. I must,” she said with confidence.

“Who will you vote for?” I asked.

She smiled as she rubbed her legs.

“I will vote for the same one I have been voting for, since forty years ago,” she said.

“Do you know the name of the party you will be voting for?” I asked. She went silent for a while.

“Do you remember the name?” I asked again. She started scratching behind her ears like she always does when she starts thinking.

“I don’t quite remember,” she said as she continued rubbing her legs. “But it’s the blue one.”

“Barisan Nasional?” I asked.

“I don’t know what it’s called. But it has two triangles with a horizontal line.”