For the upcoming Aug 27 Presidential Election, the Elections Department has produced special stencils that will enable blind voters to mark their ballot papers on their own.

These plastic stencils come with box-shaped cut openings, which have been created to correspond to each candidate’s name on the ballot paper. How it works is that the presiding officer will insert the ballot paper into the stencil and pass it to the blind voter to feel the cut-outs. He will then tell the voter, in the presence of polling agents, the order of the candidates’ names on the ballot paper.

By feeling the different boxes and being verbally informed of the order of the candidates names, the blind voter can mark their choice candidate’s box on their own.

This move - though small and arguably low-tech - is a historic concession.

Just consider the difficulties a blind person has to go through to vote. He (or she) must first make his way to the polling station, occasionally a challenge even for the sighted. At the polling station, the blind voter is not allowed to bring in a family member or friend to help him mark his ballot paper.

VOTING UNASSISTED

Yet, there are no aids - such as Braille ballot papers or phone voting systems used in other countries - to allow him to vote unassisted.

In the past, some presiding officers have insisted on marking the blind voter’s ballot paper for him, after asking him his choice of candidate, the president of the Singapore Association of the Visually Handicapped (SAVH) - Tan Guan Heng - said.

What has annoyed blind voters is that they are not allowed to get a loved one to check that their ballots are marked according to their wishes.

Mr Tan added: 'We do not doubt the integrity or sincerity of the presiding officers, but we feel more comfortable getting a family member to mark our ballot papers for us.'

For years, members of the 6,000 strong blind community were upset by what they perceived as a lack of willingness to help them vote like everyone else - with dignity, independently and with privacy.

Some have even sought their Member of Parliament’s help to address the situation, while others tore up their ballots in frustration, Mr Tan said.

Before the May General Election, the SAVH wrote to the authorities expressing its unhappiness over the situation. The community asked to bring a loved one into the polling booth to help them cast their vote.

Under the law, the Elections Department replied that family members are not allowed to help a blind voter mark his ballot as that 'may compromise the secrecy of the vote cast and may subject the voter to undue influence or pressure'. But it clarified that a presiding officer may assist a blind voter in marking his ballot, only if the voter asks for help.

The SAVH, understandably, was disappointed by that response. Hence, this latest stencil compromise has been embraced as a small but important step towards empowering them in the voting process.

Given that barely three months have passed from the last Election to the upcoming Presidential Election, blind voters see the stencils as a satisfactory - but temporary - fix. And indeed it is.

FIRST-WORLD 'VOTING'

Because as an affluent first-world nation, Singapore can surely do more for blind voters in the future.

Already, the SAVH has indicated that they prefer using Braille ballot papers, as it is easier for them to use instead of having to remember which box corresponds to which candidate in the current stencil method.

Elsewhere around the world, there are many innovative ways to help the blind vote.

In Australia, the blind are allowed to vote by telephone. They go to the polling centre, place a call to a call centre and register their vote. They can also get a family member or friend to mark their ballot.

In the United Kingdom, the blind vote through the use of a tactile voting device attached to the ballot paper, which features Braille lettering and large fonts. They can also vote by proxy, by post or take along a companion to assist them.

Even developing countries such as Indonesia and India have Braille ballot papers and electronic voting machines with Braille signages.

With a rapidly ageing population, it is timely to relook the whole voting process and come up with lasting solutions, not just for the blind, but for the growing constituencies of the old, infirm and disabled.

Alternative systems, such as voting by telephone, should be explored, given that increasingly more will have difficulties getting out of their house to vote.

Because surely, their votes count too.

A person’s temperament is one reason why some cope better with adversity; the support they get from loved ones and even medical and social service professionals is another factor. Religious faith also helps.

But having interviewed three dozen people and organisations for a special report on support groups, I feel yet another factor - the ability to use their experience to help others - separates those who swim and sink during a crisis.

In particular, I was struck by the experiences of three women robbed of their loved ones by sudden and traumatic deaths and who rose from the depths of despair to be a beacon of light for others.

Yin is a 49-year-old housewife who lost both her parents to suicide. Her mum killed herself when she was seven. About five years ago, her ailing, elderly dad jumped to his death. It sent her life into a tailspin. She could hardly function, assaulted daily by feelings of regret, guilt and grief.

The turning point came when she joined a support group run by the Samaritans of Singapore (SOS) for those who have lost loved ones to suicide.

The mother of three said: “The turning point in my road to healing came when I realised I could use this extremely painful experience to help and support others, that I could use this tragedy for something good.”

Encouraged by her counsellors, she wrote a book on her experience hoping it could help others going through the same trauma. She is also helping to facilitate the SOS support group now.

Likewise, insurance agent Joyce Lye, 59, rose above her grief to start a support group for widows.

In 1985, she was out for her nightly supper with her husband when their car crashed.

He died instantly and she was left in a coma for three days. She recovered to raise two young daughters alone.

Joyce managed to make ends meet after selling off her husband’s unprofitable carpentry business and finding work as an insurance agent.

But emotionally she was a wreck. She cried herself to sleep every night for 10 months after her husband died.

She church-hopped, hoping to find answers and support. In the end, she found God and other widows who needed support as much as she did.

“It takes a widow to know a widow. And by just sharing our struggles, we uplift one another,” said Joyce.

So she threw herself into starting a support group for widows and today, Wicare, has grown to full-fledged organisation offering counselling and other services to widows and their children.

Similarly, lawyer-turned-housewife Sonya Szpojmarowicz, 42, tapped into her own sorrow to start Child Bereavement Support (Singapore), which helps grieving parents.

The death of her eldest child Max, “took away all meaning” in her life. Max was a “gorgeous, fit and healthy” toddler who died suddenly in his sleep.

In the darkest days of her life, she found four other expatriates living in Singapore who had lost a child too.

Mrs Szpojmarowicz, who has four other children, said of her informal group: “It was the only place where we could be completely honest about how we felt. Other friends found it hard to stay with our pain; their lives go back to normal but ours don’t.”

So in 2004, she and her friends decided to start a support group to help other bereaved parents find their way out of the long dark tunnel of grief.

Perhaps the ability to help others, despite their own pain, gives meaning to these women’s suffering.

And meaning is crucial to life and living. As German philosopher Nietzsche puts it: “He who has a why for life can put with any how”.

The beer promoter comes from a middle class family where dad is a businessman and her elder brother is a dentist.

Given her respectable credentials, you would think Ms Bui would have no problem finding love and romance in Vietnam.

So it came as a surprise to me during the course of the interview that she is among the hordes of Vietnamese farm girls hunting for a Singapore husband.

The men they are likely to marry are often virtual strangers old enough to be their fathers. And they are not usually not Prince Charming material.

Like others before her, Ms Bui admitted to buying into the whole 'Singaporean men make good husbands' line of reasoning.

A friend of hers who wed a local guy had told her that Singaporean men were 'good' and life here was 'good'.

What about love though? Isn’t love important in a marriage?

In reply, all Ms Bui and two other women at the Vietnam Brides International Matchmaker’s office at Orchard Plaza just smiled. 'All I ask,' said Ms Bui, 'is that he treats me well.'

It didn’t seem to bother them that their matchmaker, Mr Mark Lin, is trying to get them hitched by slashing his match-making fees by half to $4,000. That sum includes the cost of travelling here, accomodation, food and Mr Lin’s fees.

Business, apparently, has dried up in the wake of the financial crisis, said Mr Lin, hence the 'special promotion'.

But will these unions last?

Apparently so.

Only about one in 10 of the marriages he has arranged ended in a divorce.

The question is: Will the couple find happiness?

For a $4,000 price tag, it's understandable why they'd pay to find out.

Read Theresa Tan's full report on foreign brides in The Straits Times here.