‘I lost my legal right to vote’: Booths closed early — or didn’t open at all — in some Nunavik villages

Elia Lauzon doesn’t trust the government, or the electoral system. Still, she turned up Monday to the polling station in Puvirnituq, Que., to have her say. 

“I do know it’s the smallest right that I have offered to me and fought for me by other Indigenous activists over the course of decades,” Lauzon said.

Lauzon, who’s normally based in Kuujjuaq, was motivated to vote when she saw an Indigenous candidate, a Cree woman, running in her riding of Abitibi–Baie-James–Nunavik–Eeyou. The riding has been held by the Bloc Québécois for two terms now. 

But when Lauzon turned up to the polls, she was told it was closing around 2:30 p.m. — seven hours before it was supposed to, as listed under the Canada Elections Act for districts in the Eastern time zone. 

“I was looking forward to that ability, but now you know what, I’m just mad,” she said. 

Aside from Puvirnituq, CBC has heard from residents in four other Nunavik villages who say voting booths closed early in their communities.

In a statement, Elections Canada said weather issues were affecting flights for workers.

“The returning officer attempted to implement several different strategies to provide voting services to communities,” it said in a statement. 

“In several cases, it was not possible to recruit local teams. In other cases, harsh weather conditions have prevented access to communities.”

Elections Canada did not confirm how many villages were affected, or whether polling booths did close down. 

In Salluit, recreation co-ordinator Mary Papigatuk said residents only had an hour and 15 minutes to vote before workers packed up and left at 2:30 p.m. 

She was at the village office the whole time, and saw less than 70 people vote during that short window.  (In the 2021 federal census, Salluit’s population was around 1,600.)

For her, this is another example of Inuit being used by politicians and government officials who claim they’re engaging with Indigenous people. 

“We as Inuit, we’ve had non-Inuit using us for show, but then when it’s actually time for us to be involved, we’re not involved,” she said. 

In Ivujivik, Mayor Adamie Kalingo said Elections Canada staff didn’t even set up a station in his community before they left. 

He was expecting them over the weekend, but he started to worry when they still hadn’t arrived by mid-morning. 

They eventually did around midday, but after a toilet stop, they took off again. 

“We don’t have any official ballot papers or information on how to go about this particular election,” he said. 

“I’ve been getting calls from teachers and social workers and local people wanting to vote but I have no choice but to tell them we don’t know what’s happening, and it’s just a terrible mess.”

Papigatuk is also frustrated that Elections Canada employed nobody local to help with the voting stations — which is something she says she witnessed in the past. 

The lack of information in Inuktitut from all political parties also pains her. 

“There’s never really been anyone to translate these campaigns for our elders, or the children, who only know Inuktitut, or people who have a hard time understanding what’s going on.” 

Voter turnout in Indigenous communities has historically been an issue. 

In the 2021 federal election, out of over 38,000 registered electors in Indigenous communities in Quebec, less than 9,000 cast a vote, according to Elections Canada.

That 23 per cent voter turnout rate lagged behind the average national rate for electors in Indigenous communities, which sat at 44 per cent.

In this huge Quebec riding, Indigenous voters have lots of power — and specific concerns

Voter turnout in Eeyou Istchee is traditionally low. Some hope this election will be different

Kuujjuaq’s Elia Lauzon recognizes the logistical challenges of voting in the North, but she said she doesn’t believe that is acceptable in 2025.

“If you’re not going to send people to my region, make it possible for me to vote online,” she said.

Kayla Meeko, the president of the board of directors at Quaqtaq’s daycare, was working out when they would let staff leave so they had their legally-entitled three hours to vote. 

When word spread that the voting station was closing at 2.30 p.m., she and others rushed to the polling booth, but she was too late. 

“I could hear their airplane starting in the background,” she said. “Today, I lost my legal right to vote.

“As an Inuk woman, having the right to vote is very, very important. Not that long ago, women were not allowed to vote, and as an Indigenous person of Canada, how our prime minister treats us depends very much on our votes.”