RATS !!

In all my 40+ years I have never encounter the like ... everything follows a set script.. rats/mice appear from time to time, one buys the blue or pink rice-shaped poison, put it on a piece of paper where they run -- they eat it over a period of time and run off--hopefully in the yard to die.

Not this new breed!!

The past couple of months I have been hearing them scrabbling away in the attic, but they have ignored the poison that I thoughtfully climbed up to set. They decided to join the rest of the household for the Christmas Season and as evidenced by the droppings in the All-purpose cupboard--ironically originally conceptualised as a Larder when optimistically building the house-- also following the pattern of ignoring the pink poison pellets. It/they decided to up the ante and started gnawing wooden doors to the said cupboard
- being greeted with shredded wooden strips every morning to my distress - a Bookclub buddy recommended the sticky mats but I couldn't find any in the Hardware Stores and I had JUST missed the men selling on the Pave! I nixed the suggestion on mixing food/sugar with the ground-up link poison as also having a running battle with three different species of cockroaches and 5 different species of ants-- the fine, smelly ones that appear at the first sign of anything sweet being the most persistent-- so it's NOT like I haven't been scrupulous about hygiene or leaving any food exposed!
My local Corner Shoppe lady recommended dabbing said wooden doors with Peppermint Oil which is available here. It worked!! Yaay.

The bitches decided to take the fight closer to home and I woke up to find a huge chunk chewed out of my everyday Hand-bag as I had forgotten about the Dungs my aunt had brought over for Christmas. They didn't make it though the lining and really if they were after the Dungs- they could have sniffed around and go through the top as the Dungs were not in the zippered part - so it's my humble opinion they came to throw down the gauntlet!
Check out SN's editorial today -- looks like a city-wide problem:
http://www.stabroeknews.com/2011/opinion/editorial/12/29/fix-the-city-now/

It would be sad if Guyana makes the News for a resurgence of the Plague/Black Death.

Jazz at Christmas

       In (good) entertainment-starved Guyana, there was a welcome notice of a Jazz Concert at the Theatre Guild of Trinidad-based Guyanese Ruth Osman. She had a beautiful melodious voice but the volume of synthesizer tended to be a bit too loud – I was tempted to tell the Player to lower it when I saw the entertainers liming outside the Ladies during the Interval.

 The attendance was poor and a lot of the audience came late, the actual start being 45minutes late. I understand last year, Paul Keene-Douglas, a Trinidadian raconteur did a few skits and the thing was a sell-out. This year, unfortunately the musical pieces were punctuated with young women doing liturgical dances – one maybe two might have been ok – the looks of their faces deadly serious even though I think one of the songs was extolling the joy of the season – but 5 or 6 was way too much- as R leant across and said during the third dance—not bad if it was your 8yr old dancing but too little to hold a non-Christian audience.

I was thrilled to find out that (yet) another Guyanese – Lord Melody and the Lords had written and performed one of the popular Christmas songs - but of course in the ‘golden age’ of Guyanese culture- the 1950’s - part of the song goes:
Church Bells are ringing ,
dah, dah dah Santa Claus' on his way ..Merry Christmas to you dear...
Happy holiday...

Hustling business in Guyana

On my way home, on impulse I decided to check out the apparent mini-Indian expo - the size and numbers of participants having dwindled in years but I remembered picking up nice cheap fake jewellery in years past. Thought I would look for some to give away as surprise Christmas presents.
Turns out to be a sole man in conjunction with a local Indian National hell-bent on exploiting any Indian holiday to promote his store of cheap Indian imports of vastly inflated prices - now moving into the lucrative business of the health profession as the toothless Ministry of Health keep shooting themselves in the foot and jumping into ventures without much thought-- but I digress. There was a room of carved wooden furniture, a handful of embroidered cotton shirts for men, polyester saris from U$50, a table of Indian bracelets and two long tables of various Beauty Products.
The owner followed me as I stopped to inspect the goods and in the best salesman pitch suggested 'Fat-burning' tea and lotion for breaking down and losing fat - Karmic Revenge for earlier uncharitable thoughts about thinking I looked better than a younger person looking decidedly Middle-aged - and after a quick scan-over: two different oils (and prices) for falling hair/hair loss! I felt a bit bad for him as business was so slack and I was the only customer and bought the cheapest thing as a 'pity buy' and atone for earlier uncharitable thoughts.

Pit Stop

With the dwindling Middle Class there were no Christmas Specials for the annual Christmas Lunch! Windies around the corner morphed into The Hibiscus and were offering Fried Rice and Baked Chicken, Oasis had their regular stuff and no-where else advertised anything!
So I remember a lady from Church recommending PitStop - located on the grounds of the local Motor Racing  Club near The National Park. Not finding a number in the directory, I popped in to see the ubiquitous Baked Chicken in a Sweet and Sour version with rice and pasta as Plat du Jour - running low on options we decided to check it out.
I must say- the location next to a wide open space and under a large tent is a great idea for the Region - reminded me a bit of Brazil and I suppose in a few years when they have taken us over, there will be more places like it-- the Alexander and Robb St places can't quite match up the to wide, airy and cool space.
That said the service by two youngsters was extremely slow, having to go to the Bar to order both the Set Lunch and drinks.  The meal itself was a bit too carbohydrate-y for me -- pasta and a large portion of flavoured rice being too much for me-- the baked chicken itself was ok-- tasting of 5-spice powder. Something in the salad was rotten and there was too little and swamped by Creamy Ranch Dressing.
The people with me, one notoriously hard to please, actually liked the food - shame it took about an hour to get to the table, by which time I had downed 1/4 litre of Coke and could feel my teeth dissolving!
I noticed with perverse satisfaction someone younger than me emerging from the Gym looking definitely Middle-aged with a huge pooch and heavy hips and consoled myself than I wasn't so bad and celebrated by checking out the Tiramisu - Ms Fussy rejected it as being too sweet, but I thought it was pretty good - the alcohol adding subtle undertones without overpowering- in fact definitely made the meal for me.
Prices were reasonable.

The Sly Company of People Who Care – Rahul Bhattacharya

How  in ironic that a definitive Guyanese novel accurately reporting on events taking place in a fateful year in Guyana along with known and unknown Guyanese characters, be written by a non-Guyanese!

He has an original style but accurately and faithfully recalls the Guyanese dialect and prejudices making it very easy to recognize the characters in Guyanese life. I loved the fact that he embraced the quirks of the people without being condescending and that he was very open to experiencing new and strange things – very unusual for the usually tight-assed bordering on anally retentive, introverted Indian National!

A friend said the ending was highly unlikely but that he had the artistic licence to incorporate an imagined ending - not far removed from the realities of living in Guyana. Most things rang true for me, having lived in Guyana during that period he wrote about and in fact attending the film show at Castellani House on the night he mentioned - slight exaggeration about the description of the audience but allowable. There was a bit of dissatisfaction in the papers about how it seemed that he looked for the worse things to ridicule but someone mentioned it is an indication to how low we've fallen - I felt it was a bit exaggerated myself but would not deny that there are attitudes like that around, maybe a bit one-sided as he steered clear from mentioning the hospitality shown to him by the middle-classes.  Also having gone overland to Kaieteur Falls and Venezuela - it thrilled me to read about some of the descriptions.

Reconfiguring terms

In the season of Giving, a Flat-Screen TV was donated to a Centre caring for 100 orphans, along with free internet access to 80 channels by a Local Cable Company.  Now not to be a Grinch but I don't quite see how that translates to 'the opportunity to broaden their scope of knowledge and also enjoy wholesome entertainment' which 'will assist the children with improving their educational abilities'.

80 Channels of crap American adverts punctuated with biased  points of view or inane stupidness may just be the reason the young have the attention span of a flea! Surely if the company was serious about improving the children's educational abilities they could start some sort of Reading Program where you would be providing the child with tools to explore to written world, but no - that would involve too much effort in today's throw-money-at-it-get-the-photo-op and bugger off. Maybe that's what's wrong with the Education System where not enough acknowledgement is given to the co-operative effort involved in raising a good human being?

I sort of like Khalil Gibran's thoughts from The Prophet: 

"There are those who give little of the much which they have--and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome."

"See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving."

So -ok donate the damm TV but don't make out it's for furthering the educational needs of the poor children- sounds very Orwellian!

Char Adhyay

Bengali film based on a short book by India's Nobel Laureate (in Literature) Rabindranath Tagore.
The name means Four Chapters - but was not presented in  continuous Time-line, chopping and mixing different times-- took me and the girl sitting next to me a while to figure even that out. We both thought the photography was good and she particularly liked the shots involving reflections on/in water - whatever symbolism missing me entirely- thought it tried too hard to be 'arty'.
I liked the poetic touches and thought some of the observations then are still applicable to today.
The Plot is basically the young idealistic Indians, drawn into the Resistance movement against the British (action supposedly taking place in the 1930's, but actual live scenes with Gandhi - occuring in the mid-40's stuck in) are themselves manipulated by a seemingly self-centred Leader who increasingly crosses the line of Civil Liberties such as making them marry people they may not have wanted to, using crime like stealing for money to fund Political Activities-- resulting in an elderly widow being killed.
One of the Leader's most useful gofers is Ela, an attractive dedicated young woman - reminded me a bit of that Olga person in Brazil's murky past.  Part of her duties seem to be to reel in young men to The Cause and she ends up falling for a Poet who later is disgusted with things that he has to do and plans to leave - she realises that she loves him and begs him to take her with him but as he himself don't know where he'll go and what he'll do he declines. With the constant flashbacks it seemed as if alternate endings were presented - that one where he leaves and another where it seems he goes to warn her that she's about to be eliminated as she knows too much and she's incurred the wrath of The Leader by disobeying orders to leave the Poet alone, but she tells him that she would prefer to die by his hand. Maybe even an odd scene where a man in a white outfit is shot in a quiet little village.
Feeling rather old and jaded I couldn't quite empathise why people would suspend their personal moral values to be enthralled by a charismatic leader. Pragmatic Guyanese- to use a description by Rahul Bhattarcharya in his book:  In the Sly Company of People who Care- 'Coolies and slaves celebrating getting buggered' - now being so cynical wouldn't give you the time of day if there's nothing in it for them- whole New Era!

Musings on Water

Got up extra early to prepare for the blindly-optimistic youths who said they were going to power-hose the yard and concrete fence at 6am. Good that there are enterprising youths still about, bad that I had to wake them at 6.15am so they could make a start before I left for work!
They seemed very reluctant to used the long-hard brush, depending on electricity and wastage of water to make good on the lost elbow grease.
Having just seen a NatGeo program on the slums of India, where water is a scarce commodity and there is access to a standpipe for only a couple of hours got me thinking about how fortunate my area was to be supplied by Well water, and furthermore- what wastage it was to be using such a precious resource to wash cars and other things and flush toilets and wondered about the possibility and cost of supplying potable water from a separate supply as surely the cost to make water drinkable means that about 80% of domestic usage could be supplied at a lesser cost. Of course that would require a whole new Plumbing concept, but isn't Guyana the ideal testing ground as the Housing Market is poised to expand, or alternately the population is small enough to try different systems and not being too sophisticated as yet would probably not have too high expectations to start with?

Martin Carter's 14th Death Anniversary

Martin Carter is the acknowledged Guyanese Poet who emerged during the 1950s and died in the 1990s.

 It seems symbolic that the period of the 1950-70's with its limited education which had standards linked to the Mother Country, churned up Guyanese writers and thinkers that remains unmatched in this current day, in spite of access to technological advances.

The De Caries family, like many of the comfortable middle-classed families now have their children with their families based in countries other than Guyana in spite of business interests in Guyana and a home located in the heart of the City - they represent the tragedy of Guyana - where its educated and worldly younger folk feel there is no future for them. They have thus decided to allow their property to be used as a venue for Cultural Events - this first being to launch Joe Singh's latest book and a reading of Martin Carter's poems to note his 14th death anniversary.

Having met my own poems man - this last poem in my 1997 copy of Martin Cater's Collected Works now makes sense to me:

The Poems Man

Look, look, she cried, the poems man,
running across the frail bridge
of her innocence. Into what house
will she go ? Into what guilt will
that bridge lead ? I
the man she called out at
and she, hardly twelve
meet in the middle, she going
her way; I coming from mine:
the middle where we meet
is not the place to stop.

Good Live music

exists in Guyana!!
Diverted from a school sing-along social as invited two friends to The Georgetown Chamber Choir's 'Teach The World A Song' concert at St George's Cathedral.
Even though there were initial technical difficulties and a delay of 40 minutes as the Mothers' Union had a service up to 15 minutes before the advertised starting time of the performance, they did not 'cut' any of the four stanzas of the National Anthem - loyalties aside, Guyana has one of the most tuneful with very poignant words- I got goosebumps at the third stanza:

 Great land of Guyana, diverse though our strains, 
We are born of their sacrifice, heirs of their pains, 
And ours is the glory their eyes did not see,

and wished all this election madness could all be over- the latest being the container housing the ballot boxes being broken into!

There was varied music - mainly uplifting with a heavy dash of Gospel supplemented by The Gospel Heralds.

A surprising touch to me were the few pieces in Italian! They also introduced some World music- an invocation by the Xhosa people and  a combined song using lyrics from Nambia and Gujerat ( Western India not Northern!) - I liked the Clicking sound of the former as I remembered a popular Miriam Mabeka  song from childhood. There were a few popular Christmas Carols but on the whole a refreshing introduction to different Live Choral Music. Kudos to the three people manning the musical apparatus- the invited Gospel singers depending on singing over the actual song I thought.

The inside of the Cathedral looked good - it had been under extensive refurbishment and one of the friends who had never visited it liked the stained glass - mmm, more Guyanese need to be invited to appreciate their Country.They had us singing this simple song a few times to spread their message of joy, hope and love by Jeff  Moss:

One small voice can teach the world a song,
Start with one small voice, till another joins along,
Then you'll feel the music growing full and sure and strong,
One small voice can teach the world a song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scd8yK8a19w&feature=related

Munch n' Brunch

Mich and I, being at loose ends on Saturdays, have taken to reviewing the local eateries.
 I came home smelling of oil past its burning point, much to the dogs' delight.  It was unfortunate that the owner decided to tell the kitchen hand to fry up the 'Fat Mithai' just as we were finishing up the shared 'Box-cake' strawberry cupcake. The walnut brownie was good and the ginger biscuit had lost its crunch.
Drinks were a bit limited but she obligingly put on the coffee perculator, unfortunately my penchant for fresh milk-- the closest thing being Box-Milk in Guyana - meant that I had a few sour-tasting mouthfuls until I saw a friend who confirmed that the milk had 'gon-off'. The owner replaced the cup using tinned milk, Mich was happy with her mandarin-orange tea.
The place was fairly small- two arm-spans across but nicely decorated in lime green and pink. This meant everyone could overhear your conversation, so we proceeded to bitch about known political people to keep everyone happy. Air-conditioning on a bit high and unfortunately circulated the burnt oil particles to clothing very readily.
Prices very reasonable-- about $200 per item.
Munch n Brunch is a little cafe in the new mini-Mall next to the Hindu temple on Lamaha St, between Camp and Waterloo Sts,

A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway

Hustling to finish reading the book as the lender got impatient over a year and asked back for it.
It gives snapshots of Paris after the first World War and I was glad the Bookclub did Sebastian Faulks' 'Birdsong' so it added to the mental picture I had of France in that time.
There's a lot of name dropping of ex-pat American writers and their quirks but the saddest one was about Scott Fitzgerald and his wife who seemed jealous of him and accused him of being deficient in the sexual department - how devastating that must have been for him as she was the only woman he had had sex with! In fact, it seems surprising to be in Paris where there was a more open attitude towards that in the 1920's that he simply didn't have the courage to seek solace with another woman.
This book left me feeling a bit sad as being unfamiliar with American authors I read their biographies in Wikipedia and was saddened that their personal lives were such a mess - Mr Hemingway being a victim of the Electro-shock 'therapy' for depression (currently reading about that fiasco in The Shock Doctrine) which spiralled him down even deeper and he killed himself. Apparently a significant percentage of artistic people suffer from depression - like Beethovan. Interesting maybe deep introspection triggers something?
Fascinating to me was how Hemingway's life revolved around drinking and gambling.  Also interesting for me was the description of the primitive skiing in Austria.
I thought he regretted the affair that destroyed his marriage - and he ends the book saying that was the period when he was very poor and very happy.
I'm ending with a perceptive quote of his: 'Those who attract people by their happiness and their performance are usually inexperienced. They do not learn how not to be overrun, and how to go away.'

Who are the losers?

APNU - the latest re-incarnation of the PNC but now including the more racist elements of the WPA both of whom have never managed to convince the Guyanese Public about their suitability to manage the affairs of the country has resorted to their usual cry of being robbed by manipulation of the Statements of Polls at the Elections-- this has been a rallying cry since 1997.

Having been a Presiding Officer back then, I can state that I think the system is a fairly good one - everything is done in an open and Public manner- apart from the Presiding Officer helping the visually disabled to mark their Ballot and let's face it-- hardly significant to make a difference to the final outcome. At the  close of Poll, all the ballots are opened and counted and the final signed Statements of Poll (SOP) handed to the Party agents and copies stuck in the Boxes which are then sealed.  I understand APNU is contending that there are discrepancies between the the SOP in possession of their agents and those official ones! GECOM ought to have a public comparison of all SOPs and this should have been done from the start-- again my understanding was that representatives from the major Parties were present during the verification process and GECOM insisted on the physical hardcopies--

-- as an aside, a pilot told me that it took three days to deliver all the materials to the Hinterland areas-- so logically there was no way the results would be at GECOM the next day-- would it then have been unreasonable to let the further-flung districts cast their ballots at the same time as the Disciplined Services so that their results would be readily available and less confusion on days following the Election?-- just asking.
-- yesterday GECOM released the SOPs on a DVD to all the Political Parties.
As an aside to those not following events-- well I guess you wouldn't bother to read this Blog either (!) - APNU got their supporters out on an unapproved ( by the Police) march and in order to create martyrs, incited the Police who opened fire with Rubber Bullets - saying that it's their right to a peaceful protest-- what are you protesting about again?  There are now moves to boycott businesses apparently supporting the Government - but not some like Banks DIH who is a member of the Private Service Commission supporter of everyone  (as any business would be- buy we stuff whatever your conviction) - the whole thing smacks of frustration at losing-- but, but -- the Opposition controls Parliament so why the Drama??

If the main Opposition Party wasn't so racial it might have appealed to the disgruntled of the current Party which seems to be carrying on - business as usual, not making any conciliatory moves to the other two, mainly I suspect because they have no Plan, or if so, it's just to maintain the Status Quo and therefore are engaged in a desperate walling-off of any outsiders-- including people from within their own Party!
Are we all the losers with a potential stalemate looming?

Russia and Guyana

Interesting the analogy between Russia and Guyana... both ostensibly socialist states, having terrible histories of excessive exploitation of their peoples, but both now moving to centralisation of Government and imposition of Capitalist values under men convinced of their destinies to 'rule' in perpetuity! The creation of a nouveau bourgeoisie class , quite unlike the american robber barons whose protestant upbringing at least led them to establish charitable institutions, establishes that this lot just take and take without giving back!
Ayaan Hirsi Ali in her book 'Nomad' said :   
'Modernity is a permanent state that replaces your former outlook. You can try to fight it, but it is irresistible. It sucks in your young.'
And the young in both countries seem less enthralled by historical struggles and more interested in current performance and will vote accordingly.

And the view from the other side-- someone else's blog

Dem hooligans

by Imran Khan on Friday, 2 December 2011 at 16:39

Since yesterday I’ve had many folks call me for updates on “wha happenin in town”.

“Why dem behavin so?”

“Is de same ting every time dem lose.”

“Dem always got to bruk up and mek trouble.”

“Dem nah like wuk.”

“Dem hooligans at it again nah?”

Let me state at the outset that I have had conversations with persons integrally involved in the process (not Dr. Steve Surujbally or Gocool Boodhoo) for whom I have the highest regard and they assure me that the results as announced by GECOM are not unfair. On that basis I accept the results. Let me also state that I do not endorse any form of physical assault, brutality or destruction of property.

But let me tell you a few things about ‘dem hooligans’.

Dem hooligans are sufferers. They have been made into sufferers not because ‘dem nah like wuk’ (as is the common coolie refrain) but because there is either no wuk fuh dem or only low paying demeaning wuk such as waitressing at fish shops, picking up garbage, shovelling refuse from clogged alleyways or cleaning toilets.

That is what your guvament has done to decent people. Dem hooligans are products of your guvament’s neglect of them.

Dem hooligans long for a decent life; to afford to put clothes on their backs (and not have to rely on hand me downs from farrin); food in their children’s mouths and a roof over their heads. What gives you the right to peace to cruise quickly dilapidating streets in your touch screen control panel Prados while the sufferers suffer?

The world will not suddenly cease on its axis if you are inconvenienced because you (or your driver) have to slip out of your air conditioned office to pick up your daughter at a prestigious private school because dem hooligans out on the street. No really, the world won’t end. Neither will it end if dem hooligans block High Street in Kingston and your daughter can’t get to Lifestyle’s to get her dress for her school’s Christmas party.

Here is a suggestion that you may find revolting: dem hooligans deserve a decent life too.

You live in your lavishly appointed concrete prisons and cast judgment on dem hooligans. You may pretend to be oblivious to it or you may be blissfully ignorant of it but such ignorance or pretence will not reconfigure reality.

Dem hooligans sufferin. And if you was one ah dem hooligans who been sufferin the worst of sufferation for 19 years, whether the result is fair or not, you would be on de streets de same way to let dem big ones know dat yuh sufferin real sufferation. I would.

You know you are beneficiaries of a sickening silent system of affirmative action while dem hooligans are being marginalized, discriminated against and criminalized.

When dem hooligans sit in dem shacks and dem and dem pickney aint got food to eat dem doan tink bout science – social or political. Dem does tink bout wha dem seein around dem.

Dem does tink bout de Range Rovers, Hummers, Lexuses, BMWs, Benzs, Prados and Fortuners. Dem does tink bout de fact dat dem fancy rides are being driven, 95% of de times by people who look a certain way. Dem does tink bout de mansions dat are owned mostly by people who don’t look like dem. Dem does be wonderin how it is dat tings so different fuh dem and so prosperous fuh some others.

Dem hooligans might not be able to prove it but dem know is de system. Dem know de system has been constituted to oppress dem and enrich the rich. Dem hooligans frustrated. Dem eatin tennis roll fuh dinner while you feedin yuh dog prime cut meats.

If we think that such barefaced disparity will continue indefinitely without dem hooligans reaching a breaking point we livin in fairyland. It might not happen now, dem might be able to hold strain for some time more but dem hooligans can’t live in sufferation forever. If we don’t start attending to the needs of dem hooligans de pressure cooker gon explode.

Dem hooligans aint want handouts, dem want a chance – a fair chance to live a decent life. Dem aint marching or begging fuh anything dat dem aint entitled to. Dem marching fuh dem rights. Dem feel cheated, not so much by de results, but by de system which says dat 51% is equal to 100%.

Dem hooligans is people too, dem entitled to equal rights and justice. We deny them at our own peril.

Somone else's Insight - alas - so true!

Dem country coolie

by Imran Khan on Saturday, 3 December 2011 at 12:42

Mercifully Guyana’s bitter racial politics is beginning to show signs of dissipation but there are certain realities which are still prominent in how and why people cast their ballots. The truth must be laid bare for us to be set free.

Why dem always voting Cup?

Why dem holdin back dis country so?

Why dem country coolie so racist?

I don't know for certain that country coolie are racist, I know dem frikken. Blackman in power, coolie man in power is same sufferation fuh dem. Dem accept dat. But dem frikken. 1964 weighs heavy on their consciousness to this day. We might say but dat is almost 50 years ago and how dem could hold on pon dat so? Why we can’t move on? Now is a different time.

Is a different time fuh you. Not dem. The pain of their grandfathers and grandmothers has been meticulously passed from generation to generation subtly bludgeoned into their psyche. Race riots, rape, murder, contra-ban, bandit, choke an rob, mo fyah slow fyah, contempt. Dat ah wha blackman good fah. Yuh go vote fuh dem?

But coolie man run guvament now an yuh still ah punish and dem coolie wha ah run guvament ah thief more than Burnham.

Abi know abi ah punish but abi prefer fuh punish unda coolie man because abi go punish unda blackman too but unda blackman dem dominate abi and treat abi wid contempt. If blackman control tings abi cant walk ah town no mo. When blackman govern, abi frikken.

No matter how dem got to eat salt and rice and sleep in hammock, dem country coolie feel safer wid dem matte coolie in power. Dat is why when blood shed ah Lusignan de country coolie dem protest fuh Roger. Dem aint kay which coolie, dem want any coolie.

Blackman mek dem blood run, spoil dem daughta and tek all dem savings. Blackman mek dem afraid. More than food, is protection dem want. Protection is their freedom.

You may be horrified by the reality but is blackman got to tek a lot of responsibility fuh coolie fear. Blackman can’t erase the past but blackman can right the present.

When country coolie go to de hospitals, ministries, schools, post office, passport office, police stations where blackman dominate, dem treat coolie wid contempt. Country coolie are terrified because dem know de treatment dem gon get. Dem pass a raise not so much to get through but to get through without the disrespect.

Because dem country coolie can’t read an write too well you insult dem. You holler pon dem an snigger at dem, you mock dem an demean dem.

You are educated, can speak proper English, dress well and know who Martin Carter was so you mek ignorant country coolie feel ashamed and inferior. Dese same country coolie who toil in the sun from morning til night and plant and reap and feed the nation. They are made to feel like zero.

Country coolie are not prone to instinctive outbursts and immediate reactions. Dem built differently, dem recoil. Dem gon bear the shouts and insults and maltreatment but their revenge is de X next to de Cup. The Cup people know how you treat them and they exploit it at the bottomhouse campaign where you are absent but where country coolie are obedient and committed. In the meantime Cup people give you jump and wine and platitudes on the platform.

Congress Place can apologise and such apology may liberate them and be heralded by whatever is left of the intellectual class but to country coolie it will be empty.

Country coolie will never leave the Cup once the day-to-day contempt (which breeds fear) is prevalent. The change won’t happen in one month of campaigning. Change and trust, slow, painful and frustrating, will come when we make a personal commitment to treat each other with mutual respect, every day, no exceptions.

• • 
    

Advice to the New Government

Wake up and smell the coffee as they say-- the voters are telling you in no uncertain terms that this hand-wash-hand business you're engaged in, is unacceptable! You've lost a whopping 6% of your comfortable majority and will have to engage in Horse-Trading to get anything passed in Parliament, judging from your modus operandi.

Now is the time to shake those Jagdeo cronies who will only continue to bring the Party into disrepute - witness the actions of two non-PPP-ites throwing their weight around on Election Day. 

Failure to get your house in order will resulting in a bruising punishment in the next round-- your nemesis has maintained their numbers - their 'race-voting' has remained loyal-- yours will not be so easily led! Start getting more professional - back to Cheddi's lean, clean government - shame you've moved so far away- you've forgotten what that is!