Quite frequently over the past decade, I have voiced, in print and on television, the habit of describing my Native Land Guyana, as “This Big, Beautiful, Blighted Land”.
A few acquaintances and fans, knowing my love for a country I have never left for more than a few weeks at any time, would wonder at my now personalized – and strongly-felt-description. I now explain to those curious enquirers in this public manner.
“Big?” – Yes. In two contexts, for the purpose of this journalistic chat, my Guyana is “big”. Compared to Suriname and most of our Caricom/Caribbean neighbours, we have much more land mass. And yes, we are also big enough – very much so – to accommodate the less than one million souls still within our borders, and qualified to be Guyanese.
Getting ahead of myself in terms of the blight portion, this “bigness” is an embarrassment to me. Why? Because when I look at little places like Antigua, Barbados, Belize and Suriname, I admire their quality of life which my “big” Guyana yearns for. My big Guyana with rivers, forests, gold, bauxite, sand, sugar, rice and diamonds. Big Guyana wherein the takings from those resources are never distributed equitably. Or not managed in such a way to avoid 21st-century blackouts, floodings and under-employment and need. Amongst less than a million souls!
Beautiful? Undoubtedly blessed by Nature, most of my Guyana is lush, green picturesque and peaceful. Pristine savannah-long, clean islands and delightful flora and fauna are really enjoyed by just a relative few. The thousands of Guyanese coastlanders must endure under-developed villages, a stink Capital City with a National Disgrace for a National Cemetery.
Blighted? My Native Land has to be! Citizens usually get the administrators they vote for and voters, non-voters and all their Guyanese children seem to be paying dearly for some collective sin committed by them. Or on their behalf!
How else can one explain Guyana’s economic stagnancy, sometimes backwardness, since 1966? From Burnham to Bharrat, my Guyana has never been El Dorado but a Case Study of political power-grabbing, economic mismanagement and personal greed.
Blight is defined, variously, as “a plant-disease or injury, marked by withering and death of parts”; “an impairing or frustrating influence; a deteriorated condition” Surely this Guyana Plant needs serious attention before death steps in.
Need I enumerate the numerous manifestations of our National Blight? I spare you/us that unending list. Suffice to declare that the Blight emanates from Human Beings – those chosen to chart our destiny through periodic polls.
Republic? Well, from 1970 it was decreed that we should live in an Under-developed State with images and institutions all our own, removed from the one-time “Mother Country”, Britain. From its earliest origins, that status purported “a government in which supreme power is held by the citizens entitled to vote, and is exercised by elected officers and representatives, governing according to law”.
What a classic (desireable) definition. If only that could be true! Mankind has come up with various social, political and governmental structures throughout the ages. The “people” should be the ultimate beneficiaries of these structures. But are they ever? They choose those they think, hope are best suited to guide and manage. Alas! Do the PPP/C and APNU ever go into the communities and consult with their voters on issues these days? With whom does real power really reside!?
So there you have it my countrymen – our big, beautiful, blighted Republic. I’m approaching age 70. Slowly. Dare I hope for a removal of the blight before I expire? What does the evidence reveal, for the immediate future? Discuss.
Race – and Kissoon’s Questions
I tire of this thing named “Race”. It is generally accepted that all mankind, originated from the continent of Africa. (“White” researchers revealed that “Black” finding.) It is to be presumed that early man boosted one race, one ethnicity, genetic make-up. Migration to other climates was one reason advanced for later differences.
Certain groupings found it advantageous and profitable to promote one type of homo sapiens above another. “Racism” was “created”.
My take on local race-relations, in my own simplified nutshell is as follows: subtle, or open divide-and-rule techniques by the colonial British amplified the difference between the descendants of the slaves and the indentured; from 1955 the major politicians exploited the ethnic situation for electoral gain; then came the sixties turmoil and permanent insecurities and suspicions between the two major groups; enter 1992 and the return of the Jagans and the emergence of a Jagdeo.
Throughout these eras, save for the dislocations of the riotous sixties, the Guyanese “races” managed to co-exist productively; Peace prevailed even as the politicians mis-managed our resources. We live, play, pray, work and watch cricket together. That hardly happens in Kashmir, the Sudan or Northern Nigeria and Iraq.
I concede that the unequal distribution of the national resources has induced anger among the discriminated, disadvantaged groups. I appreciate that the rampant discrimination and favouritism fuel feelings of racial preference. And I know of resentment. But resentment and rejection do not always mean racism – one group against another just for who they are.
I submit still that equal opportunity – seen and felt – will seriously diminish division. I do not experience the polarization some politicians speak about. Simply put, we should ask the letter-writers, the commentators and the Assembly’s Speaker and concerned politicians, just what they are doing about the Racial Polarisation they have identified, or discovered.
Gender Rights Activist Vidyaratha Kissoon listed seventeen questions which should be asked of the Guyana Police in order to analyse the thinking and resultant attitudes which attend their handling of abused children including young victims of rape.
Bless Mr Kissoon’s soul. For his sustained efforts, over the years, to offer some rationale for the Force’s attitudinal approaches to the more humanitarian challenges of their career.
One comment from me: the bulk of our Police Force’s membership is “worker”, as distinct from “professional”. Notwithstanding the numerous training courses. I can develop the point next time. Meanwhile, pray for abused children.
Until …
*1) A personal farewell to journalist Courtney Gibson. A consummate professional gentleman
I was never “lucky” to hear him raise his voice. But I’ll be relating tales of Courtney and me in the Soviet Union’s Russia.
`Til next week!
(Comments? allanafenty@yahoo.com)
