I was waiting for the tears to flow as I watched the flag rise on Wednesday night. I was waiting to shout that I was proud to be a Guyanese. But it didn’t happen for me. I suppose I just did not allow myself to feel anything because there was too much going on in my mind and the large crowd did not permit an intimate connection with what was happening. I was caught up in thoughts about the bigger picture of what it meant to be a Guyanese and not just the ceremony that was happening before me.
Over the last few weeks, green, yellow, black, red and white decorated the land on buildings standing high and low as well as vehicles and even the garments that some chose to wear. “If you selling red, yellow, white, black and green cloth and you ain’ get rich during this season, it gon never happen!” was one hilarious declaration and quite telling. A fever of patriotism has swept over this country. Never before have I seen the Guyana flag stand so prominently and such an influx of overseas-based Guyanese. Is this what turning 50 feels like for people also? Is it a feeling that you are relevant and beloved because you have
