Dear Editor,
I make no pretence at being even a watered-down version of the once Mighty Chalkdust. But I confess that I, too, ‘Ah Fraid Karl.’ When a man can turn his back on glorious Britannica, then something is up. It is time for all Guyanese to stand to attention; these guys (at least this one) are serious.
The renouncing of coveted British citizenship confirms what I have been saying all along. Though now a restatement of the commonplace, it is still worth repeating: all roads lead to Guyana. All the action is in Guyana. All the ripe, low hanging fruit is right here in Guyana. All travels end here. Guyana is now a welcoming haven with her cry: Give me your tired (world travelers), your poor (capitalists), Your huddled masses (adventurers and predators). Guyana is the place to be; the newest, richest, widest open frontier on the planet.
Come! All comers. Re-migrant diaspora suddenly remembering a place named Guyana; favourite political sons (daughters, too) finding comforting sanctuary under flag and conkie (as good a substitute for apple pie or strawberry shortcake); and the riffraff and misfits sure to be lured to the irresistible seduction that is Guyana. Who is leaving now? Who is planning on retaining foreign citizenship now?
Why leave when there is so much oil wealth right here? Why have the divided loyalties (alleged) of feet in separate planes when the oil wells are like apartments in a high-rise, so close that they share common walls? I think I should take out the old shovel and check out the backyard. One never knows….
More to the point, and very seriously, I think the former British subject, now legit contender for a range of candidacies is one smart cookie. After all, Guyana is the richest sweepstakes in the world. And after all, his name doesn’t have ‘green’ in it for ornamentation. Further, I hear that those North Sea reserves near to the British Isles are running a tad on the low side. Why bet on a prospect past its prime, a has been, when a familiar local world is at the feet?
I see this the move as that of a seasoned political mandarin nicely positioning self to tell the guys with the hardhats, hard briefcases, and hard handshakes what’s going down, and how to get with the programme, Guyanese style. That would be, practised Guyanese political style. All those critics, who carp about local political figures lacking long-term strategic thinking and comprehensive visions of what to do with all that oil money better think again.
Men are thinking outside of the barrel (excuse me, outside the box) on this one. Wise men do not relinquish a great deal for a raw deal. That oil out there is the real deal, a sweetheart of a deal. Anybody (me too) would surrender ten passports like that one, to get a ringside ticket to the bigtime. Truth be told, this is not as much of a reckless or unfavourable gamble as it may appear. Political people know many material things, which the little people like me don’t. They are on the inside of sure things. With due regard to all the noisy dissonances, that elections may already be a done deal: sewn up, other than for the logistics of polishing the protocols and refining the final numbers.
What a racket! No surprise that the other group is putting on such a brave face and a spirited fight. That must be the biggest game in town. Elections, that is. Somebody’s goose is smoked. In the traditional Guyanese manner, I have to hedge my bets support both horses, cheer from both sides of the mouth, and somehow side with the winner.
For me, that means Uncle Sam. Shale works for me. And by the way, Exxon’s dividends are safer and more confidence-inducing than any touted or speculated cash guarantees; has more purchasing power, too. I’ll take my chances. Better to leave the junkyard dogfights to the locals versed in those brawling vicious arts. When a man says goodbye to his queen, then he is planning to be a king somewhere else. And for that calculation, there is no place like home.
Yours faithfully,
GHK Lall
