We must never allow our differences to tear away at the fabric of being Guyanese

Dear Editor, 

A few days ago I shared a story of a 30-year-old man who had been abandoned by his relatives at a hospital in Berbice.

An accident 10 years ago left him paralyzed and abandoned at the age of 20 in a hospital that he now calls home.

In the Tracy Khan story, the man recounted his life before the accident, his reality now and his zeal to get better and walk again.

What followed in the timeline were comments of support and prayers for him to be better and for him to do better.

Those prayers and well wishes and thoughts came from a wide cross section of Guyanese.

In that moment, his race did not matter, his religion did not matter, his background did not matte.

What mattered was our humanity to reach out to a fellow human who is hurting, someone we don’t even know, and to be his shoulder and his strength and his will to be better.

A few weeks ago, a speeding car plunged overboard into a trench. The injured were pulled out and among them was a young girl who appeared lifeless.

A man rushed forward and began CPR. He pumped on her chest, breathed into her mouth and continued the procedure over and over and over until there was a cough and movement in her young frail body.

You could see he was raw with emotions and many around him were teary eyed. It was as if they were all staring at a miracle. Life had just been blown into this young girl and it happened before their eyes.

In that moment and in that time, her race and his race did not matter. In that time, her religion or his, did not matter.

What mattered is that there was a person in need and there was someone there who without a second thought, threw himself forward and never budged until he was sure, there was life again.

My fellow Guyanese, all we truly have is each other. We might agree at times and disagree many times, but we must never, never allow our differences and our disagreements to tear away at our humanity and to damage the fabric of who we are, the fabric of being Guyanese, the fabric of being Guyana.

My 20 years in the media have taken me across this dear land of ours. I have seen the rivers and plains, I have turned my face and smiled at the sunshine and I have also enjoyed the cover that became lush by the rains.

I have witnessed the best of Guyana and I have also had some glimpses of a tired nation at its worst.

But in all of this, I have seen the fabric of Guyana, woven majestically by different people, with different beliefs and different cultures, but all holding on to the one humanity.

I have turned my hands curlingly to beats of the Indian tassa and I have closed my eyes and moved my shoulders to the beating of African drums.

I have enjoyed the metagee and kanki of Victoria and the curry and dhal of Mahaica.

We take these for granted at times, but when blended together, they become knitted into an even stronger fabric of Guyana.

Many days I wake up tired and wounded and deep in thoughts about this nation of ours. Honestly I worry about whether we are praying enough for her, building her up, breathing new life into her and doing our best to take good care of her.

I worry that we have not been doing enough.

But as the sun goes down on every day, it rises over a new one. And that gives us the opportunity to do better, to be better, to grow up and to take better care.

I have no doubt that this nation’s best days are ahead. I have no doubt that we will stand together and smile together, and walk and talk and laugh and gaff together and we see a wounded and tired nation get better.

But as we await those best days that are ahead, we are living in the now.

As we live in the now and as we face each new day, let us remember that we are woven into a beautiful fabric that sits on our shoulders, a beautiful fabric that has made us free, a beautiful fabric we must care for, a beautiful fabric, we call Guyana.

Don’t allow anyone to tear that fabric apart. 

The colours of that fabric are always better together than they will ever be apart. 

Yours faithfully,

Gordon Moseley