It has been a painful week for all Guyanese. The murders of Joel and Isaiah Henry and Haresh Singh left me feeling depleted, to the point where I feel guilty of even thinking of experiencing any form of joy in the foreseeable future.
I know that this is an unhealthy attitude to have but a huge part of me feels as if I should endure some amount of misery for the pain inflicted on three children who had their lives snuffed out brutally. Guilt consumed me. No parent or society should know that pain, ever. Guyana has always been a racially volatile place. A reality that many of us don’t like to acknowledge because it would mean doing personal introspection and holding ourselves accountable. It has always felt as if we were on the verge of tipping over and even more so over the past five months. The social-contract between the state and the people feels as if it is hanging on by thread and both major ethnic groups have been armed with their own truths.
