The events related here took place in a relatively quiet East Coast Demerara village and were told to me by a sister. Even though this column is about sharing the experiences of women regardless of what they are, I thought long and hard about whether to write this as I was saddened when it was related to me; it is a reflection of the society in which we live.
“I sitting on my back step the other afternoon good, good,” the sister began, “then I just see a police van pull up and stop by the house opposite me and I wondering what really happening.
“Before a tell you what the police do, leh me say who living in the house. Well this young boy, he get put out by he father and he went and build up a lil house on the land opposite me and he start living deh.
