Ol Higue
Ol’ woman wid de wrinkled skin,
Leh de ol’ higue wuk begin.
Put on yuh fiery disguise,
Ol’ woman wid de weary eyes
Shed yuh swizzly skin.
Ball o’ fire, raise up high
Raise up till yuh touch de sky.
Land ‘pon top somebody roof
Tr’ipse in through de keyhole – poof!
Open yuh ol’ higue eye.
Find de baby where ‘e lie
Change back faster than de eye.
Find de baby, lif de sheet,
Mek de puncture wid yuh teet’,
Suck de baby dry.
Before ‘e wake an’ start to cry
Change back fast, an’ out you fly.
Find de goobie wid yuh skin
Mek de semidodge, then – in!
Grin you ol’ higue grin.
In yuh dutty powder gown
Next day schoolchildren flock yuh round.
“Ol’ higue, ol’ higue!” dey hollerin’ out
Tek it easy, hold yuh mout’
Doan leh dem find you out.
Dey gon mark up wid a chalk
Everywhere wheh yuh got to walk
Yuh bridge, yuh door, yuh jealousie
But cross de marks an’ leh dem see
Else dey might spread de talk.
Next night yuh gone out jus’ de same,
Wrap up in yuh ball o’ flame,
To find an’ suck another child,
But tikkay! Rumour spreading wild.
An’ people know yuh name.
Fly across dis window sill,
Why dis baby lyin’ so still?
Lif’ de sheet like how yuh does do,
Oh God! Dis baby nightgown blue!
Run fo’ de window sill!
Woman yuh gon run or not?
Doan mind de rice near to de cot.
De smell o’ asafoetida
Like um tek effect ‘pon you.
Yuh wan’ get ketch or what?
But now is too late for advice,
‘Cause yuh done start to count de rice
An’ if yuh only drop one grain
Yuh must begin it all again.
But yuh gon count in vain.
Whuh ah tell yuh?
Day done, light an’ rice still mountin’
Till dey wake an’ kyetch yuh countin’
An’ pick up de big fat cabbage broom
An’ beat you all around de room.
Is now yuh should start countin’
Whaxen! Whaxen! Whaxen! Plai!
Yuh gon pay fo’ yuh sins befo’ yuh die.
Lash she all across she head
Yuh suck me baby till um dead?
Whaxen! Whaxen! Plai!
Yuh feel de manicole ‘cross yuh hip?
Beat she till blood start to drip.
“Ow me God! Yuh bruk me hip!
Done now, nuh? alyuh done!”
Is whuh yuh sayin’ deh, you witch?
Done? Look, alyuh beat de bitch.
Whaxen! Whaxen! Pladai! Plai!
Die, you witch you. Die.
Whaxen! Whaxen! Plai!
Wordsworth McAndrew
One of the most distinctive, identifiable and representative poems in Guyanese literature is “Ol Higue” by Wordsworth McAndrew. It stands out in several ways as a Guyanese poem. National literature is never just one thing or one type – it is the sum total of its writers and their art: people, society, political base and human experience. McAndrew’s “Ol Higue” happens to be a poem with qualities such as subject, language and style, that demonstrate many things about Guyanese literature.
It is among such works that may be described as the face of Guyanese literature because of their distinguishing features. Another good example of this kind of work is the song “Not A Blade of Grass” by Dave Martins, which may also be compared with McAndrew’s poem. Martins’ work is part of Guyanese oral and folk literature. It is reminiscent of the work of American folk, blues, rock and traditional pop musician Bob Dylan, which was recognised by the Nobel Prize Academy as literature. But it also has this special place because it is so identifiable and appeals to popular sentiment in such a way that it is often jokingly called Guyana’s second or unofficial national anthem.
