There is no making sense of the events of Saturday, January 26; events that have added yet another bloodstained blotch to our country’s history. Nor is there any explaining or comprehending what occurred in the wee hours of that morning at Lusignan. No one need question why the blood of innocents had to be spilled yet again. Like all the other horrific murders that have occurred over the past six or seven years, it just should never have happened.
Most of us would not have known the Thomases, Harrilalls, Mohameds, Bakshes, Rooplalls, Ramsinghs or Gourdats of Tract A, Lusignan. Nor for that matter, any of the other civilians, who over the years, were targeted by men with guns in their hands and with murder in their hearts. Oh, that it could have remained that way; that all of these people so senselessly cut down in their youth and in their prime could have continued with their relatively uneventful lives, interacting with their friends and neighbours.
The survivors who were in the homes where the atrocities occurred will never be the same again, having been within a hair’s breadth of suffering the same fate. One can only imagine, but never truly understand the numbing fear that must have and probably still does hold them in its grip. Neighbours whose homes were not targeted must feel relieved, yet still terrified as if they would have won some macabre lottery that saw their lives spared, as they likely relive the horror of ‘what if,’ each time they close their eyes.
One does not have to be a resident of Tract A to have felt the gamut of emotions that would have gone through and still run high in that community; the fear, anger, deep sorrow and disgust among others. Fear because to some, life has no value. Anger that those who do not value their own lives could dispatch others over and again and with impunity; sorrow that people could be violated in their homes, when “one of the hallmarks of home is to feel safe.” Disgust at the fact that this is not the first incident of its kind, except for the scale on which it occurred, and no one can guarantee that it would be the last.
Of these, anger would remain the dominant emotion and people express this in different ways. I am a pacifist. So while I do get angry, I have only very rarely experienced any sort of roiling rage. And I do now. That is because when tragedies occur, we want someone to blame – to direct our anger at. We can certainly blame the men who fired the shots – whoever they are. What about the ones who put the guns and ammunition in their hands or made them easily accessible? What of those who have continually failed to protect all of us and provide the leadership necessary to curtail their activities in the past, or have turned a blind eye to them?
Do we also blame ourselves for not demanding more from our leaders?
As a small child, I remember my grandmother saying every time she saw someone going through some personal hell, “There but for the grace of God go I.” I never fully grasped what she meant until I was perhaps in my teens, but it is a phrase I have used very often since then.
Just over a week ago, I used it while commiserating via email with a colleague in Kenya over the senseless acts of violence there that have left many dead. I recalled that unlike that country, Guyana had no violence following our last elections and that we all gave ourselves a pat on the back, particularly the government.
But we have had ongoing criminal violence that seems to have no solution nor end, so what was there to feel chuffed about? What makes us any different from any nation where there is unending bloodshed? Is it because the murderers in our midst prefer to operate under the cover of darkness in order to keep us all guessing as to who they could be?
Next steps
By the time this column appears, the people at Lusignan, like others in the past, would have buried or cremated their dead, but will continue to mourn them way beyond the national day set aside for that. The rest of the country must seek ways of moving forward rather than succumbing to the life-sucking apathy that sees us sitting and bemoaning what Guyana has become. In order to do so, however, we would need to demand a change in the way things are done. There must be a shift from reacting or not acting at all where security is concerned. Can we have peace while criminals continue to wage war? Can we heal or move forward while we live in fear? No amount of investments or advancements can give us hope for the future if lurking at the back of our minds is the thought that we have no sanctuary. It’s time that our leaders see the big picture.
