Dear Editor,
I heard a preacher saying that hardly any more do we adhere to boundaries, and that many things done are beyond the boundary – not within specified limits. And he gave a good analogy: the game of cricket.
We treat things done beyond the boundary as in cricket, where boundaries are commended, applauded and a cause for jubilation. And he is so correct, for we seldom keep practices within the prescribed rules; whatever is done and whoever over-steps the boundary are celebrated.
We applaud and celebrate those who come by wealth through deceptive and questionable means, including barefaced corruption, because that has become the norm, and no one is stunned or outraged by it. In fact, one with an opportunity to do so but fails to seize the time is mocked and condemned, and the more ruthless and colossal the game the more famous the villain. Still in the game of cricket, there is a line over which the bowler is not allowed to step or he will be penalized.
I guess most of us have become accustomed to strange and odd things that are added daily to the existing bizarre charade we encounter, and we no more fret ourselves over them.
It is like young men turning up for interviews with their pants waist below their derrières. Then there are women who appear to be of sound mind parading the street as if they are in a pageant or about to take a bath; well, I guess to each his/her own.
Well with the taxi/minibus drivers, ‘yuh done know,’ unless you are a tourist. There is that disgusting loud nonsensical noise loaded with foul expressions referred to as music, while such ignorance is justified with, “this is me khar/bus.” The drivers are not the least bothered that you are paying them for a service.
Then you have people who are employed but don’t know their function – seriously! I always thought it a failure on the part of employers when employing anyone only to inform them of their ‘dos’ and not the ‘don’ts’; just as they are told what is required of them, so too should it be equally important that they be told what not to do.
You see and hear things that make you wonder, not sure if you should laugh or cry.
A concerned citizen draws to the attention of a traffic cop on duty an impending breakage on a road which spells danger; the cop’s response was, “Dat is naw me jab.” All he was concerned with was stopping vehicles, checking for licences, overloading and maybe damaged trafficators. One of the funniest things I’ve been seeing recently: A traffic cop stands daily at a pedestrian crossing directing traffic, stopping both pedestrians and vehicles – now you go, now you stop – so what’s the purpose of the zebra sign? Why can’t that cop’s time be employed in a much more productive manner, or better yet stand there to ensure that all drivers who are reckless, disregarding both signs and pedestrians are charged. Really that is what ought to be done, because as soon as that traffic cop is gone, it’s back to square one. Worse yet at night, no one stops and the sign disappears, so that’s why you have to be harsh with them. But hardly anyone sees anything odd about it, not a single senior officer takes notice.
Now, a very huge truck – massive – loaded with large pieces of scrap iron packed to the heavens (you can hear the drag on the truck’s motor as it struggles along) which is covered with a ragged discoloured brownish/black netting-like material that makes it look hideous, a monstrosity; it is death on the move.
It attracts the attention of everyone and engenders a sense of foreboding, except in the case of traffic cops who would often strain a fly from the drink yet swallow a camel. So this vehicle with its rugged and twisted metal cargo will labour along the Linden Highway to its destination, only to return again and again. And so the show goes on and on until…
At a statutory meeting a councillor in observing and objecting to an egregious malpractice was derogatory in his reference to fellow councillors, who forthwith took objection and requested an apology. This was certainly in order but they did not with the same vigour seek to pursue and correct the impropriety that was pointed out – the thing that really mattered.
Now that’s what I call cooking with smoke, and that seems to be the style of many organisations, boards, councils, etc. They skirt around the real hard-core issues, preferring to waste time splitting hairs, while some of them have more than their fair share of professional mind-blowers.
And lastly, Editor, we have folks who have worked all over the world and boast of having to toe the line, of being on their Ps and Qs, but back here at home it’s a different ball game.
Why? Because being abroad they need the job; back home they behave as if the job needs them. I tell you, we are good at doing odd crazy things; we haven’t moved forward one inch beyond a house and car.
But I guess this is the paradox of our times.
Yours faithfully,
Frank Fyffe
