Dear Editor,
It has been a year filled with everything for everyone: the serious, the frivolous, the dubious, and the ludicrous, among many other enervating things. In no particular order, this is how I look back upon 2018. It is not one for the record books.
In January and to kickstart the year, the Hon. Ronald Bulkan, Minister of Communities, was taken to task for overstepping and interfering in the workings of City Hall. In December, that same minister and ministry had to answer the cries of citizens and the call of duty by running to the rescue of the now officially bankrupt City Hall with a huge garbage debt bailout. Who is overstepping now? Where are the objectors of January?
Also, very early in 2018, the Beacon Foundation offered terminal cancer patients a place of peace and dignity to wend down the days of grueling personal journeys. It was a wonderful stirring development. As the year progressed, so did that same dreaded disease climb all the way to the head of the land with its cold unsparing clutches; it is a scourge of unknown but growing disturbing proportions. There are many hands helping, like those at Beacon; more are needed.
In February, a new political party was launched; others are slowly emerging. Good things in and of themselves; but with as much traction, longevity, and original identity as a snowflake in a sizzling furnace. Swallowed up when meaningful (threatening); ignored or ridiculed when otherwise. Look at the recent Tea Party in America and learn a lesson; when one goes further back and checks on splinter groups, new arrivals, threatening blocs, breakaways, and men with ideas and drive, there is a common denominator: they get absorbed or overwhelmed. American politics is instructive. Has happened here, too.
Throughout the year, local boy makes good, as in Shimron Hetmyer, made me want to watch cricket again; and to follow the game like before. I am moved by his exploits. As the runs keep coming, he keeps blooming; perhaps, it is time for me to do some returning and supporting. Along with Shai Hope, he was a rare bright spot in West Indies cricket. This was blotted out by the disappointment in the other locals (Hemraj, Bishoo) who did not rise to the opportunity and occasion of the big moment.
In March, a minister (of the government) had the class to apologize for language unbecoming. In December and prior sessions, parliamentary members raise hackles and generate scorn through conduct unsavory and standards unspeakable. They should hold each other accountable, call one other out, put the wayward on the spot, and paint them in a nice neutral colour. I suggest scarlet.
I think something is wrong: Venezuelans want to come here; and so, too, do the Cubans and Chinese and Haitians. But we continue wanting to go anywhere but here. I know: hard as a green guava; tense; discriminatory; bare; yet foreigners feel they can come and make it here (or from here). Oil is not a snare for them. Not yet. Oh, have to say something about oil. Selling my shares; investing in sand: hope to build roads, houses, airports, and helipads. Thinking about a dealership (any kind) -nice multipurpose shelter. Tax only; so no fancy ideas, please.
One great growth area has to be social media. It keeps attracting more pundits and scurrilous presences. I understand that they have a lovely time venting, castigating, stalking, backstabbing, name-calling, character assassinating, and race-mongering to their hearts content. For the most part, it has to be a paradise for fools; not to forget child molesters, mobsters, and assorted losers.
The more I hear about crime in Guyana, the more I wonder who is police and who is teef. I submit that if there is a reprioritization with exclusive focus upon white-collar crime, that there will be very little black handed, red-shirted, greenback-muscled trouble in the streets. Think of this: if business and political vagabondage are targeted, then the fabulous sums gained under the table would dry up overnight. The poor bandits would not have any places to ply their trade, or loaded people to help relieve from the weight of their pickings. In fact, loaded people would be a thing of the past: with only honest money to spend, alcoholism would soon be a forgotten ancient plague. I can see temperance clubs springing up where there are watering holes currently.
I observed lots of road building in 2018; somehow we don’t seem to be moving in any direction, or going anywhere. There is another first for Guyana: stationary dervishes. But Guyanese are never standing still; rather, they are always pushing the boundaries of creativity, adaptability, and versatility. Birds in hair rollers? What next: cocaine in roti? Could always claim it is that rather spicy delicacy -coconut choka. They do say that coconut oil is good for the soul. I have to hurry and patent that one quickly and get in the transshipment business. Naan, anyone? Of course, it is stuffed. Yeah, I know business is now in the maturity stage of the product life cycle; and the departing diplomat did add that parting ominous auld lang syne of “more extraditions to follow.” Like I said, the best gig in this town is to be a political operator. Talk all day, take any and every position, and then do absolutely nothing. Come to think of it, that is the job description of ministers of government (religion, too), political critics, oil grinches, (and re-migrant wise guys). Wishes for a better New Year next year.
Yours faithfully,
GHK Lall
