Dear Editor,
John Mair is at it again, working tirelessly to lift the curtain and introduce some light on this fabled oil wealth of ours, no longer a fable, but the stuff of dreams come true. It can be so, but is it? Will it prove to be so? These are the tantalizing and captivating discourses that he has put together in his latest piece of workmanlike art titled: Oil Dorado; Guyana’s Black Gold. It is a worthy read, a vitally necessary one for all Guyanese.
From the cold, but cozy, ensconces of his residence in the green sward of Winston Churchill’s England, Guyanese born John Mair has achieved a notable first. He has succeeded in gathering a broad cohort of interested, engaged, optimistic, watchful, critical native sons and daughters of this sun-kissed soil now gifted fabulous quantities of oil under the roof of his new creation. By itself, that is some achievement, a commendable circle of inclusivity from which there could be learning, much applying. And what a creation it is! I am privileged to share space and letters with Guyanese brethren that I agree and disagree with, have regard for, and others that regard the way that life must be lived a shade, sometimes radically, differently from me. The range of visions, as articulated in stirring and impassioned voices, inspired pens, range from the heights of the heavens to the breadth of what is all too humanly. Should the former take hold and take wing, then 780,000 Guyanese stand to prosper enormously; and if I undercounted by only one-one dozen or one score, one thousand or one hundred thousand (with a bow to our neighborhood visitors), then I asked to be pardoned for a moment of weakness and failure.
It could turn out to be hallowed ground for a great many Guyanese, and not just a favoured few, which somehow seem always to be the plots and subplots that transform the grand promise of Guyana to where it is, always has been. This oil can, indeed turn out to be black gold of the purest assayer’s refinement and measurement, but only if all Guyanese get to taste its rich, honeyed fruits; may it not mutate to be the nectars that mesmerize the men who control it to the point where they lose control of themselves. It has happened before, and with better men in near and far places. My hope, my wish, my fervent plea is for the black despairs that have so often characterized this black gold found in foreign places do not visit and stay on an extended basis this domestic hearth that we call Guyana.
Everybody is talking about us now. With a burning zeal in their hearts. With a newfound, muted regard in their eyes. It is not anymore of Guyana, pray tell, but where is that? But, of suddenly oil rich Guyana, that is where the richest action is! We have arrived on the world’s stage and how! This is what Guyanese-born John Mair set out to accomplish with his latest work of fine art, through a spiderweb of Guyanese writers, thinkers, prophets, visionaries, and I would want to believe unsullied and devoted patriots. Guyana will need every one of such that it can get. From leaders to followers to disbelievers to its company of fearless warriors. Yes, we will need those also, for wherever there is oil, there is toil of pugnacious and pungent kinds. It is part of the character of oil, where the compression of spirts all too frequently lead to contentiousness and conflict, some of which we have encountered already.
My position is simple: we handle this oil, this black gold right, and we will be alright. We take a different road and this oil that encompasses so much rich potential could turn out to be the longest darkest endless night of our lost souls. So much given, so little realized. John Mair harnessed all of this in his latest production: Oil Dorado; Guyana’s Black Gold. I endorse the entirety of it all without qualification or condition. All Guyana’s children should make it a must read.
Sincerely,
GHK Lall
