Notes from a small island
A weblog by Jonathan Ali


Friday, October 21, 2005  

Try telling the mother of a child whose son has been brutally tortured for weeks that the situation isn't so bad.

Try telling East Indians who are being targetted for kidnapping as though they were living in Rwanda, that they should be 'comfortable'.

Try telling the family of an old-age pensioner, after the cold-blooded killing of their father, that the situation is worse elsewhere.

Try telling a grieving wife and two infants that their father, who was kidnapped and beheaded, that we are dramatising the situation.

Try telling a terrorised nation--that has seen its crime rate soar over the past three years to become the worst in the country's history, and that has made it one of the most unsafe countries in the world to live--that you feel 'comfortable'.

Try telling a group of children playing steelband in a yard...try telling the innocent people who were injured and narrowly escaped death by recent bombings, that the situation is being sensationalised.

Try telling us all that despite the fact that our authorities at the highest level have a nefarious relationship with criminal elements and that the police force is involved--we should be like you and feel comfortable.


-- From a letter by Dr George Laquis, chairman of the Committee for Social Transformation, to the newly-appointed High Commissioner for Canada, Howard Strauss, who has been reported as saying that crime in T&T is being sensationalised. The extract is taken from a story in today's Guardian; no link because it doesn't appear to have been put on the website. (I wonder if Laquis CC'd this letter to the prime minister and minister of national security?)

posted by Jonathan | 8:42 AM 0 comments


Monday, October 03, 2005  

In his column (link good for a week) in today's Guardian, Fr Henry Charles muses on what it means to be a republic; specifically what being a republic means to us here in sweet T&T. He finds he can come up with no better definition than that of Ramlogan, in VS Naipaul's novel, The Suffrage of Elvira:

In the novel, Ramlogan and Chittaranjan are neighbours, and trading insults across the fence is their daily routine. Sometimes the volume of insult increases, as it does one day when a breadfruit from Ramlogan’s tree lands on Chittaranjan’s roof. A window pane breaks, and Chittaranjan is roused to eloquent fury.

Ramlogan gets the worse of the exchange, until it occurs to him to attack Chittaranjan through his wife. “Chittaranjan,” he says, “the next time one of your wife chickens come in my yard, don’t bother to look for it. Because that night I eating good…everybody chicken think they could just walk in my yard, as if my yard is a republic.”


To the Trini, in Charles' estimation, a republic is a place where anyone can do (and these days, more and more, is doing) whatever he likes, just like Mrs Chittaranjan's chickens.

And he comes to the depressing conclusion:

How can you be expected to govern a country that has 246 different kinds of cheese? Charles De Gaulle of France once famously asked.

It’s manageable, compared to governing Trinidad, I sometimes think. This is a republic where everybody is a nation, and the motto is Napoleonic: the state is me!

posted by Jonathan | 10:07 AM 0 comments
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