Thoughts of a minibus traveller

Craving there for de small packets of four sweet biscuit.. vanilla, strawberry, chocolate, big 4.. but you say no no until you pass the shop and you let go because is either you succumb to this or you let things fall apart. You know it not right to fall for the temptations.. but somethings just gotta give. And so you start with a lemonade.. in one shop .. and you tink arite.. but you go to anodda shop and get a Recrerdo fake oreo. Gums are brusing where the teeth no longer exist but you dont care because is only this time.. and then you go into another shop and you ask for a pack of festival cookies - and de lady bring you strawberry and you remember de loved one who no longer talk to you who like strawberry biscuits and you laff. In teking out de money to pay fuh de strawberry festival biscuit..  and de empty pack from de previous biscuit come out and you hide it back in shame because you aint want de lady fuh tink dat dis man crazy.. you tink dat is enuff.. but de cravin...

Guy you know and who is cheerful tells you that he came home on Saturday night and swallowed sleeping pills and antihistamines. He not sure why. Another guy tells you he left the house after a few days. You think it is the moon. Hot sun is out and it is nice to walk down the road. But there is something like a blanket or cloud there. Mind is focussed on walking and also doing errands. Walk into supermarket and pick up the snickers bar. But there is one cashier and a line of people with full trolleys and you put it back. And laugh. Your least favourite food is on the menu so you remember gratitude for food. But the food you don't taste because that is how the cloud works, sometimes it numbs senses and then the mind has to work so you can feel and that is how you know the cloud is lifted. Man on Lamaha Street sits on the curb staring at the nasty trench. One foot with a shoe on, one off. You know how he feels. Staring there.. feeling sun and probably don't want anybod...

One of those weeks managing mental health and then a succumbing to a craving for carcass and carbohydrates and sugar. So I go and sit down in the fry carcass place and mind my business. I had seen the bags in the seat opposite. Few people there. I face the wall. Nice lady, sixtyish, portuguese mixed. Cap, tee shirt/blouse, skirt like so many women come up with a bag. Nice smile.. I asked her if I should move. She says no.. no stay here. She has umbrella, about three of four big zipped carrier bags of stuff and a black plastic bag with a bottle in it. I seh mussee medicine. Lady smiling nicely. She go to the counter and come back with a straw. I see the tip of the bottle and the red cork.. the Mackeson Stout cork. She smiling and looking at me and looking around and drinking from the straw. Bottle in the bag all the time. I choke lil bit pun me carcass. I remember when de woman minustuh did seh how I musn't get involved in woman drinking and she did tink was arite...

"I was four years old and 36 years later, it still hurts, I still remember" - rape survivor at Promenade Gardens I was nervous about going to the walk. I could not sleep the night before and woke up early. And read this article here which talked about feminist dissent . I accept that there are many paths to God, but it is difficult, understanding that many women choose different paths to their own liberation , some of which might liberate them but still oppress others. I tend to stay away from IWD events.. to avoid these controversies of celebration vs protest, and not to offend any hosts if I have to get up to walk out on the anti-women women and men who might be given prominence. The walk was about rape. I know I am walking because the women who organised the walk are committed to breaking the silence around rape. The walk was also about healing.. something which we don't talk much about in Guyana. The silence about rape is not only about shaming the ...