Thoughts of a minibus traveller

by Vidyaratha Kissoon “Good afternoon sir” one of the students said as they walked out from from the field to the school. There are two goals set up on the field. Some of the children have been kicking around a ball. Some of them had been looking at me looking at the goal posts. The goal posts are firm in the ground. There is a net on one of them. I wanted to swing on the crossbar like how six year old Gleansean Skeete must have done before the goalpost fell and killed him while he was in care of the school teachers. The goal post feels firm in the ground. Goals are usually good things, signs of achievement. Goal posts mark space out as goals. In 2017 Guyana, the broken goal post on the ground in Plaisance marks the site of the death of a six year old child. The broken goal post, in Child Protection Week, soon after the murder of Leonoard Archibald , marks the failure of not having the deep systemic committent to child protection. Oil and gas can

Dear sea.. It has been a long time. I don't come out near you any more because the body has changed and moving near you could create pain rather than relieve pain,  and they have made the barrier higher between you and me. They say you are the biggest threat to me because you could flow over the barrier and drown us here on the swamp land.  They also say that drilling deep into your bed and sucking out the oil and gas will bring great benefits to those who might be drowned by you.  I am more afraid of those who believe in the benefits and who will fight over the pittances , than I am afraid of being drowned and washed away by you. In any case, if possible after I am dead, my ashes should be consumed by you. I miss talking to myself when walking, running near to you and breathing in the spray when gasping. It used to be good to talk to myself and try to make promises which seemed possible because the serotonin would flow with you . I know that one of the things I h

by Vidyaratha Kissoon “The Heritage celebrations are watered down” Andrew Campbell told me. Andrew Campbell is a young Guyanese man who is actively interested in Indigenous and other cultures. Andrew was one of the presenters at a recent lecture event The Jaguar in the Patamona Culture. His presentation was about his recent studies around Paramakatoi in Region 8. This event was one of a series of events for Indigenous Heritage Month. September in Guyana is Indigenous ( Peoples’ ) Heritage Month. It used to be called Amerindian Heritage Month. This year the Ministry of Indigenous Peoples’ Affairs had invited the public to submit ideas for the month. The Government sponsors most of the events, including the beauty pageant. State sponsored sexism to honour the Indigenous peoples as part of culture. The Guyanese nation is made up people who have come from different places and who have taken different journeys in their liberation. The presenters at the lecture ta

by Vidyaratha Kissoon To buy or not to buy It is a hot afternoon in St Augustine, Trinidad. I had just stood in line to buy doubles from a stand which I told had been closed for public health reasons. The Caribbean was represented in the line to the doubles stand – black, coolie, creole, mix, whatever. There was something unifying in lining up for food at the place which might have been unclean. After the doubles, I went looking for a shop to buy a big bottle of water. The man at the hotel told me to walk until I see a corner, turn right and see some shops. The place is hot. It is a different heat from the one in Guyana. I turn a corner and see a boarded up shop. A variety store. They are probably having a siesta. The only shop which is open is a grocery. There is a Chinese name on it. I feel a twinge – fear of the invasion, fake Caribbean nationalism – and keep looking for any other shop which might be Chinese Trinidadian, black Trinidadian

Night Cap in Guyana makes a nice stuffed baked plantain. It is similar to the Latin American dish of baked plantain and cheese. Baking in the oven takes time, patience. It really makes no sense to hot up the oven for two pieces of plantain. So I did mine in the microwave. There is no nice brown part. But well in 10 minutes you get a nice plantain taste. Apparently, you have to keep checking. Here is a video of the steps. I moistened the paper towel. The plantain should not take long. The skin will darken and will start peeling off. The plantain will get soft and could get mushy if you leave too long.   I put the cheese mixed with green stuff inside. If I had a grill, I would have used it at this point. But I don't have a grill. De ting wuk good.  I know people say cancer radiation and dem ting.

"You sure this is what you want...?" the woman asked me hastily. I wasn't sure what I wanted. There was narrow elastic and wide elastic. "How much do you want? Is $46 a metre..." I say one metre.. still not sure what I would do. The shorts was in good condition. Material strong, stitching strong. The elastic for some reason had gone. I could convert it into some floor cloth or something. But the material is still strong and the stitching strong. I can't let go of it. I have no sewing machine. It is not something to carry to a tailor. There are more important things in life to sort out and fix. I have not sorted out or been able to fix or save any of the important things. Maybe I can save this old shorts. I go online to see how to sew on elastic by hand. Not much there. I get that I have to stretch the elastic around my waist and see. There is a bit less than the one metre. I wonder if I should stretch it more and fool myself th

by Vidyaratha Kissoon “I kept talking, but like no one was listening to me, no one believed me.. I myself didn’t believe my own situation” the woman said. She is an articulate advocate, warm and loving friend to many people. The man who married her turned out to be abusive. She managed to leave. “Fortunately, some friends stood by me.. others who I thought would know better, did not..” Take a minute.. change a life.. World Suicide Prevention Day is 10 September and the theme for 2017 is “ Take a minute, change a life. “. The intention of the theme is to remind people of “our responsibility to look out for those who may be struggling, check in with them, and encourage them to tell their story in their own way and at their own pace. Offering a gentle word of support and listening in a non-judgemental way can make all the difference. “ Listening is a skill, and not instinctive for many people. The promoters of the theme say that the survivors of

(The Ministry of Social Protection, Guyana has requested comments from the public on the Draft National Plan of Action for Implementation of Sexual Offences and Domestic Violence Acts 2017- 2021. The deadline is 1 October, 2017 . Comments can be sent via email to msodvpu (@) gmail dot com I have uploaded the documents to an online folder . ) I submitted this feedback on the plan.   The Ministry of Social Protection has invited comments from the public about the National Plan of Action for Implementation of Sexual Offences and Domestic Violence Acts 2017- 2021. I have seen the following documents :- Draft National Plan of Action for Implementation of Sexual Offences and Domestic Violence Acts 2017- 2021 Synopsis of the National Plan Monitoring & Evaluation of National Plan of Action for implementation of The Sexual Offences Act 2010 And The Domestic Violence Act 1996 Supporting documents for TORs for National Plan of Action on Sexual Offences and Domestic Violence 2016 –

The floor is warm from the sun. I am kneeling on it. The heat is coming through the window. Spirit is broken. The thing I thought I could save was not saved. Feeling powerless more than angry.Tired, exhausted.  I should not have listened to the conversation. But I know.. and knowing , waiting for the explosion, the anxiety and anticipation keep the body tense. Acceptance. Apparently acceptance is good. Not fighting things. Not wishing for different. Mind starts whirling on the other things.  I make an attempt to bend forward but the back is really stiff. ".. I chose not to have to deal with your anger  .  I love you.." the words are in my head. I try to delete them. I thought I was doing the right thing, to keep the space , keep things neutral. I knew that the shunning would have resumed when common sense intervened. But still.. I know the love is the same love meted is the  Christian love for enemies and sinners.  I realise that the what I thought was a brief emotio

by Vidyaratha Kissoon “You see de fence? I only hear about dis fence, is what madness is dis?” The man on the phone had turned into Shiv Chanderpal Drive on his way to work. He had worked hard for the change in 2015. The fence outside the Ministry of the Presidency is not really a fence. It is a wall. The wall is painted green with bits of something which might be AFC yellow which look a bit greenish anyway. There is a gate in one part of the wall. It is reminiscent of the gate at the Camp Street jail. “ But is who Granger friken suh?” People have always picketed the Office of the President, especially during the last administration. In July 2002, some protesters had ‘stormed’ the Office of the President. Some of them went down Regent Street afterwards and burned a store or two. The then President was not in the compound. There were other pickets after that – different groups of people. Different issues, some of which were never resolved. Some picke