Thoughts of a minibus traveller

Free medical attention Article 24 of the dysfunctional constitution of Guyana states that Every citizen has the right to free medical attention and also to social care in the case of old age and disability. I learned that the public health system in Guyana, with all of its problems, provides free medical attention  - not only to citizens of Guyana - but to whoever asks - and no queries about citizenship. Richer countries in the world do not so readily provide free medical attention to their citizens, or to anyone who walks in. The right though, is not a gift or patronage or something for which citizens should be grateful to the political parties in power.  The political parties, the State has a DUTY to provide the medical attention, not only free, but of good quality. Accountability I am at the health centre. I like the vibe there, the staff are friendly. Some doctors are working in the open because there are not enough rooms.  I understand the limitations. The older d

I am walking slowly and thinking I need to square my shoulders and look ahead but instead feel like stopping.  I am walking through the market and I have already bought more tangerines than I should and not bought any of the the things that I should have bought. It has been a difficult day more than usual as I take on another thing which I should have said no to and then deal with some of the others which I cannot say no to. I notice the man with the table. Baked goods in plastic bags on the table. Bread, buns, salara. I look away and keep walking away thinking that hell, I will eat the tangerines to get the sweet rush. But I don't walk fast enough and I turn back.. "Is coconut buns' I ask the man.. "Yes" he says "and dat is coconut roll too" I pick up one. It is nice, rock hard. I see in my head.. the crumbled buns, soaking in milk. I remember thinking that I should be doing vegan diet and cutting back on wheat and sugar.. but like other

"Enjoying my old age" The bus is empty , oldish and I stumble into the front seat. Pain all over the body from the stress and poor mental health. There is a KFC bag on the dashboard and a drink. Most of me wants to sit down and dwell in the dark clouds and wait on the bus to move off. I had messed up in the caregiving and the patient had to go to hospital unnecessarily. The moon is about and I am trying to work with the moon. The tiny part of me though.. "So, this KFC fuh whoever sit down in dis seat?" Driver laughs. Straggly gray hair , glasses kind of half way down his nose, cap. "Nah , this is mine. You know when you are elderly and people feel they have to buy something for you. " "Man you lucky!" "I am enjoying my old age.. you see these glasses, I can drive without them... I am 70.." The man has a nice tone of voice, nice smiling tone of voice. "this i use for pain' he shows me the bottle of shilling oil.

"Are you a Jehovah"? the woman asked me, smiling. We were in the food shop. I had come  to escape from some of the duties which I am not coping with, and the claustrophobia of a medical establishment. There were a few tables and chairs for temporary sitting. The woman was eating alone at one. She took each mouthful and then looked around. Elderly woman, bright eyes through peeper specs. Eating slowly. Back straight. I asked her if I could sit. She smiled.  'Yes'.  I sat down. I don't normally eat in front of people these days as I am clumsy with eating. I bend my head and bury my mouth in the napkin and plastic bag so no one could see as I try not to make a mess. I also didn't feel like talking to anyone as I am exhausted mentally. "You were here yesterday" she told me, still smiling.  I chewed and swallowed and removed the napkin. I said.. oh you come here every day then. We started talking. I move into a mode of listening.