Faded Forbes Burnham and Oldies in the evening minibus..

 

 Last day of October and is that short time between day and night when it not too bright and not too dark. 

Nice breeze blowing, rubbish stirring up on some parts of the pavement of the Capital city.

Vendors packing up stalls, leaving some things exposed so people passing could still pick up plantain chips and other things. 

Enough light to check on thinness and so as not all plantain chips crunch in my mouth these days, but dark enough so vendors don't realise that I am checking out the plantain chips.

 Empty bus pulls up and driver wearing mask .I jump in front seat, hoping driver going Kitty.

Hear driver say Kitty a bit louder for another passenger
 

Quiet oldies music playing.. oldies which were oldies since I was  a child 40 years ago, I start singing behind the mask.. driver not singing along though. Another bus another time at midday, and I sat at the back seat between a man and a woman who looked away from each other out of the opposite windows while singing the hymn playing at midday. I wish I knew the hymn to join them.

Turn my masked face to the window to catch lil breeze on the parts exposed. 

Driver is older man, straight backed, tall. Might have been soldier or police in the old time days. 

He is driving properly, not cursing anybody, not blowing horn, stopping easily. Plenty traffic.

Inside of bus darkening more than outside. 

I glance around and see on the dash board a badge - picture of Forbes Burnham,  something about 25 years. I try to read what it is.  

No other picture or icon on the dash board. or windscreen

Other buses - behind the steering wheel or on the dash board, sometimes a murti with a flower on it even if the bus playing dutty music. 

Or other icons on windscreen like black women wearing bikinis and so in back ball poses as if the driver don't want to see the woman face but her behind, or pictures of liquor and so on.

Sometimes there are pictures of woman maybe wife and children, or children alone. Sometimes children pictures not far from dancehall picture. 

Sometimes a cross or so hanging somewhere, sometimes underneath the picture of the woman back balling.

Burnham picture though, small there, look like the murti on some buses, quiet, as though for the man alone.  

Remembering another woman who had a Burnham badge on her collar, like she put it on every day. 

Thinking of those people who have Cheddi Jagan on their altars and in their homes, but not the other PPP folks. 

Wondering if they would ever meet and gaff about their icons or oldies music

The badge is faded, probably a decade or so now and weathered down. Place dark.

My mouth singing oldies while my brain want to ask the driver about he and Burnham but not finding courage.

Turn into Kitty where I think is safe in case he get vex and put me out the bus , I could walk home. I hand him the 1000 bill to make change when he could and then I stop singing oldies.

I ask "what you tink dis man would ah think about what going on"

Driver says quietly, probably shocked.. 'he would ah hate it, nuff division and so, this was the best man for this country, people just fighting up'

I get this feeling he not only talking about PPP but also the new PNC and the new PPP. About new PPP and new PNC pushing Stink x Dutty music and not the oldies on the yutes and so.

"what he would ah do wid de oil"

"he would ah lef it, he know it had nuff problem, he know it had oil"

I say 'but he couldn't live forever, he would ah been a 100 now"

Driver say 'yeah, he said another rasta would have come after he'

I say.. 'yeah, jagdeo is de odder rasta'

The man laugh, I hear the laugh. Oldies in the background

We reach Church Road. I say' i give you a 1000'.. he say 'oh you give me nah, and then count out the 9 100 dollar bills in change'  Saying as though he trusted me and not checking.

I take a 100 from the pile and give him and say, tek dis fur the music.

I heard his laugh from behind the mask.