Latest update March 28th, 2024 12:59 AM
Feb 22, 2015 Features / Columnists, My Column
There is a saying that life is hard, but sweet, and I always say that I have only one life. I cherish what I have and I do take life seriously. That is why I cannot understand how someone can snuff out a life of someone they do not even know. And they do this for a fee which I understand is nothing to shout about.
There was a time when I learnt that there were people in some nearby country who would accept contracts to kill people then escape back to whence they came. There were those who said that the involuntary remigrants—a nice term for deportees—having come here and with no source of income, would also be gobbled up by those who have a vested interest in ridding the society of some people.
But after each death there is the pain. All of us must have lost someone near and dear to us so we know the pain. On Friday, a small community lost a lot of its children to a freak accident. A teacher who was a part of every household in that Mahaicony community left with six children for a Mashramani programme.
There were the parents dressing up their little ones and perhaps smiling with pride as these children left home. Three of these children were from one household. They never returned home. The entire country is now in grief, but none so more than the parents who must now do what I did a few short months ago—bury your offspring.
When the news came in I was chatting with a colleague who later raced to the scene. On his return he went home to his family, but early the next morning he called me to let me know some of the things reporters see and must do, and then go home to live with whatever image is forever embedded in the mind.
This reporter, Michael Jordan, did not reach the scene when people from the community extracted the car with its grisly contents from the trench, but he saw the emotion on the faces of the people around. Later, because of technology, he saw the faces of some of the people who perished.
At the time West Indies was taking on Pakistan in the World Cup, but that paled into insignificance, because what was unfolding was a human tragedy beyond imagination. And to make matters worse, some of the victims were children.
Jordan, like me, had seen a lot of things while performing our duty as a reporter. During what was considered the crime wave, I considered it more than a wave because a wave is passing; we saw bodies in various forms of destruction. We saw bullet-riddled bodies, we saw burnt bodies, we saw butchered bodies and we saw dead children.
I remember the publisher of Kaieteur News, Glenn Lall, heading into Agricola on hearing reports of some killings. He later told me that he went to a place where a man was beheaded. The place was dark, so as he was walking with a policeman he kicked the head and immediately turned the flashlight in the direction of the object. He said that when the policeman who was with him saw what it was he turned and ran.
I remember responding to a report of two children being burnt in a house at Better Hope. When I went there I saw what were the children lying on some bed springs. I will not describe the scene, but I would say that it sickened me. It was the same when I covered another fire in Plaisance in which a grown woman died.
In each case the survivors returned and released some gut-wrenching wails that made the most casual of onlookers cry. Death is not something that we accept, although it is the most inevitable thing in the world. It brings with it a pain that is inexplicable.
Some people never recover from the suffering. I have an aunt who is now schizophrenic, and she developed that condition when her first born died. In fact, she still accuses everyone for the boy’s death, refusing that there are factors in life that do not support living.
Then there was the mother of a girl who died in the Cubana air disaster. I learnt that she too lost her mind. It is a pity that we no longer recognize that event as we should.
These things always stay in my mind, largely because I was privy to the pain and suffering that accompanied these deaths.
There are some other things that I will always remember. One morning I happened to be driving along D’Urban Street, in the vicinity of the Camp Street jail, when I saw a woman on the pavement crying to break her heart. I could not understand why, until someone told me that her son was to be put to death. Certainly the fellow waiting on the gallows had to hear her, but he could say nothing to her.
Then there was the Sacred Heart schoolboy who was brutally killed for his bicycle. We got the news of the killer’s impending execution, so like any reporter, I went in search of the victim’s mother. It had been almost ten years since the killing. The woman’s son would have completed school by then. I took another reporter, Simone Vieira with me to get her reaction to the impending execution.
I had to hold on to the woman and tears settled in my eyes; Simone was weeping openly. I had to do the story, and as I sit here I can remember the difficulty conducting the television interview. And I can still hear the words of the judge who sentenced Ayube Khan. She was in Berbice at the time.
She called to ask if it was over and I answered in the affirmative. “This morning I put my knees on the ground in my chambers and prayed for his soul,” she told me.
Indeed, memories don’t leave like people do.
THIS IDIOT TELLING GUYANA WE HAVE NO SAY IN THE 50% PROFIT SHARING AGREEMENT WE HAVE WITH EXXON.
Mar 28, 2024
Minister Ramson challenge athletes to better last year’s performance By Rawle Toney Kaieteur Sports – Guyana’s 23-member contingent for the CARIFTA Games in Grenada is set to depart the...B.V. Police Station Kaieteur News – The Beterverwagting Police Station, East Coast Demerara (ECD) will be reconstructed... more
By Sir Ronald Sanders Kaieteur News – In the face of escalating global environmental challenges, water scarcity and... more
Freedom of speech is our core value at Kaieteur News. If the letter/e-mail you sent was not published, and you believe that its contents were not libellous, let us know, please contact us by phone or email.
Feel free to send us your comments and/or criticisms.
Contact: 624-6456; 225-8452; 225-8458; 225-8463; 225-8465; 225-8473 or 225-8491.
Or by Email: [email protected] / [email protected]