Latest update March 28th, 2024 12:59 AM
Jul 07, 2010 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon
I do not visit the Kingston seawall often anymore. Since I feel my life may be in danger because of my politics, I don’t feel safe any longer at a place that was truly in my heart and soul. But I do pass by the Pegasus Hotel on my way home when I am on High Street. At that spot, the corporate head office of GBTI juts out from the skyline. It is a handsome edifice, attractive, modern and imposing.
As my eyes gazed upon its opulence, I predicted the chauvinism that will be on display during the ceremony on opening day. It is so easy to anticipate dictators because their lines are recurring. Lacking accomplishments and drowning in a sea of illusions where legacies are as long-lasting as the flashes of the stars on the moonlight waves, dictators say the same thing over and over again reminding me of the haunting beautiful song of the Italian saxophonist, Fausto Papetti that my sisters were crazy about each time they heard Ron Robinson play it on his morning radio progammes many, many moons ago. Its title was “Just That Same Old Line.”
When the GBTI puts on its magnificent ceremony to mark the inauguration of its majestic milestone, any schoolboy can guess what the dictators will say. Shouldn’t Fausto Papetti be heard in the background? The refrain will be boring but the audience will have to listen, reminding one of the beginning of the 20th century when modern civilization was conquered by the twin ideology of fascism/communism. The bank will be hailed as a phenomenal achievement of Guyana – a moving moment, a crowning glory in the quest to make Guyana an ultra-modern nation.
The diplomatic vase that sits upon the decorated table will be tossed aside and the creatures of doom will be invoked – the private media will become the Anti-Christ. It will be the story of the old line – development is taking place, Guyana is making gigantic strides but scriptwriters of hate in the private media paint a canvas of a Kafkaesque Guyana drowning in the miasma of failure. Then Freud will take over. In their minds, the dictators know that Guyana sits on pyre of medieval stagnation and through some weird psychic contortion what they accuse the media of painting is what actually exists in the land of the Ancient Mariner.
As the exasperating refrain of progress is repeated ad nauseam, the truth of the GBTI’s resplendent head office will skip across the street and sail away in the Atlantic. The land was bought by GBTI. The bank built its structure. The private sector did what it had to do. The illusions of the little fascists will not deter them from parading their fictions on the fearful audience who will no doubt rise from their seats and clap the dictators out of an all-encompassing fear. If the fearful ones allow the evening breeze to luxuriate their faces by just walking a few yards from the bank to the famous bandstand that sits on the seawall, they will see the failure of their country.
It was the son of one of the shapers of modern Guyana, Joey Jagan, who, on the occasion to mourn the death of his mother, Janet Jagan at Freedom House, told the PPP listeners including President Jagdeo that his mother loved the seawall but today it is a filthy, nasty, miasmic place. Jagan’s description wasn’t elegant so I won’t repeat it. The GBTI corporate head office overlooks the seawall where as night falls, a Naipaulian area of darkness emerges. Modern Guyana doesn’t have street lights, at least not where the GBTI building is.
This essay is being penned long before the glitter and gloss of the GBTI ceremony begins. In fact, I have no idea when the little dictators will be called upon to cut the ribbon. But the reason for writing this article has to do with the front page photograph of this newspaper that showed the guard hut at Lamaha Springs where the police sentry was gunned down a few days ago.
If you are reading this, take a look at that hut of death. If you do go to the opening of the GBTI head office, as the dictators sing their songs of progress in Guyana, remember that hut of death. How can any country in the year 2010 put a policeman in a hut like that? It is unfit for human beings. I honestly think that the dog kennels of the wealthy in Guyana are more decent. Maybe I should republish this essay when the bank officially opens.
THIS IDIOT TELLING GUYANA WE HAVE NO SAY IN THE 50% PROFIT SHARING AGREEMENT WE HAVE WITH EXXON.
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