Latest update March 29th, 2024 12:59 AM
Jun 09, 2017 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon
I was on the Camp Street seawall beach walking my doggie when my wife rang. Her tone was a little frantic. She said she had to sign for a letter the post girl brought and the envelope had Nigel Hughes as the sender. Obviously, her mind flew automatically to court matters. She was right. I told her not to worry; I knew what it was about.
On May 24, I received a telephone call from Nigel’s secretary informing me that the Jagdeo versus Freddie Kissoon libel trial is for report on May 29, and I should be in attendance. She indicated that a letter to that effect had been sent in the post to me. I went to court on May 29. My wife signed for the letter at our gate on June 3. This is the normal routine of the Guyana Post Office Corporation. There may be exceptions, but the pattern is that people receive their post office correspondence after the date of their specific event. And it goes on non-stop.
What would have happened if it was a very serious matter in which I could have lost a case because I failed to show? If Mr. Hughes’ secretary had not called me about the date, I would not have been in court on May 29, because I received the mail from the post office five days after May 29.
Gordon April of the Alliance For Change asked for a recommendation for employment. I seldom see Gordon since the May 2015 elections. He lives in Parfait Harmony. I posted the testimonial at the Campbellville Post Office. One week after, Gordon rang me out of desperation for the document. I told him I posted it. Why should a letter take more than a week from Campbellville to Parfait Harmony which is less than half an hour drive?
With the birth of the internet and the smart phone, post office functions worldwide have been reduced to more than sixty percent, perhaps more. There isn’t that volume of posted stuff the post offices in all countries have to handle before the age of high technology.
Let’s look specifically at Guyana. How many envelopes does the post office have to deal with on a daily basis in a small country like this? The answer is not many. In addition, GWI has done away with the post office facility. GWI delivers its bills directly to customers. I know GTT has done the same.
It simply boggles the mind why a letter posted from Hadfield Street where Nigel has his law office to me in Turkeyen took five days to reach its destination? Why a letter sent from Campbellville to Parfait Harmony has to take more than a week? The answer lies not within the method of the post office, but the dysfunctional nature of this country. This nation has broken down a long time ago and the collective psychic demise makes for an improbable (I concede not impossible, but I am not optimistic) resuscitation.
This country doesn’t function. The court system, the police force, GPL (I keep getting daily blackouts at Turkeyen), GWI, GRA, UG, Ministry of Public Infrastructure, CH&PA, City Hall, simply offer non-existent services. I have written it several times before and I am writing it again – the bravest humans in the entire world are Guyanese entrepreneurs. If you are a left-wing radical, you may not be enamoured with the Guyanese capitalist class, but that stratum of citizens are brave people.
Imagine investing fifty million or one hundred million or three hundred million in Guyana, where nothing works and the territory is a failed state. That is phenomenal courage. That is patriotism par excellence. How do business people get a water or light connection? How do they get a document from the offices of the High Court registry? How do they get approval from City Hall? Guyana is an insane land where rationality went out the window sixty years ago. Guyana is Chato’s Land. Guyana is Soylent Green.
I live on the Railway Embankment. It was closed to traffic for three months in order to rehabilitate the Liliendaal Bridge. It finally reopened last week. Yesterday morning I didn’t take the Railway Embankment on to my way to the National Park, because I had to gas up at the Rubis station on the Atlantic Highway. Coming back from the park, I took the Railway Embankment only to see a blockade at the junction with Sherriff Street with the sign, “Road Close” (mind you, not “closed” but “close”).
After a three months wait, it opened only to close again. What adjective best describes this wasteland?
THIS IDIOT TELLING GUYANA WE HAVE NO SAY IN THE 50% PROFIT SHARING AGREEMENT WE HAVE WITH EXXON.
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