By GHK Lall- In trying to get a grip on this country, be prepared for the incredible. In working to understand citizens of this great Republic, one had better be made of, well, sponge. To absorb the blows, then bounce back from them. For starters, make an honest attempt at answering this question: how does a government go from ‘the most corrupt in the Caribbean’ to the most inspiring?
Incidentally, that journey from most corrupt to most magnetic took less than a year. This Guyana is now more than a modern oil wonder, it is also a miracle machine. The miracles just keep on coming, would make Jesus look like he was on strike.
A voice was heard that shouted about ‘victimization’ at the hands of the PPP Govt. Swift and sure as an arrow, within eight months, less time than it takes for a full-term newborn to enter this world, victimization gave way to inclusion. What a country, this Guyana is! What a government is this once hated, now beloved PPP is!
Next time I run across Dr. Bharrat Jagdeo I must remember to ask him for a drop of that PPP love potion. Its success rate is simply unbelievable; against all the odds, against all the ugliness in the local environment. Men who once “feared” the PPP, now shout from the rooftops: what a friend we have in Jesus. Apologies, I make a terrible mistake. What a friend we have in Jagdeo. There is no friend like Bharrat. Charisma or nausea? The things that men and women do. For what? It is best to listen to them first.
It’s for the country, stupid. It’s always so that they can do better for the people, dummy. It’s what patriots worth their salt, worthy of the label, do. Funny, but that has a strange, persistent echo. I invite my fellow Guyanese to go back in time and check for themselves. Here’s a starting point, so there’s a head start on the house. December 21, 2018 was the date, and Guyana’s parliament the place.
It shouldn’t be too difficult to recall the monumental shift that led to change in Guyana’s trajectory and history. The no-confidence vote of December 2018 changed everything, and the pieces are still being picked up and counted seven years later. It may never be over.
It was called a ‘conscience’ vote. Some conscience, I would shrug. Guyanese have a saying: like cockroach eeet owt yuh conscience. I have my own: cash mek plentee maan sell de conscience. When the incentives are added, this is what has come to light. Follow the long list of sweet, soothing lines. For the children. For the country. For the conscience. For the future. Oh, and this one almost forgotten: for excellence in leadership.
Men are so craven, so insecure, that they buy endorsements of excellence like an addict would sell himself to buy a smoke or a shot to keep the juices flowing. In the democracy that Guyana has, people are free to walk on their heads, or crawl on their bellies. For all I care. Or dance a jig and do their imitation of the village idiot. They have the right to pick their politics and make their own bed. But, spare the pretenses at piety, the globs of platitudes. Just spare the people. Take the money. Take the land. Take the job. Take the good feeling that comes from being inside the oil tank. But stop taking Guyanese for fools.
Since I have no politics, the next man’s own means nothing. It disturbs, however, to digest the drivel offered as justification for abandoning one post and arranging shelter under another. When public service in Guyana is about self-sacrifice, and not self-enrichment, that would be the biggest miracle. Meanwhile, rank-and-file Guyanese delight to (or despise) the latest masquerades
