It is intriguing how the top dogs in the PPP Govt go about the serious business of leading a troubled nation. A nation divided. A nation that boasts of a capital city that turns into an aqueduct when it rains beyond a drizzle. An inviting blue aqueduct such as a swimming pool would be welcomed. But not, I think, an aqueduct of darkened waters well-nourished by mud, the overflow of drains, and whatever else garbage strewn roads contribute to the lakes that spring up after any downpour of length and strength.
It rains and PPP headmen come out and fan out. The headwomen runout in their well-clad in Balenciaga and Este Lauder and Prada ensembles. Remember the title of that show about Prada, and let it stick. It rains and there’s a snapshot. A portrait for Facebook and Guyana’s history books. Take a close look and see for self: who cares, who’s there, and who shares in sun and rain. Leaders of a special kind? Or actors who know their lines and stay within the lines they must walk. So as not to spoil the fresh, inspiring images of true leadership on exhibition.
What was done before the rains came? Why do leaders come out and umbrellas go up only when an environmental condition blows up into a crisis? Like a deluge of rainwaters in Demerara that leads to floodwaters swirling to the knees and creating broad seas everywhere that the eye can see. By gum, this is the capital city of a rich, the richest (by some accounts), oil producing nation, six years and counting. I recall one leader before. It should emphasize how much playing acting and role playing have become enmeshed in real-life situations, in leadership practices. It should expose what calls for answers and actions and not Bollywood or Broadway extravaganzas. A few years ago, there was the figure of the leader in the pre-sunup hours at the Meadow Bank wharf. He was all hatted and cloaked (just like around the recent floodwaters). He was well-umbrellaed (just like the past few days), while a hovering entourage of lackeys and hangers-on were around to complete the feed for government channels to expand their propaganda assaults. Even prawns were volunteered, painted over, and arrayed in inviting bundles to present a perfect picture. The lengths that leaders in this country go to sell unreal, unconvincing propaganda.
Propaganda that sells sheen and gloss. But not the grime of dismal reality. Propaganda that sells the swept and polished surface. But not the great, big, ugly, mucky, stinky underbelly of GT and other neglected communities across Guyana that are a disgrace to Guyanese. Six years of increasing daily oil production. Six years of major portions of the oil money withdrawn. Still, six years later, Guyanese must use a capital city where they have to remove their shoes, roll-up their pants, and brave the potholes, the rodents, and the traffic whenever it rains more than a passing shower. Big government blame li’l government. City government point a finger right back at Central government. Citizens stuck in between lift a foot, raise a finger, drop their clothes and moon them both.
In this scene repeated with reasonable frequency, leaders and ministers run out, run around, and roundup the cameramen as though they are making a Cowboy movie. They are. Most likely a la Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles. It might be flood or funeral, dam breakaway or political getaway, and there is a guarantee: a leader, a minister, with a sad face, sadder words, and the saddest spirits ever captured on video. This is the bull that is sold to Guyanese by leaders and ministers. This is the Award-winning performances that from leaders to losers (sorry for the duplication) present to citizens, and are allowed to keep repeating the same. Political acting jobs is the biggest growth sector in Guyana, and offer the richest career opportunities. When anyone sees a real public servant getting the vital jobs done, please share. Broadway and Bollywood in action.
