It’s at times like these that the frailty of humanity becomes more pronounced, registers poignantly. The monuments of man’s advance, the towers of his achievements come crashing down. A devastating earthquake in Venezuela, two in fact. Right next door. Just beyond the fence. A picket mark that partitions Venezuelans from Guyanese. Despite the sharp differences, the hard disagreements, there must still be something inside to empathize with our fellow human beings in Venezuela. I so do. But for the mystery of geology, there could Guyana be. I humbly exhort Pres Ali to share a word of sympathy on behalf of the Guyanese people to his counterpart, President Rodrigues, in this time of her people’s loss and suffering. May PPP General Secretary, Dr. Jagdeo, do the same for the ruling party. I think that both men can find it in themselves to offer heartfelt words, and any hand that Guyana can extend.
Whether thousands are dead, or that harrowing four-digit mark is not breached, the toll of destruction ranges far and deep. Lives lost. Homes gone. Family disappeared. Livelihood snatched. In an instant. Leads me to wonder often what all the reciprocal arguing and assaulting are all about. What’s the point of it all? An earthquake, a hurricane, a volcano, or a tsunami can change everything in a hurry. Shocking devastation that tosses humankind off their feet, swat away men and mice. Set back hopes of progress, dreams of rising, by years, maybe even decades.
In that such earthquakes occur right in Guyana’s yard almost; they bring home all for which the people of this country should be thankful. From leaders to the lowest of the little ones. But for circumstances, the luck of the draw, the position of the plates, there Guyana could be. I settle for something simpler: grace. May not be profound for some. It is for me. We are busy talking about the future. But tomorrow is promised to no one. Thousands, from the first reports, biting the dust. Literally. Fatally. May those numbers be scaled back considerably. When the dust clears, the shocks fade. We are excited to be planning for the next century (and we should). But let there be recognition of in whose hands, delivery and destiny are controlled.
Venezuelans have been trapped and wounded, sent scattering and left despairing. When some small rays of first light came into their darkened world, earthquakes sent them tumbling back to the bottom. May they rise from the ashes. How does a man stay angry at those who don’t hold him in the best light, have been hurtful, at a time like this? I don’t. So, I write and share. So, I urge my fellow Guyanese to put their fears and anxieties behind them. Just be a good neighbor. Those who are around, those who can find it in themselves to be caring, in times of distress. There is pain across the border. So, let us dig deep and forget our own pain. From past wrongs. From heavy dreads. From the hard load of present circumstances and think of how a Venezuelan can be helped.
Yes, I know. Those pieces of steel found and seized. Almost two dozen such pieces. So many. So deadly. So, anxiety-intensifying. It takes an exceptional kind of people to shrug those off, the potential threats that they represent away. But try we must. For the peaceful, helpful, Venezuelans in the midst. For those they may have left behind, and who may have been in harm’s way. For those pummeled by grief and battered with heartbreak in a neighboring country that’s only a stone throw away. For stricken neighbors, with whom there will have to be conversing at some time or the other. To find a way out of the wreckages. One is manmade. The other is a mystery. Likely of otherworldly origins.
Venezuelans will rise. Guyanese must help them to rise. For in doing so, we rise, too. The only winners when horrors take hold are those who will add to their rebuilding bills. Get better Venezuela! Get off the ground, rebound.
