There is some god hanging around somewhere. He watches out for Guyanese. From years of practice, Guyanese appealed to God to save the king. He did. God saved King Charles III from PPP Govt concealments. GPL was the archangel. A two-hour stint of blackouts. The generators near to me all clicked into gear. A government ministry. A house of gambling. A hospital complex with generators all over, about three to four from what I could detect. I was on the phone to someone all the way over in South Ruimveldt, and the GPL blackout had already rolled into that area.
I checked the sky. Not a trace of lightning. But something struck the GPL, and even the kshatriyas could not stop the lights from going out. Or cover over the generators thundering just after breakfast, closing in on mid-morning on day two of the royal visit. Steer the king towards all that is desired he sees. Hide from him the Guyana that the PPP Govt doesn’t wish for him to see. Or hear. Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men do come to naught.
To His Royal Highness, I say: GPL blackouts are the epitome of the real Guyana. Everything grinds to a halt. Those who used to see are suddenly reduced to groping in the darkness. Progress and development go on strike. The PPP Govt of Ali and Jagdeo can blindfold King Charles III. But they cannot brainwash a prince who served for 60 years or more as an understudy to one of the best. His mum. He might have been a beach bum for a long time. But he is not dumb. Charles III had to know that he was being given the grand tour. Studiously chaperoned away from the derelicts, the addicts, and the other street sick. Kept far from the distressed areas, and what used to be called ghettoes. According to the PPP travel brochures, those are things of the past in Oil Guyana and One Guyana. Apparently, somebody forgot to get the GPL in the latter circle.
If a king could be visited with this in a two-day stay, what does that say of the lot of the working class who have to endure Guyana all their days? In a telling irony, the GPL blackout was a ray of light. A crack in the picture perfect, foolproof program that the PPP put together. Nothing stays hidden forever. Darkness has a way of forcing its way into the consciousness. And darkness does seek out its intellectual authors, the forces that operate in the shadows of Guyana’s world of darkness. Those responsible for it. The poor rounded up, pushed into a corner. The streets scrubbed. The money that does not reach the masses. The millions and billions that are pumped into the frontend of the GPL, only for blackouts to come out of the backend.
PPP Govt luminaries and public relations canaries were keeping their fingers crossed, counting down the hours towards the departure of the King of England. Then, the fates stepped in; indeed, the arc of the universe does swing slowly, but it swings toward justice. In that timely (or most untimely of) blackouts, I discern an instance of poetic justice at work. Come to think of it, that was electric justice. After all of Ali’s grand preparations, after all the pomp and pageantry associated with a coronation-like atmosphere, the lights went out all over Georgetown. It wasn’t 1941. It wasn’t Winston Churchill’s oratory hour. It wasn’t London taking a hammering from Hitler’s blitzkrieg. It wasn’t London Bridge falling down. It was the kimono parting for a couple of hours in Ali Guyana. All the choreography coming apart. Thanks to the GPL stepping up to the wicket and announcing its presence with a six. It was more than poetic justice. It was electric justice.
