Is my phone wire-tapped? I know it is

Nov 18, 2012 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon

Immediately after the funeral service for Mr. Clarence Hughes was finished, after a small chat with Andaiye outside the church, I made a frenzied rush to Kitty to do an urgent favour for my nephew, because I had to return to the church where Cindy Sookdeo of the Region Five office of the Alliance for Change was waiting for us to go to the Georgetown Hospital. That had to be a rush job, too, because I was headed to Region Six for Mr. Hughes’s burial.
While driving in Kitty, at the corner of Stanley Place and Shell Road, two men and a woman yelled out to me that I must go to the mechanic quickly because my car is sounding terrible. I pulled over to get out and my silly nephew told the three persons that the AC is on and that is what is making the sound. And a fool like me believed him.
My nephew knows absolutely nothing about cars. I confess that after a restaurant owner substituted synthetic essence (not even fruit concentrate but synthetic essence) for fresh fruits in his ice cream and fooled me that it was real fruits, I am losing my IQ. Why did I listen to my nephew?
As we reached Thomas Street, Kitty, I heard this ugly sound coming from the car and there were all the red icons flashing their warning sign. I knew Berbice was over for me and Cindy Sookdeo would have to make it on her own. I had about five minutes to make it to my mechanic, “Smally” in Bel Air.
The examination revealed that I needed a crankshaft pulley. “Smally” advised that it is better to have it repaired than buy a new one. So he sent me to this workshop which, to avoid any future victimization of the owner, I would not identify.
I walked into the guy’s workshop and he greeted me warmly, said he never met me but always remembered one thing about me. “What would that be?” I enquired. He said he could not believe a government could stoop so low as to clean the trench in front of the homes of citizens and leave my part of the trench uncut.
He told me that was one of the things about the PPP Government that caused him to dislike them. As we chatted, the subject revolved around the government’s dislike for me and his curiosity as to how I cope with it.
Most people in this life, either through correspondence or in person, want to know how I deal with the poisonous attitudes of the PPP Government towards me.
My answer is a standard one. I don’t care what they think; I will do what I have to do for my country. They were in full force at the funeral service. Prime Minister Sam Hinds said hello. I had to pass Neil Kumar who was standing at the door of one of the entrances to the church, so I used another door. I cannot stand that man after what he said to Moses Nagamootoo in Parliament last month.
The funeral attendance for Clarence Hughes, the father of Nigel, was huge. As expected, I would be asked political questions by those I hadn’t seen for a long time. All of this was on Thursday when both the KN and SN carried stories of the government’s admission that phones are being tapped in Guyana. So I was asked by a well-known lawyer if I think my phone is tapped.
I turned to him and intoned, “What do you think?” His smile was huge. He said, “Of course, and Mark Benschop’s too.” Only a fool would be so asinine to think that the phones of people like me, Mark Benschop, Lincoln Lewis, Sharma Solomon and others are not tapped.
If a cabal could be so mentally diseased to order the trench in front of my home to remain un-cleaned, to drench me with a miasmic substance; make an attempt on my life on the stroke of midnight last August, terminate my contract at UG, incarcerate me for three days on a mere traffic offence, ask a judge to commit me to prison for contempt of court, sue me for libel, and make the 14-year-old Go-Invest job of my wife untenable, then only a moron would believe that such an obsession would not lead to phone tapping.
I know my phone is tapped that is why my so-called “subversive” buddies and I have nuff laughs when we speak on the phone. I want them to know that I know their “dutty” business. I know about gay parties around a swimming pool involving ‘big” ones. I know about the homosexual lover of a powerful, little god. I know whose wife runs a company under a relative’s name and gets governmental contracts. Yes, I speak about a lot of sensitive things on my phone. I want them to hear.

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Is my phone wire-tapped? I know it is

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