This sad, tragic, unmodern, unphilosophical, horrible, ugly and dangerous country

Mar 13, 2010 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon

I know the name Mark Benschop will come up when people stop me to discuss politics. I have been in the news several times with Benschop picketing for causes that are justified. In one instance we made the front page photograph of this newspaper. It is natural then for people to ask me about Benschop when Benschop gets into controversy. Last week, I had to face several inquiries about this gentleman in relation to his attacks on Eusi Kwayana. For the record, I think Mr. Benschop has a crucial role to play in a society that is intellectually and politically dead. In that sense, those who believe Guyana needs people to highlight its horrible human rights record should see Benschop in a positive light.
I do not share Mr. Benschop’s analysis of Mr. Kwayana’s political career. I do not accept his explanation of Mr. Kwayana’s role in the sad state of affairs that enveloped Buxton from 2002. I regard Eusi Kwayana as a Caribbean icon. But I appreciate the boldness of Benschop in confronting Kwayana. In so doing, Mr. Benschop is letting other citizens know that despite our elevated status in life, others should put us under the microscope.
Mr. Kwayana is not without his faults. In my long political career, I have had reasons to criticize him in the press. Some of Mr. Kwayana’s characteristics are extremely irritating. Not because he is a Guyanese hero his faults should not be outlined publicly. Unfortunately, I think Benschop picked on Kwayana for the wrong reasons.
A senior journalist said to me last Sunday, “Freddie tell Benschop he got to form an alliance with the PNC if he wants to be Mayor.” Mr. Benschop’s politics at the moment seems to be developing in a way I can appreciate because I was there before Benschop, long before Benschop. It is called THE INDEPENDENT MIND.
The independent mind is a dangerous prospect in this country. It has tragic consequences. I would advise Mark Benschop that he must prepare himself for these tragedies that would befall him. And trust me; in poor Guyana, where opportunities are vastly limited, tragic occurrences will visit the independent mind. I often sit with my daughter and talk to her about the consequences of having an independent mind in this country. I want her to be prepared for the fallout that will come her way if she chooses to speak her mind without wanting to please people who are powerful or rich but are in the wrong.
Quite honestly, I do not know over the decades how I was able to survive mentally and physically in this country as a political activist, an employee and a commentator given my chemistry not to be a puppet to any group, association, institution and political party. No one came and comes to my rescue because I was not and am not their stooge. And the list is very, very long.
I am honestly scared about my daughter’s future. I will not dictate what path in life she should follow, but I hope it does not involve a similar walk like mine. This is not a country for people with an open mind, a willingness to call a spade a spade and to stand tall in what you believe. You walk voluntarily into your own prison when you choose the independent way of life in this country.
The title of this essay should have been, “The Long and Winding Road,” taken from one of my favourite Beatles songs. It has been a long road to survival as an independent voice in Guyana. Mr. Benschop, if he chooses that road, will find the travel very onerous. I was hounded out of the Stabroek News, particularly by Mr. Miles Fitzpatrick, one of the few persons in life I will honestly say I do not care for. Shortly after this, my contract with UG was terminated. My dismissal from UG came at a time when my daughter was just five years old. Had I not won my case it would have been hard to provide for her. These are the tragedies I referred to above.
No one wanted me at UG because I didn’t belong to the PNC faction, the pro-government grouping, the Black constituency, the Indian side. I was not a welcomed guest in any of those houses. I chose not to want to be in any one of those homes because all had their narrow, unphilosophical agendas that I did not want to be part of.
At the Stabroek News, I refused to recognize myself as a dark-skinned nobody. I respected my qualifications therefore I refused to be a dark-skinned nobody. I also did not know my place at Stabroek News in knowing that you don’t argue with those who are the cream of society. Well, I only knew one type of cream; the one that forms on top of cow’s milk.

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