I AM ENTITLED— View from inside out

Jun 26, 2010 Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

I told her the disappointing news. I knew it would not go down well. I had anticipated tears, but I was ill-prepared for the way in which she took the news.
She went on and on about Guyana. She said it was no wonder that things were backward in that place. She cursed the government saying that they were not good for anything. She said that the country was full of corruption and that is why people are being denied their entitlements. She was upset. She cursed from Harry Right to Harry Wrong.
But she had kind words for Cheddi. He was a good man. He cared for the people. If he were around this would not have happened to her. Those in government were not living up to his good name.
She went on and on. I did not know how to change the topic. I wondered whether I had made a mistake by volunteering for the mission.
I could not change that now. The task has been thrust upon me. I had little choice. You cannot tell an old lady no to a simple request.
It all began two days before I left for Guyana. I was relaxing on the stairways leading to my flat, watching the kids skating along the pavement. It was a cool, lazy afternoon but my mind was on my forthcoming vacation back to Guyana.
I had planned everything down to finest detail, even to the hour when I would make a whistle stop at the Red Dragon. I could not wait to get on the plane back home.
I planned to pass the remaining time just as I was doing: lazing around. I looked up towards the end of the street. I saw what looked like a familiar figure, snaking her way towards me. As she got closer, I recognised the old lady and wondered what she was doing on my block.
She stopped in front of my entrance. “ Hi. Aunty!” I greeted her. “What are you doing in these parts?”
“Is you I come to see,” she said.
I was surprised and suspected that some favour was behind the visit. After the usual chit-chat she got to the point. “I hear you going Guyana this week. I want a little favour.”
I did not reply.
This did not however stop the old lady. She continued, “ It is about my pension. I want you to check on it for me.”
“Check on it?” I asked. This was news to me for I distinctly recalled when this very old lady was bad-mouthing Guyana. At the time she had not arrived and had bragged that she would not even bother with applying for pension in Guyana since it was a mere pennies and not even worth the car fare to the Poor Law Board.
Things had obviously changed. She was now very much interested in obtaining a pension book. I asked her why bother with the pension. You are in America now and you receive social assistance, so why bother with the pension from Guyana. “You do not need that money”.
She said that it was no longer a pittance. “The money good. Son!” Is a decent sum you does get and if I bank it when I go back on holiday, I will have enough to repair the house.”
I tried to convince her that she had no need for that money. “Why do you want it?” I asked.
“ I am entitled to that,” she replied.
“How so?” I asked
“I paid my taxes and therefore I am eligible for pension.”
“What taxes?” I asked. “You never worked a day in your life”.
She got agitated. “But my husband worked and he paid taxes. He paid taxes for me. I paid rates and taxes for my property. And in any event I am a Guyanese and I am entitled to that pension.”
I saw that the topic would not go away and so I promised that I would check on things for her. After telling me what a good child I was and how my parents would have been proud of me, she kissed me goodbye and departed.
After she left, I looked at the paper on which I had written the information that I thought would have been necessary to enquire about her pension. I placed it in my traveling bag with the knowledge that I had better not forget to make the necessary enquiries in Guyana.
It took one telephone call to receive the news that the old lady was not entitled to a pension book.

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I AM ENTITLED— View from inside out

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