Conversations with a wonderful Guyanese

Jul 16, 2010 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon

This week I ran into a wonderful Guyanese citizen in his late seventies I happened to know since 1972. This is one of those persons who have stayed away from political expressions of all kinds. This is a person who has not strayed into the path of politics at all.
He is a decent nationalist who didn’t like the Burnham Government, and because of his experience living so long in this land, does not like the PPP Government either. He thinks they are made from the same cloth. One day, when Guyana comes good and if he is still with us, I will name him perhaps in a book I may write.
He looked at me with a concerned smile and gently said to me; “Why do you do it?” I know what he was talking about but I feigned ignorance. I asked; “Do what?” He replied; “You know what I am talking about.” I smiled broadly and intoned; “It’s a long story.” He was laughing when he said, “You got into all sorts of problems with Burnham, dangerous times those were, now here you are more than thirty years after, and you are getting into dangerous waters again.”
I opened up to him. I explained that I feel it is in my blood. I don’t think I can change. I have been this way since I was sixteen. At that age, I began reading philosophy. I read Plato’s “The Republic” three times because at the first two attempts I couldn’t understand it.
The human rights thing is in my blood. I simply do not know any other life. But as the conversation went on I did confess that I thought after the PPP victory, Guyana would have recaptured the glory of its past and we would have been on top in the Caribbean.
Other people can speak for themselves but for me, I honestly believed that after the PNC lost the general elections in 1992, all, not many, but all of the political perversities we lived with as a nation from the sixties onwards would be gone. Burnham was undoubtedly a great political thinker and was way ahead of his time. Looking back, he did have some splendid accomplishments but for me, his politics was semi-fascist. It was my sincere belief that after 1992, Guyana would have left the bad days of Burnham behind.
No matter how large were the reservations we had of the PPP while that party was in opposition, I would like to think all Guyanese saw the 1992 election defeat of the PNC as a brand new day that would forever change Guyana. I cannot speak for the countless others who lived through the beauty of 1992, but I know the way I felt deep inside my soul. Gone forever would be rigged elections, party paramountcy, racial discrimination, pervasive poverty, the arrogance of power, domination of the state media, party favouritism, political victimization and the gargantuan stable of political and social injustices that we knew from the seventies onwards.
During all this time, he didn’t say a word as I rattled off my expectations after 1992. Then he interrupted and said, “Well I know what’s coming next.” I asked; “What?” He was all smiles and replied; “You have written that so much about what’s coming next that it is easy to predict your forthcoming line.” Then he spoke it. He actually spoke the very words that were coming next. He went on; “…and the struggle goes on because what we have now is worse than Burnham.” I yelled out; “Exactly.” His countenance changed. Suddenly there was a serious expression on his entire face.”
He stared at me and asked; “But you think the change you dreamed of is coming soon? You think the Guyanese people are interested in fighting this government? Aren’t you tilting at windmills as in the book?” I was laughing because it was intriguing that he should talk of windmills implying that I may be a Don Quixote character. I turned to him and whispered; “I like the Don Quixote character very much because it had a profound influence on me when I was growing up.” He got up to leave, looked at me with obvious sincerity in his eyes and said; “Be careful!” I thought he was interested in knowing why I am still doing what I am doing after more than thirty years when he first met me in the early seventies.
I was truthful in my explanation to him. I cannot stop. It is in my blood. One simply has to follow one’s dream. I will continue to follow mine even in death.

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Conversations with a wonderful Guyanese

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