A failed system?…Help for those little children…the vulnerable

May 06, 2012 News

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By Leonard Gildarie

As a journalist, years of practice would automatically steel you for the harsh realities.
The sight of mutilated bodies, heart rending tears, fire, and twisted metal in vehicular accidents, becomes routine. You have to treat it as such, or you would have no place in that world.
Being a family man, I have deliberately, lately, stayed away from the coverage of crime.
However, it is inevitable that you would be called out to cover a number of late-night incidents.
The last few weeks have not been easy ones for me. I have a wonderful family that I would dread to have anything to happen to, or worse yet…to me. The world is not an easy place by any means. There are the very real issues like mortgages and expenses to deal with.
I was six when my father – a policeman – was killed while performing duties at a government facility. The killers wanted his gun. They got that and his life. In the wake, they left two little children and a young wife. I can still vividly remember the police funeral.
So it was that last month, I had just reached my home at La Parfaite Harmonie, West Bank Demerara, when I got a call from the office that there was a fire in the area. Persons were jumping through the windows to escape the flames, I was told.
I came out of my home and sure enough, I saw the redness in the sky, a fair distance away.
A family of seven living there was left homeless. Two children, Andrea James, 10, and Jarvin Douglas, 6, died in the fire. Three of them, all under the ages of 10, escaped the blaze by jumping through a window.

The children were being looked after by their aunt, who that night had made an unfortunate decision to leave them alone and attend to some business in the city. A lit candle was later to be blamed.
I saw the anguish on the faces, the disbelief on those of neighbours and persons in the community. The family had lost everything. A six-year-old, tears streaming down his face, told of breaking windows and encouraging the others to jump.
The Lions Club and a number of Good Samaritans assisted the family.
One evening, last week I passed and saw that the family had constructed a makeshift home in the remains of the property. A television was on, a stark reminder that life continues. It pained.
A SHOCKER
Two Thursdays ago also, I was preparing to close off at the office. It was about 19:00 hours. One of the newspaper’s freelance photographers brought some accident photos. That accident was by the Botanical Gardens, on Vlissengen Road. It was a motorcycle accident in which the person had died after reportedly crashing into a truck.
The body was covered and the accident scene was littered with broken parts and blood. I prayed for the victim. About 10 minutes later, I called the wife and she was crying. Our neighbour, Andy, had died in a motorcycle accident. I rushed back to the computer and started it up. Sure enough, I recognized the bike and on close examination, the gloves on the victim’s hands, and I was convinced that it was indeed my neighour and close family friend.
The pain was unbelievable. It was like déjà vu. I thought of his two sons – one is eight and another 12 – and his wife who adored him. A father lost, a husband gone. The concern now is how they would make it through. He was the breadwinner for the family. We had gone fishing a few weeks before. He was light-hearted and happy. He would play hopscotch with his children and was known to spend a lot of time with them.
On Thursday, I was at the funeral. He was cremated. His wife had to be rushed to a hospital after collapsing. The children bravely carried out the last rites. It is not an easy thing to watch. What was going through their minds? Did they comprehend the situation?
The neighbours committed to helping them. I was one in that lot. It would be intolerable for me to go to sleep at nights knowing that I could, in my limited means, lend a helping hand. How would they afford now to attend the school that is at least five miles away at Vreed-en-Hoop? What would the wife do now? It struck my heart.
MURDER
Shortly after that funeral, on Thursday, I received a call that a neighbour of the community where I grew up – Grove, East Bank Demerara – had been murdered. His body was discovered at Enmore. He lived at the new housing scheme, at Golden Grove, East Bank Demerara. He had two kids, a home and family.  Everything was going for him.
He left home Wednesday night, reportedly after dinner with his family, to work his taxi at the Diamond car park.  They never saw him alive again. The family after not seeing him at home that night, made searches and later learnt early Thursday that a body had been discovered with hands and feet bound at Enmore, almost 24 miles away. Their worst fears were confirmed after he was identified. Yes, it was indeed Rajesh Puran – father, husband, brother, and dear friend.
Growing up, I always saw Rajesh working. He left working on America Street where he changed money for a number of years to operate a taxi. We would give him work. He said it was hard there and he wanted to be more stable. He bought a Toyota Ceres. Lately, he reportedly bought a Toyota Raum. At the time of writing, it is believed that his killers may have wanted his car and took his life for it. The car is still to be recovered.
Again, this particular case struck home straight to the heart. His daughter, I am told, was set to write exams. He was close to both kids.
Again, I wondered… what would happen to these two kids?
Across Guyana, like the rest of the world, there are untold and countless tales like these. In Guyana, there are a number of government programmes – the Women of Worth, which allows single mothers to tap into a fund and the public assistance monies, readily comes to mind. One of the problems that I constantly hear from affected families is that they are not aware of the assistance being offered by government.
I am also not sure whether Guyana cannot do much better than the amounts we are allocating to assist families in need. I would love to see the debates start in earnest on critical issues like these and the pensions.
Another problem that Guyanese face, and I would be to blame also, is the recognition that there may be a need for the country to seriously think about offering mandatory counseling in situations like these. We tend to overlook the importance. Here, the church, the government and even schools and organizations like Lions and Rotary may be able to play a part. Let us not wait until help is asked for. Let us go to the victims.
Guyana has got to go back to the drawing board and rethink some of its social assistance programmes, and maybe I am ignorant of them at this time. We cannot in a country of such a small population allow our future, our children, to fall by the wayside… It is an unimaginable situation.
We are known as a very hospitable people to our guests. Charity begins at home. Let us extend our hearts to those vulnerable, those little children, lest we be accused of having a system that has failed its people.

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