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Crazy things happened on the way to Edison Jefford’s wedding

Aug 13, 2013 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon

 

The ruling PPP recently held its Congress in Port Mourant. From reading the transactions in the press and from what others told me, the leaders of the PPP did what the PPP has been doing for over sixty years now – extol its working class virtues and achievements for the labouring masses. But this has been a sixty-year-old charade. Where are the advantages the ordinary wage earner possesses under the twenty-one year-old reign of the PPP since 1992?
Big businesses, huge business places, rich business entities dominate the entire landscape of Guyana. These are the people that own and enjoy Guyana. This explains why Guyanese carpenters run to an island of 166 square miles and make do with living in shacks fit for animals. It is this domination by big business that caused me to miss the church service of my friend and Kaieteur News colleague Edison Jefford’s wedding last Saturday afternoon in Linden. I am still angry at why that happened.
On Mandela Avenue just outside the operation site of two of Guyana’s largest companies, BK International and John Fernandes Limited are some unfriendly, sadistic craters. Do not accept what this column says about these holes at this particular spot on Mandela Avenue. Please check it out to ascertain if I am exaggerating. The most deteriorated section of Mandela Avenue is just outside BK International and John Fernandes Limited.
To anyone with commonsense the explanation is simple. These two companies use mind-boggling vehicular equipment that will break up the road. John Fernandes Limited is a container company, so humongous containers have to traverse the road every minute. BK International needs no comment. The average Guyanese knows the type of trucks, heavy duty machines and construction vehicles that the company operates.
On our way to Linden, the car, driven by Leonard Craig (of the protest group, People’s Parliament) ran into one of these craters. It was difficult to detect because it was covered with water. The crater crushed the rim of one of the wheels so the car could no longer move. We finally got to a machine shop that could have repaired the rim, but it was Saturday afternoon, and they were about to close off. They did have second-hand rims on sale and were kind enough to let us select any one we wanted so we could get to Linden. None of the dozens of rims could fit on Craig’s vehicle.
We touched five places looking for rims but couldn’t find a match. Then at the sixth shop the owner found one and agreed to loan us. But more trouble was in store. It was time now to get a tire to fit the rim. Five tire shops didn’t have a fit. Eventually one owner came to our rescue.
Let me close this part of the article by saying every one of those places we visited, the owners were extremely pleasant and went out of their way to help.
We reached Retrieve, Linden late, but I insisted that we still proceed to Calvary Temple Church, because we might get a glimpse of the closing part of the ceremony. I was right. Things were still going on in the church.
We took our seats. Then a creeping discomfort came upon me. I couldn’t see the faces of Edison and his bride because they were backing the audience and facing the priest. The bridegroom looked taller and slimmer than ‘Edo’. This couldn’t be ‘Edo.’   I got up, went into the faces of the bride and the groom. The couple was not Mr. and Mrs. Edison Jefford. We were at the wrong wedding.
The bride’s father is a popular Lindener with the nickname Zar. I ran down the steps and asked the gathering on the street if Zar’s daughter got married early in the afternoon. “Mr. Freddie, the procession just left; drive up quickly and you will catch them,” a young man said to us. Off we went and Leonard Craig yelled out, “Look the wedding procession, let’s cut in.”
We joined the long line of vehicles making noise with their horns and the hazard lights flashing. But wait a minute! Something was wrong. These vehicles were going in the opposite direction in Linden to where the Watooka Club is and where Edo’s reception is being held. As the traffic built-up, we got close to a car; “Is this Edison Jefford’s wedding,” we yelled out.” “Sorry, Freddie Kissoon, you’re in the wrong procession,” came a voice from the car.
I was soaking wet when I reached Watooka, gave my appreciation talk, immediately after took off my tie and shirt, donned an old T-shirt and enjoyed a wonderful night with ‘Edo’, his bride, their families and their guests.

 

 

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