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Sep 07, 2014 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon
On Thursday morning after dropping off my wife to work, I encountered a horror show at the junction where Lamaha Street adjoins Irving Street and Vlissengen Road. As I approached the junction heading north, I saw a female teenage running wildly on the eastern side of the parapet trying desperately to drag with her a large container that appeared very heavy.
She looked about 19, was not thin-bodied, and her style of clothing was certainly not middle class. Her looks were desperate and as she kept running, she was looking back up the southern section of Irving Street with fear printed all over her face. Something was wrong. I felt the pressing need to go to her rescue.
I slammed on my brakes, came out and went to her. She pointed to a Ministry of Works truck coming for her. I hurriedly asked her to explain. She said she and others sell manufactured, bottled water moving up and down the parapet and the Ministry of Works sends the crew to confiscate their stuff.
I was really mad. You had to see me in action then you would know that I have a mad streak in me. My decibels were so shattering that the employees at the importation firm, CIRKEL, at the eastern point of the junction all came out to see what was happening. Traffic had come to a halt and the motorists were all watching.
I took the container from her, told her it now belonged to me, and her role had come to and end. Let the crew deal with me. They drove up. I cussed them down very loudly for which I make no apologies. I was prepared to be arrested, but they were not taking away the livelihood from that little girl.
I yelled out about all the rich companies that have encumbered the roadways. I reminded the crew members that they too came from poor families and were sent by their slave masters to deny an income from one of their own. They listened, said not a word, then the driver shouted; “F…k you Freddie.” I was not going to go without a fight.
This was a horrible manifestation of apartheid in Guyana and not one group or citizen is doing anything about it. Imagine the Ministry of Works is running down poor water vendors when the whole of Guyana is dirty and stink. The trench alongside the parapet where this little lass was scampering away is stink and putrid. All over Georgetown, the garbage has maggots and worms crawling onto the streets threatening the health of a nation. And the Ministry of Works can find time to chase water vendors from the parapet.
I am sure this little girl’s parents and relatives are PNC supporters. But PNC leaders will read this and tomorrow the Ministry of Works will continue their apartheid hunt. Preach how much you want, this little girl has no one to protect her. The Red Thread people are going to read this and there will no picket outside Robeson Benn’s Ministry. The folks from ACDA will read this and there will be no confrontation with the Works Ministry. The same with Cuffy 250, Ghana Day Committee, 1823 coalition, the TUC, the AFC etc. The patron-saint of the Guyana Human Rights Association, Mike Mc Cormack, is into rugby these days. He left the human rights arena moons ago.
As for the PNC, they will do nothing to stop this horror show by the Ramotar Government. Last week, I made a flippant remark in front of APNU parliamentarian, James Bond. I was climbing down the steps of the Sparendaam magistrate court where I went to investigate an accusation of judicial cover-up.
My friend, attorney Ganesh Singh was going up the stairs with James Bond in front of him, I said loudly to Singh, “Moti, you’re my friend, I hope you do some free work for us, unlike people like James Bond.” I wanted Bond to hear. He heard, smiled and looked curiously at me. I looked straight at him and intoned, “I meant what I said.”
The PNC simply has let down its constituencies, just as the PPP has. It is indeed a tragedy how these two parties treat their voters. Poor people never go to the PNC when their family members are wrongfully taken to the police stations. They know PNC lawyers will not go.
Last week the Office of Professional Responsibility of the Guyana Police Force called me to assist with its investigation based on my August 21st column, “Motherly money, motherly sex in the police force,” that dealt with misbehaviour of junior ranks at Sparendaam station. I told them not to call me again. The culprits are the senior ranks as well the junior ones.
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