Latest update June 20th, 2026 1:58 AM
Latest News
- Lindsayca routing US-millions for foreign workers through payment firm, allegedly dodging tax and labour laws
- Exxon refuses to tell Guyanese cost of Ogle HQ being paid for with country’s oil
- Citizens Bank opens new branch in Bartica
- Israel kills ‘a child a day’ on average in Gaza despite ceasefire, UN says
- President Ali unveils bold plan to hand Guyanese greater stake in mining industry
The offensive ‘c-word’
Dear Editor,
Interesting views about the unsavoury ‘C-word’. I have often wondered why the ‘C-word’ could not be made politically incorrect as the ‘N-word’ has now become. Perhaps it is a case of one being universal, the other not.
In the late 1960s, when my 2-year old son was spending some time with his Afro grandparents in Guyana, one day, on a visit to them, I was shocked to hear him say “a coolie man is an Indian man”. So shocked in fact, that I immediately told him if he ever said that again in my presence I would slap him hard. Later on, I explained to him that his other grandfather (my father) was Indian and we were very proud of him. His aunt told me later that he had heard that from visitors. Anyway, he never repeated the view. The dictionary I use defines a ‘coolie’ as “Offensive. Old fashioned, an unskilled oriental labourer”.
Ironically, at school in London, his best chums were Indians, the offspring of parents from all over the world. In fact, one of the boys starting infant school with him was an Indian child from Guyana whose father was at the same school as my son’s father in B.G., and the headteacher was my son’s grandfather! They took to each other on sight, and on school visits to places of interest, by coach, the boy would show his “sanguages” to my son. Sometimes they would share. Now, active in community affairs, my son is heavily involved with Indians from the neighbourhood.
A good step would be to correct children from a young age that certain terms should be avoided. I was impressed, when visiting Luxor, Egypt, in the early 1990s, on seeing young boys of all shades, dressed in ‘long gowns’ holding hands along the road, skipping, often running behind horse-drawn cabs, skilfully avoiding the coach driver’s whip, giggling all the while. It struck me that religion and culture were their bond. Entertainment for me – and the coach-driver. A lesson for all of us.
Geralda Dennison
Share this:
Discover more from Kaieteur News
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.