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Dec 25, 2015 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon
A very long time ago, in the 19th century to be precise, a book mentioned the story of a little girl carrying a big baby in her hand. Someone asked her if she could manage and she replied; “He ain’t heavy; he’s my brother.” In what history books now refer to as the Age of the Hippies (the sixties and early seventies), an English group, The Hollies, recorded a moving, philosophical ballad that became a huge international hit.
“He ain’t heavy; he’s my brother” was recorded in 1969, when more than half the Guyanese population wasn’t born. But the present generation would be familiar with it, because it has been covered endlessly from the time of its recording, and as late as 2012 when a group named “The Justice Collective” that included Paul McCartney, redid it and made it into a number one hit in the UK.
The profits from the song were donated to charities associated with the “Hillsborough Massacre” where 96 persons lost their lives in a stampede during a Premier League football match (source – Wikipedia)
They say in the philosophy world that humans tend to behave worse than lower animals. Many folks think that there are lower animals that are preferable to Homo sapiens. But when you listen to “He ain’t heavy; he’s my brother” you may think that there is still a future for Homo sapiens.
Here are the lyrics of a wonderfully, touching reflection on the need for humans to be human and humane;
The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I’m strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother
So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We’ll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother
If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart
Isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another
It’s a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we’re on the way to there
Why not share
And the load
Doesn’t weigh me down at all
He ain’t heavy he’s my brother
He’s my brother
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother
I dedicate this song to all Guyanese on Christmas 2015. If any country needs to understand that there are poor, powerless and helpless people in whose burden we must share, it is Guyana. This is a very cruel country, where everything seems stacked against the lower classes. One just wonders how the poor make out in this land.
I look at myself and sometimes extreme guilt takes over. I went to the supermarket and picked up literally two packets of boneless, fatless beef, a packet of special mince, four packets of skinless and boneless chicken nuggets and a packet of chicken mince. My bill was just over seven thousand dollars. I know I ordered boneless and fatless stuff that cost more but, worldwide, people eat such meat because the cholesterol content is less. I guess working class people will never afford what I bought. The average working class family has to buy the rougher, less healthy meat.
This is a country where the electricity bill and water bill for average income earners combined are about $12,000 monthly. A house, with just a fridge and six fluorescent tubes with an electric iron incurs an electricity bill of $10,000 monthly. I know this because this happens to my nephew whose income is $40,000. An overseas friend of mine left two $50,000 school vouchers tenable at Austin’s Bookstore. He advised that I invite people to apply for them. I couldn’t cope with some of the sad stories I was receiving. I gave the vouchers to a foundation and quickly told those who contacted me that the process was over.
In the realm of distributive justice, this country is one of the most oppressive in the entire world, in the context of class structure. Go to the Georgetown Hospital on any given day and see how worthless life is in this country. In war-torn lands, medical urgency is probably more assured than at the Georgetown Hospital. Many of the doctors at this hospital are a disgrace to the Hippocratic Oath they took, if they took it in the first place. In the realm of the law, only poor people are prosecuted. Accused facing life imprisonment and unrepresented in court are reduced to mincemeat.
This is life in Guyana on Christmas 2015. Help the helpless, because he/she is your brother and sister.
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