The Chinese woman I hugged in Montreal

Aug 14, 2016 Features / Columnists, Freddie Kissoon

Last Monday after the court case of in which Kwame McCoy and company are charged for a nasty attack on me in May 2010, David Hinds and I exited the court yard together and I suggested we hop across the street to grab a bite at DEMICO. David said he was late for a Rodneyite grounding session with some youths. So he went in a southern direction. I took a northerly route. There and then this neatly dressed gentleman came up to me and related a story.
In journalism you meet the world’s weirdest people. Any practicing media operative in the business for more than ten years could easily write a book of experiences of life’s crazy moments with crazy people. People want you to write about their issues, but in many instances these descriptions contain large doses of personal vendetta, fantasies, fictions and maliciousness. As they say in common parlance, “they try a thing.” If you don’t know they are “trying a thing” you and the media house you write or broadcast for can end up getting sued for billions of dollars.
But the cardinal rule in journalism is that you must at all times listen. When you listen, you may be able to separate fact from fiction. Journalists tend to dismiss pleas of innocence quickly from men accused of rape. You carry around this feeling that the guy is a devil trying to save himself and he wants to use the media. But at all times you should listen; you may end up with the biggest scoop of your life.
During the May 2015 general elections, I would have a periodic car clean-up at a wash bay not far from the AFC’s office. Since I was in the AFC office, then it meant I didn’t have to waste time hanging around until the wash was finished.
Some friends came up to me to tell me this guy who once washed my car was jailed for 45 consecutive years in the High Court for inserting his fingers in the vagina of an underage child. I was told he didn’t have a lawyer. Well, he was their friend, so they could be just trying to help him. Their point was that the child’s mother had sought revenge against the accused who treated her badly in the past. When I read the deposition, my blood ran cold. This man should never have been charged. The evidence was not almost non-existent; it was non-existent. I adopted the cause of the wash bay guy and arranged for a lawyer to file an appeal.
No matter what the circumstances are, a journalist should listen. In the case of the gentleman last Monday, his story went like this. In a situation of revelry, he said a woman slapped him after accusing him of touching her buttocks. He said he slapped her back because her accusation was ridiculous. He said lots of revelers were doing their thing and maybe he accidentally touched her. He didn’t know she went for the police, but he was charged for slapping her and fondling her. He indicated that the police at the station believed the woman. For some reason, when I listened to him and looked at him, I felt I should take an interest. But I didn’t.
I remember most vividly a commotion outside Survival Supermarket on Sheriff Street in which the wife of one of Guyana’s most prominent dentists accused a customer of touching her buttocks as he opened his car door. The man was vehemently denying the allegation as I walked out of the supermarket and onto the scene. The then magistrate at Providence Court, Leslie Sobers, spoke to the woman and told her he witnessed the incident and that the man did not touch her deliberately. She was unmoved. I spoke to her and told her who Sobers was. But she was still unmoved. She wanted the police to come in. Sobers said he had to leave to attend court and I had to teach at UG. I don’t know what became of the matter.
There was an incident in 1980, my wife and I always laugh about and will never stop talking about. We were holidaying in Montreal and I had my hand around my wife’s neck. This was in the heart of the tourist district. There was a sudden push because of the largeness of the crowds. After I regained my step, my wife was nowhere in sight and I had my hand around a Chinese woman. I never knew and will never know how that happened. It was one of the most embarrassing moments and the most mysterious episodes in my life.

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The Chinese woman I hugged in Montreal

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