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Barbados: a beautiful but humbling experience.
Dear Editor
There is wanton suffering in paradise. I did not realise that my first few days in Barbados saw me as just another tourist that could afford the luxury and beauty of that Island. It was from that vantage point that I had done a LIVE, glorifying the majestic beauty of the island; how safe and affluent it was and certainly it will always be that way through the eyes of tourists.
Legend Condos, the place where I stayed is located in Mullins, St Peters, somewhere on a coast by the sprawling blue sea. It is a beautiful estate; a forested place with monkeys and birds. The sea is directly across the road from Legend Condos. The matriarch and patriarch of the estate, a white woman and blackman were friendly, pleasantly accommodating, warm and receptive. Legend Condos was a home away from home because of that genuinely lovely couple. I would recommend that place to anyone visiting Barbados.
Gravitating to the capital, Bridgetown and other parishes where I came face to face with the real Barbados was nothing but astonishing. Black people were hustling to survive in a paradise of poverty. In my life’s struggle it has always been human suffering that concerned me. Yes, beautiful sites are a thing to behold. To paraphrase a great Black leader from America, “ mountains are mountains and seas are seas, rivers are rivers and trees are trees but it is human suffering I am interested in.” I listened to the stories of the difficulties, daily struggles and impoverishment from the mouths of the man and woman in the streets.
I saw countless homeless Blackmen on the roadways. Mental illness is rife there. I am told that people trafficking is a phenomenon on that Island and drug abuse is widespread; perhaps an escape to shut the pain out in a paradise that offers the ordinary people nothing but a tough life. Even in the ghettos people are dressed in a trendy way and the women are voluptuous and beautiful with natural hair mostly in dreadlocks. Yet, it is the ghetto and those great people in it that offered me the best experience; one that no amount of money can purchase. I thank them from the depths of my soul.
The love I received from my Guyanese brothers and sisters was humbling. Many of our people walked up to me and in conversation showed me their arms with the pours raised on them. No amount of money can make up for the kind words spoken to and of me. As the Virgin Atlantic plane lifted skyward, quiet tears trickled down my face.
Regards,
Norman Browne
Social and Political Activist
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