Across the length and breadth of Barbados, on every corner and especially at our roundabouts you see them – the ackee brigade, the ackee enterprise. From Bawdens in St Andrew to Bayfield in St Philip, you see them. From Joe’s River in St Joseph to Silver Sands in Christ Church, they come with one determination, one intention. Whether they own a tree or not, with pride they ply their trade. So what are we to make of these young men who have chosen this trade?
But first of all, true to form, the Caribbean is a region of difference and diversity. The late Right Excellent Errol Barrow, one of our National Heroes, in what was his last address to CARICOM, queried: “. . . Who will buy my white sand? Who will buy my grey sand?” He went on to talk of how we are linked “by the inestimable bonds of consanguinity . . . .
Like many other regional leaders, this political icon has expressed fascination with the rainbow array of colours that represent the people of the Caribbean.
The late professor Guyanese Dr Richard Allsopp spent the last 20 years of his life working on a Dictionary Of Caribbean English Usage in which he researched and unravelled the enigma that surrounded our flora and fauna of the region.
One of the major findings of his research is the extent to which similar fruits and plants are named differently as one moves across the region.
Just as the “dougla girl” of Michael Anthony’s Green Days By The River, set in Trinidad and Tobago, is different in appearance and personality from the Bajan superstar Rihanna, so is our ackee from Jamaica.
So what is the fruit that is made available across the Barbadian landscape particularly during the summer months? Well, according to Dr Allsopp, the Jamaican ackee, which is a key ingredient of their national dish ackee and saltfish, is not the same as the green, marble-shaped succulent fruit whose cream-coated seed must be sucked cleaned before disposal.
The Jamaican ackee, as described by Richard Allsopp, is a pendant, scarlet, pear-shaped fruit, splitting in three when ripe and disclosing three shiny black seeds attached to a cream-coloured flesh, which is edible and grown on an evergreen tree.
While the Jamaican ackee is a native of West Africa, the regional lexicographer tells us that our ackee is a native of Central and South America. Interestingly, what we in Barbados ply around our roundabouts as ackee is called many other names across the region.
While St Vincent and St Lucia refer to it as ackee like we do, in The Bahamas and the Turks & Caicos the same fruit is called canep or canop.
In Montserrat it is called canip while in Tobago and the Spice Isle of Grenada, they call it chenep or chenip.
The Dominicans and the Trinidadians call it chennette. So which seed are we “sucking”?
The reality is that whether we call it chenip or guinep or chennette, we are sucking the juice from the same succulent fruit across this region.
If Shakespeare had known of the taste and varied nomenclature of the same fruit across the region, he might have written: “If ackee be the food of love, suck on, give me excess of it, that surfeiting the appetite might ‘never die’ . . . .”
Our ackee is “a marble-sized fruit with a tough green skin covering a scant but pleasant-tasting salmon-coloured pulp on a hard seed. It is grown in large grape-like bunches on a big deciduous green tree that usually has a thick trunk”.
That is the fruit that brings out the entrepreneurial interest, albeit short-lived, among many of our young men who would otherwise be idle or involved in some suspected nefarious activity. I have observed a few who sell sugar apples, star apples along with the ackees.
This is to be commended. I have been reliably informed that this ackee enterprise, like its fruit, is a regional spectacle during the summer months.
Why can’t the Ministry of Labour and the Ministry of Youth coordinate a fruit vendors’ seminar specifically for these itinerant vendors.
I am sure Dr Esther Byer-Suckoo has sucked many an ackee across her constituency in St George South. Knowing Minister of Youth Stephen Lashley and his St John connection, he must have grown up sucking ackees too.
The first order of business is to advise the youngsters to “hold a bath” and enhance their presentation. The Ministry of Agriculture might look at propagating a variety that bears fruit all year round on a smaller tree. The Ministry of Tourism in its promotion of Barbados might also promote the members of de ackee enterprise as viable stakeholders in the industry.
Rather than seeing these guys as nuisances to be shunned, let us develop them as viable young entrepreneurs with their own little but potentially big stake in our entrepreneurial culture. Let’s help them not just to sell a bunch but more importantly, maybe to plant a tree in de ackee enterprise.
