Thursday, April 18, 2024

When ya dog bite . . .

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LORD HAVE MERCY! Now who tell dat young man Sir Roy tuh go and presumptuously open he mout’ tuh call a big-able business owner, who got a different colour, different hair, different nose, wid a different kinda foreign accent, an Egyptian Jew?
But looka my crosses though nuh? Looka wha’ he Sir Roy gone and do; he gone in this day and age and stir up a whole ants’ nest. Now because Sir Roy said what he had tuh say, evahbody picking he tuh pieces. Evahbody looking tuh cut loose the man throat.
Sir Roy, you see wha you gone and do?
Okay, look, as far as I am concerned, I doan condone foolishness ’cause foolishness ain’t sense. I feel ya woulda get all ya facts straight first before you get suh passionate ’bout the whole thing and get carried away. Sir Roy, I am a Bajan, born and bred pon this li’l rock and I know dat you is one too, but leh me tell you something: the people ’bout here real real funny, especially when it comes tuh talking ’bout certain kinds o’ people.
Facts straight
Sir Roy, I know you is a big experienced union man and I am sure dat you know how tuh pick you battles. I know you ain’t gine go into nuh kinda war wid you two eyeballs shut down tight. I know dat you wudda have tuh get you facts straight before you open you mout’ tuh say any kinda thing tuh a man like this foreign fella, knowing how some Bajans feel ’bout certain foreigners.
You shoulda understand that dat man ain’t nuh low island person. He ain’t nuh Vincie, nuh Lucian, nor nuh Trini. He ain’t even look like nuhbody from ’bout these parts.
Sir Roy, I want you tuh know dat ya ain’t suppose tuh interfere wid dem kinda people so; dem like duh untouchable. Ya doan ruffle dem feathers. Nuh matter how many businesses dem kinda people so got ’bout the place, dem does know how tuh get duh bread butter, where the bread or the butter does come from and who does butter the very bread.
You ain’t see dat dem kinda people does come from far far away and establish duhselves, and all o’ we Bajans, uh mean poor-tail people who look and sound just like me and you, does be brekking down duh doors morning, noon and night lapping up wha’evah duh got fuh sale. Ya remember the Christmas duty-free sale? You woulda nevah believe the people ’bout here did saying how things hard.
Sir Roy, I hope you taking note and realize dat from the time you open you mout’ and let dem pow’ful words bong out, the papers was full o’ letters lambasting you. The people pon the call-in programmes was having a field day at your expense. All sorts o’ people like hyenas was trying tuh devour you. I hope you realize dat the accents did very familiar, just like mine and yours.
I read one o’ the letters there in the SUNDAY SUN from probably one o’ very same people who you call you troops, you comrades, the ones who you say you gine call out and it said dat duh should tek ’way you “Sir”, you knighthood and leave you wid bare Roy. You could imagine dat?
Look, my sweet mother used tuh dead and say dat when ya own dog bite ya, ya well bitten. Bob Marley dead and leff we wid these words from one o’ he songs name Redemption Song: “Emancipate ya’self from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds”. You hear dat, Sir Roy? You hear dem two words? Mental slavery!
Slavery done
But ya cahn fuhget the calypsonian Commander, he say tell dem Slavery Done. Huh! I ain’t know ’bout dat, not when I could read dat some o’ the workers in some o’ these big-up foreigner places does only work fuh $800 a month and you see how dem does have tuh dress and look pon dah kinda money? But we does give only certain people permission tuh do as duh like ’bout here.
I would never forget dat time before Prime Minister David Thompson dead when the law enforcement officers used tuh lay-wait fuh poor Guyanese fellas who was here trying tuh make a few dollar bills tuh send tuh duh families back home; fellas who was here working fuh a honest dollar and fellas who look just like dem, and pick dem up in the middle o’ the night, just so.
I hope you understand where I coming from, Sir Roy. Dem is we own low-island people, dem only from down the road there but we treat duh so; dem ain’t from far, far away wid certain kinda features – straight hair, talking funny and got a piece o’ change in duh pocket. So Sir Roy, union boss or nuh union boss, it look like ya doan open ya mout’ and say nutten ’bout dem kinda people so, hear? Some people like the Israelites would prefer tuh live in Egypt in slavery and bondage while making bricks outta straw than tuh fight fuh duh freedom in the desert. You could only imagine how poor Moses did feel.
• Mavis Beckles was born and raised in The Orleans. She has an opinion on everything.

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