Kei­th An­der­son

I got a call from Rin­gling Broth­ers and they want­ed to know where they could find some clowns. I won­dered why they called me, and how they got my num­ber. I know Trinidad and To­ba­go is filled with clowns in pol­i­tics, so I thought it wouldn't be hard to find them. Every day they pro­vide the stress-filled na­tion with com­ic re­lief. In­stant­ly, I thought about go­ing down to the Wood­brook head­quar­ters of the Con­gress of the Peo­ple (COP), al­so called Co­me­di­an on Pa­rade. I un­der­stand they have a op­er­a­tions cen­tre in cen­tral Trinidad but I wasn't in­ter­est­ed in go­ing there. I al­so thought about go­ing to Bal­isi­er House to get some PNM clowns and the Reinzi Com­plex for some UNC clowns, but rain was falling. I even thought about go­ing up by the Diplo­mat­ic Cen­tre but the se­cu­ri­ty was tight, tight, tight. How­ev­er, when the taxi reached the Con­gress head­quar­ters which was paint­ed all white, I alight­ed, paid the dri­ver and was on my mer­ry way. As I en­tered I said good morn­ing to the love­ly re­cep­tion­ist and told her my mis­sion. I told her I was look­ing for some clowns. "Po­lit­i­cal clowns?" she asked, with a smile. I said: "Yes." She said: "You have come to the right place." "Whom do you want to see?" she said, hand­ing me a list. I said: "As many clowns as you would al­low."

She be­came more forth­right and asked for some names. I told her I want­ed to see the flip-flop man Prakash Ra­mad­har. She said he wasn't there but in­vit­ed me to see Joseph Toney, chair­man of the co­me­di­ans. He looked im­por­tant be­hind his desk. He greet­ed me with a hand­shake and asked me if I came with the me­dia, as if he was hid­ing from the me­dia. He had on a pol­ka dot suit. Like he did with Ver­non De Li­ma, he pulled me in­to an of­fice marked "pri­vate." Af­ter ex­chang­ing a few pleas­antries I told him my mis­sion. I told him I was look­ing for some clowns to tour the USA and pos­si­bly put on a grand show in Trinidad and To­ba­go for In­de­pen­dence. "That is why you come here?" he asked. "We don't have any clowns here, we have co­me­di­ans." I agreed but was still con­vinced that there were a few clowns around, be­cause what pass­es for pol­i­tics com­ing from the Con­gress of the Peo­ple was in­deed a cir­cus. I told him there was mon­ey to be made, as clowns were in de­mand all over the world. Chair­man Toney, as if still shell-shocked from the Mus­limeen ex­pe­ri­ence when he got a gun butt to the head, just could not think clear­ly. I asked him how come he was afraid to an­swer ques­tions from the me­dia and how they al­ways play­ing they love the me­dia on­ly when they want their point of view to be known. He couldn't an­swer. What was there to hide? I asked him what hap­pened to new pol­i­tics and why there was so much dis­uni­ty in the COP.

I asked him how could he run a po­lit­i­cal par­ty with peo­ple say­ing dif­fer­ent things at dif­fer­ent in­ter­vals. Where is the dis­ci­pline? He shook his head. I asked him about Anil Roberts and how the dis­ci­pli­nary ac­tion was pro­ceed­ing. He said: "You see that, I don't want to talk about that." I said it looked like Anil is the chief spokesman of the Peo­ple's Part­ner­ship and it looked like he has al­ready jumped ship. He is de­fy­ing the par­ty lead­er­ship and they do not know what to do.

I said: "Al­lyuh look for that, know­ing how he used to rant and rave on the ra­dio. He was a tough cook­ie to han­dle. He should be nowhere near pol­i­tics." Same time Prakash came through the door mak­ing flips dressed in a pol­ka dot suit. I said: "Prakash, you are the man Rin­gling Broth­ers are look­ing for, you could re­al­ly flip." Prakash got an­gry when I asked him if he was in­ter­est­ed in the cir­cus work. He told me he was "just ex­er­cis­ing and act­ing as the AG."

I knew the COP had its own cir­cus, but I still asked him nonethe­less. I asked him if the COP still want­ed Mar­lene Coudray's may­oral seat and if the COP will still go it alone. I knew the COP didn't know if it was com­ing or go­ing. The par­ty had lost its way.

Prakash said: "Not me and that. It get me in­to too much trou­ble." I could tell he was still reel­ing from a blow-out in Cab­i­net be­cause he looked grog­gy. His head was ban­daged. He al­so smelled of Bengues balm. I saw a box of Panadol in his pock­et. Then, I asked about Win­ston Dook­er­an in all this com­e­dy. A hush came over the place. I left the Con­gress head­quar­ters de­ject­ed. No one want­ed to join Rin­gling Broth­ers be­cause they had their own po­lit­i­cal cir­cus and was re­al­ly en­ter­tain­ing the na­tion. Every day the pa­pers had kicks and old pol­i­tics and the kicks­men blamed the me­dia as hav­ing mis­rep­re­sent­ed them when they got in a jam. I was con­fused. How could this par­ty of prin­ci­ples do such a thing and talk new pol­i­tics and now hide from the me­dia. Added to that one of their own washed his mouth on the me­dia com­plain­ing about de­cline in me­dia ethics. What about po­lit­i­cal ethics? You see me, I gone!