Someone who has been following my writings sent me an e-mail suggesting that I escape the country before it is too late. Trinis in the Diaspora digest troubling headlines emanating from this imploding democracy with a sense of comfort, like warm cocoa with marshmallows bobbing on the surface.
This comfort is derived no doubt from their conviction that the right choice was made for themselves and their families. To suggestions of fleeing into exile, I usually trot out a facetious response, something like, "Man, if I could have gotten citizenship in the US I would have been freezing my a-- off 10 years ago!"
Recently though I have revised my responses. They have become more measured and circumspect, contemplative of the seriousness not only of the recommendations of those who have fled to less bloodthirsty climes but of the increasingly shifting sands in my heart. When I was snowed in in New York city, there was little else to do but travel down 28 floors to stand in snow drifts to smoke a cigarette on a frozen sidewalk or stay shuttered; watching the New York news. News of this major metropolitan city seemed downright pedestrian when compared to reporting in Trinidad, where there are battles every night for the latest scandals to seize the lead.
I resisted comment on the Reshmi Ramnarine issue because there was so much chatter about it, there seemed little point throwing in my two cents. The situation degenerated to the extent, however, that I found myself downing Pepto-Bismol shooters every day just to cope with the physical manifestation of the stress all of this upheaval had wrought. As in tag team "wrasslin'," I had to tag in when I saw the Prime Minister being questioned in her African kit. Looking at our normally composed Prime Minister positively bristling at the interrogation by the press corps (reporters were busy setting "Reshmi snares" for government officials all over Port-of-Spain), it made me pine for the days of the roiled contempt locked behind Basdeo Panday's Cheshire cat grin.
The media were doing their duty, yet it seemed in almost every interview conducted over the past two weeks, ministers all carried the expression of someone walked in on while sitting on the toilet.
The headlines screamed "Prime Minister annoyed! Prime minister irritated!" That could easily have been avoided; announce an impending news conference during which the Reshmi Ramnarine matter would be ventilated in all its gory detail. The problem with going off the cuff is that not everyone is good at it. Ask any journalist who has ever ambushed Basdeo Panday after a function; he will hit you with a smile so wide you could estimate the value of his gold work.
Then he would give you a verbose, seemingly substantial response that, only until you are back at your computer do you realise that he has given you "news" not even worthy of passing on to the reporter in the cubicle next to you. Awwww yeah! You know what it is! Panday was the master of the non-answer answer. Now it was National Security Minister John Sandy who upset the apple cart. Everyone was holding on to their apologies, seemingly unaware that an apology has a limited shelf life. If stored improperly or held for too long an apology can become a vaffanculo. Minister Sandy was, however, the one who unwittingly delivered a pack of untruths in Parliament. Sandy had no choice but to genuflect and apologise for his sins of omission among others. With that fissure in the dam, the rest of the apologies began to tumble out, each individual hoping for absolution from the public with this simple gesture.
Others decided on the less honourable route of blaming others for the snafu, insisting that the Prime Minister could not be held responsible if she was fed bad intel. None of that really mattered because, only last week the Prime Minister was defending Reshmi Ramnarine, almost expressing sympathy at her having to resign because of overexposure (an environment of overexposure created by the Prime Minister herself when the Government gleefully set off the SIA bomb in the opposition's face.)
Mrs Persad-Bissessar clumsily skirted the fact that, at the heart of this controversy, was a falsified resume upon which a young nobody rose to a level of supreme responsibility and authority with g-forces that would make the space shuttle ascent seem glacial by comparison. As for the star of this ongoing saga, Reshmi Ramnarine, I would not be surprised if, given the oppressive weight of negative publicity, she had followed Calder Hart in the relatively comforting arms of exile. At any rate, the only way her resume would be taken seriously by any prospective employer in this country in the wake of this fiasco is if she matriculated at Hogwarts. What also cannot be ignored in this whole cock-up is the Prime Minister's obviously ill-tempered response to Mr Sandy's attempts to pull himself from the burning wreckage.
She vociferously insisted that he was informed at every step of the way of Ramnarine's appointment. In essence, the Prime Minister was calling the Minister of National Security out! Mr Sandy could have decided that this constituted an affront to his reputation and the only suitable course would be a resignation. Thankfully that has not happened, and the Prime Minister seems keen now on bringing the ship around with an acknowledgement that this was a huge...well, I just cannot say it here but you have been muttering it to yourself so just go ahead and fill in the blank. Even as that fire was dying down, COP member Robert Mayers decided to hurl some more gasoline with his incendiary suggestion that the People's Partnership be removed from office and we just start from scratch. To quote David Rudder, "dat kinda head couldn't come from weed!"
I have a tremendous amount of respect for Mr Mayers but this was a highly irresponsible remark, one that we have not even had from the PNM! It is becoming obvious that the convulsions in the COP which emerged during the election campaign never died down. This is why when you turn to Anil is slap, you turn to Joseph Toney is chap,...slap, chap...slap chap and so on. If members of the COP aren't careful they might find their own party torn asunder long before the demise of the People's Partnership. To those who ask why I am still here, whatever hope man holds in his heart he carries with him wherever he goes. My hope is for my country to rise above our failures and I believe we still can. We have very far to go, this transformation I will not see in my life time. I will not have children because they are costly and inconvenient but I am all about legacy. If there is something I can do, no matter how small, to improve my country then I am duty bound to do so. And too besides...apart from the bad driving, stinkmout', tiefin' corrupt, overfetin' Trinis, this place is pretty special, never mind the decay.