Michelle Loubon

Against the back­drop of the flam­ing red cha­co­nia and the coat of arms, Pres­i­dent George Maxwell Richards pinned medals on il­lus­tri­ous cit­i­zens. Oc­ca­sion was the 48th Na­tion­al Awards cer­e­mo­ny at Queen's Hall, St Ann's, on Au­gust 31. It was an­oth­er proud mo­ment in T&T's his­to­ry–the com­mem­o­ra­tion of T&T's emer­gence as an In­de­pen­dent na­tion from British colo­nial­ism. Un­der Prime Min­is­ter Kam­la Per­sad- Bisses­sar's watch, farmer Za­hir Kas­sim Akaloo and re­tired print­ing op­er­a­tor Cyn­thia Toney stepped for­ward to re­ceive the Pub­lic Ser­vice Medal of Mer­it (Bronze). Man of the mo­ment Ka­malud­din Mo­hammed, re­cip­i­ent of the Or­der of the Re­pub­lic of T&T, re­ceived a lusty round of ap­plause. Al­though he clutched a walk­ing stick, his alert mind be­lied his 83 years, as he re­coiled in hor­ror at the wan­ton law­less­ness. Al Roberts, fa­ther of Sport Min­is­ter Anil Roberts, picked up the Hum­ming Bird Medal (Sil­ver) (posthu­mous­ly) for his wife Pa­tri­cia Roberts, for her de­vo­tion to com­mu­ni­ty ser­vice.

Look at pho­tog­ra­phers

As the awardees mount­ed the podi­um, Pres­i­dent Richards gen­tly in­di­cat­ed the di­rec­tion in which they should look. Rea­son be­ing: a pha­lanx of pho­tog­ra­phers wait­ing in the wings to cap­ture the mo­ment for pos­ter­i­ty. At times, rip­ples of laugh­ter would make the rounds of the me­dia pool when the re­cip­i­ent didn't pick up the Pres­i­dent's cue. Even the au­di­ence had some trou­ble in­ter­pret­ing Richards' in­struc­tion to vi­su­al­ly im­paired awardee, Ronald Car­los Greene. He re­ceived the Hum­ming Bird Medal (Sil­ver), for his con­tri­bu­tion to sport and pow­er­lift­ing. It must have been a bit chal­leng­ing for Au­gus­tine "Rock" Ribeiro, re­cip­i­ent of the Hum­ming Bird Medal (Sil­ver) in the sphere of sport. Dot­ing daugh­ter Hazel Ann Hug­gins said: "He's legal­ly blind."

Pop­u­lar colour: red

Be­fore the for­mal­i­ties, guests were fil­ing in and ex­chang­ing pleas­antries like "Hap­py In­de­pen­dence." Ca­lyp­son­ian Leroy Cal­liste's We Can Make It If We Try, gelled the pa­tri­ot­ic ex­pe­ri­ence. As ex­pect­ed, red was ubiq­ui­tous. Stu­dents know along with white and black, red–em­bla­zoned on the na­tion­al flag– rep­re­sents the vi­tal­i­ty of the land and its peo­ples. Sym­bol­ism said it fur­ther rep­re­sents the warmth and en­er­gy of the sun, and the peo­ple's courage and friend­li­ness. Cul­ture Min­is­ter Win­ston Pe­ters donned a pair of red shoes. Ac­com­pa­nied by his wife Mau­reen, who wore a watch with a red band, Works Min­is­ter Jack Warn­er donned a red, white and black tie. Pe­tite Clau­dia Pe­gus, re­cip­i­ent of the Cha­co­nia Medal (Sil­ver) for fash­ion, sport­ed a red dress–with a cylin­dri­cal base. Red shoes com­ple­ment­ed her frock.