“Lord, I just want to en­joy a safe Christ­mas, stay in my zone, mind my busi­ness, lime with my fam­i­ly, and sur­vive un­til 2027.”

It sounds al­most hu­mor­ous. But be­neath the hu­mour lies a trou­bling re­al­i­ty. It is the cry of a peo­ple who are be­com­ing in­creas­ing­ly anx­ious about their safe­ty, fam­i­lies, their liveli­hoods and their fu­ture.

In Trinidad and To­ba­go, we have reached a point where the sim­ple de­sire to live an or­di­nary life with­out fear is be­gin­ning to feel like a lux­u­ry.

Just when we should be look­ing for­ward to the warmth, joy and fel­low­ship of Christ­mas, Car­ni­val is al­ready wait­ing around the cor­ner.

Christ­mas is sup­posed to bring peace. Car­ni­val is sup­posed to bring joy. Why, then, are so many peo­ple prepar­ing for both with a mea­sure of fear?

This is our re­al­i­ty check.

There was a time when Christ­mas in T&T meant chil­dren ea­ger­ly an­tic­i­pat­ing their presents, fam­i­lies prepar­ing pastelles and black cake, parang spilling from open win­dows, neigh­bours ex­chang­ing greet­ings, and peo­ple mov­ing around with a lit­tle more good­will than usu­al.

We still have those beau­ti­ful tra­di­tions.

But there is an un­com­fort­able ad­di­tion to the Christ­mas check­list these days, per­son­al se­cu­ri­ty.

We are learn­ing to man­age risk in our every­day lives, of­ten with­out the ben­e­fit of pro­fes­sion­al train­ing, re­li­able in­for­ma­tion or any re­al sense of con­trol.

When vi­o­lence be­comes suf­fi­cient­ly fa­mil­iar, some­thing else hap­pens, we risk be­com­ing de­sen­si­tised to it.

A killing be­comes an­oth­er head­line. A rob­bery be­comes an­oth­er What­sApp voice note. A griev­ing fam­i­ly be­comes an­oth­er pass­ing item in the news cy­cle. But let us nev­er for­get that be­hind every sta­tis­tic is a hu­man be­ing. We can­not al­low the fre­quen­cy of vi­o­lence to di­min­ish the val­ue we place on hu­man life.

The com­ing weeks will bring in­creased move­ment, crowd­ed shop­ping ar­eas, of­fice par­ties, fam­i­ly gath­er­ings, fetes, con­certs and late-night en­ter­tain­ment. Busi­ness­es will be han­dling greater vol­umes of cus­tomers and, in many cas­es, more cash. Peo­ple will be trav­el­ling, cel­e­brat­ing and so­cial­is­ing.

These are op­por­tu­ni­ties for le­git­i­mate busi­ness­es and a wel­come boost for sec­tions of our econ­o­my. They are al­so cir­cum­stances that re­quire care­ful se­cu­ri­ty plan­ning.

Crim­i­nals ex­ploit op­por­tu­ni­ty, rou­tine, dis­trac­tion and vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty. The so­phis­ti­ca­tion of crim­i­nal ac­tiv­i­ty means that se­cu­ri­ty can­not de­pend on locks, cam­eras and a prayer alone.

The an­swer is not to can­cel Christ­mas or lock our­selves away un­til Car­ni­val is over. It is to cel­e­brate in­tel­li­gent­ly, pre­pare re­spon­si­bly and de­mand ef­fec­tive pub­lic pro­tec­tion.

There is noth­ing wrong with want­i­ng to stay in your zone.

But stay­ing in your zone must not mean turn­ing a blind eye to what is hap­pen­ing around you.

Se­cure your homes and busi­ness­es. Be dis­creet when han­dling cash. Avoid pre­dictable rou­tines where pos­si­ble. Re­main alert when leav­ing banks and oth­er fi­nan­cial in­sti­tu­tions. Do not ad­ver­tise your move­ments, pur­chas­es or valu­ables un­nec­es­sar­i­ly on so­cial me­dia. Arrange safe trans­porta­tion, look out for vul­ner­a­ble rel­a­tives, and re­port sus­pi­cious ac­tiv­i­ty through ap­pro­pri­ate chan­nels.

Busi­ness­es should re­view their se­cu­ri­ty arrange­ments be­fore the sea­son peaks. Staff must un­der­stand what to do dur­ing a rob­bery, how to re­port in­ci­dents and how to pro­tect them­selves and cus­tomers. Cam­eras, alarms, light­ing, ac­cess con­trols and trained per­son­nel should form part of a co­or­di­nat­ed se­cu­ri­ty plan.

Most im­por­tant­ly, do not risk your life pro­tect­ing mon­ey or mer­chan­dise. Prop­er­ty can be re­placed. A hu­man life can­not.

Per­son­al vig­i­lance mat­ters, but let us be clear: pre­ven­tion, in­tel­li­gence-led polic­ing, ef­fec­tive in­ves­ti­ga­tions, pros­e­cu­tion, in­ter-agency co­op­er­a­tion and time­ly re­spons­es re­main es­sen­tial re­spon­si­bil­i­ties of the State.

We need more than an­nounce­ments and tem­po­rary in­ter­ven­tions. We need sus­tained, mea­sur­able ac­tion, in­formed by ev­i­dence, with clear ob­jec­tives and ac­count­abil­i­ty for re­sults.

Per­haps the most painful part of this sit­u­a­tion is that we are be­gin­ning to low­er our ex­pec­ta­tions. We are not ask­ing for per­fec­tion. We know that no so­ci­ety can elim­i­nate every crime or guar­an­tee ab­solute safe­ty.

The cry of the ground is a de­mand for peace of mind, vis­i­ble ac­tion, safer com­mu­ni­ties and the restora­tion of con­fi­dence in our abil­i­ty to live, work and cel­e­brate with­out be­ing con­sumed by fear.

As we move to­wards 2027, the coun­try must con­front a dif­fi­cult ques­tion: What does na­tion­al de­vel­op­ment re­al­ly mean if or­di­nary cit­i­zens can­not con­fi­dent­ly en­joy the free­doms that make life worth liv­ing?

Eco­nom­ic growth, tourism and in­vest­ment mat­ter. Car­ni­val mat­ters. But se­cu­ri­ty is the foun­da­tion up­on which these as­pi­ra­tions must rest. No econ­o­my can reach its full po­ten­tial when fear be­comes a reg­u­lar fea­ture of every­day life.

So, this Christ­mas, let us look out for one an­oth­er, cel­e­brate re­spon­si­bly, ex­er­cise sound judge­ment and refuse to sur­ren­der our com­mu­ni­ties to fear. Let our se­cu­ri­ty ser­vices re­main alert, our busi­ness­es pre­pared, our lead­ers ac­count­able and our cit­i­zens en­gaged.

Let us re­mem­ber those fam­i­lies for whom this Christ­mas will be marked by an emp­ty chair and a grief that no parang, par­ty or pub­lic state­ment can erase.

We want to lime, laugh and cel­e­brate. We want to en­joy Car­ni­val with­out look­ing over our shoul­ders every five min­utes. We want to live. Is that too much to ask of the land of our birth?

Per­haps the most hon­est Christ­mas wish in Trinidad and To­ba­go this year is not for more gifts, more fetes or more mon­ey.

It is sim­ply this....Let me en­joy a safe Christ­mas, stay in my zone, and sur­vive un­til 2027.

That is not mere­ly a wish.

It is the cry of the ground.