The Parrot was deeply engrossed in a vocal activity whilst in the washing chamber, the bathroom. Ah ha, I can imagine what your thoughts are. I wasn’t doing that. I was singing whilst bathing; well, trying to. In many cases, fellow Parrots will so exercise their vocal prowess in an attempt to mitigate boredom. This vocal mitigation is often enhanced in the said chamber and further still, when being the only occupant in the place of abode at the time. Well, there are many such times for me; one of which I would never forget.

Whilst in the midst of cleansing my plumage which was accompanied by high-decibel vocalisation, I heard strange noises; strange loud noises; strange noises I have only heard whilst viewing a scary movie. I immediately muted my oral exposition and stopped the flow of water. Petrified, I listened. The noises were repeated. I shivered. I thought a jumbie had entered. I am scared of jumbies. My plumage contracted. Water rapidly flowed from my outer body. I was all alone and “afrightened”. I called out and no one answered. The noises ceased. I called again. The passing minutes seemed like light years.

After about five “light years” and much calling I mustered the courage to follow the direction of the sounds. I reached, eventually with a cross in my hand. I geared my mind for an encounter with a jumbie, or ghost. What I saw brought relief immediately. My fright was replaced by anger. Here was my neighbour’s big ugly tom-cat comfortably lapping my milk on my breakfast table. This bowl of milk was covered with a basin which was in turn covered with a big pot. These are precautionary measures even though the cat never drank my milk. Other Parrots in the neighbourhood warned about this cat. I was now a victim of his lapping.

I realised that the first sound was that of the pot crashing to the concrete floor and the second was that of the basin suffering a similar fate. On seeing me, the cat, which became much more petrified than I, scampered. Much later I realised his scampering was twofold; my presence and my unaware nudeness. He may not have recovered from such a sight. But, who cares. I was relieved. This incident caused me to ponder on how some people can actually interact with jumbie and show no inclination of fear. Is either they born with “caal” or them is jumbie themselves. Jumbie ain’t supposed to frighten jumbie, right? This jumbie kind of “interaction” was seemingly evident during the protest outside the Rum JHAATan’s office downtown Georgetown last week.

The protesters of concerned citizen stood up “placarding” peacefully outside this “Key” man’s office. Up come some brazen rePORTERS who proceeded to interview the standing citizens with placards. All kinds of questions were asked. Who you is? Where you is from? Who is you representing? Who leading you? Even, who funding you was asked. Brazen eh? Never is meh born life I see reporters soliciting comments from protesters. The Place of CONgress organised plenty protests since 1997. I never hear these rePORTERS soliciting any comments from the marchers.

Since Simels started to talk from a cage….sorry, from the court dock in NY, Uncle Bob, who won re-election last week at the Place of CONgress and Ruff-fella, Uncle Bob’s “Key” alliance, started to protest. Up to yesterday five placard bearers were outside Uncle Bharrat’s office “placarding”. How come these same rePORTERS ain’t asking dem questions? How come Go-Mo from CaPITal news and his friends from the DePress ASSociation ain’t asking this set of protesters anything? Why only one set of protesters getting asked plenty nuff questions? Why the silence? I ain’t hearing no noise. De water turn off? De vocal activity (question asking) done? A jumbie was spotted? Knock, knock. Say something Gordon. Why only ask one set of protesters getting questioned?

To throw salt pun crapaud back, this same set of rePORTERS after talking to the protesters outside the RumJHATTan’s office, reported that the same protesters were phantoms! Phantom is a fancy word fuh jumbie. It also means ghost. So how come de livin’ people turn phantom in the TV news and in the newspaper? When the interviewing was going on, the rePORTERS conducting it didn’t look frighten like I was in the washing chamber. By dem own words and pictures, the protesters in question are phantoms; jumbies; ghosts. The rePORTERS ain’t born wid “caal”.

The only “caal” they get is when Uncle Bob and the DePress ASSociation call dem for instructions on how to “buse” up Uncle Bharrat. So if dem ain’t born wid call, the only reason they could be talking to “jumbies” and don’t be “afrightened”, is that they themselves have to be ghosts! So it was ghosts talking to jumbies. I gone I don’t like jumbies. I going and get some garlic to put on meh door and some laxative to put in the milk to teach the big ugly tom cat a lesson. I can now exercise my vocals “unafrightened” whilst washing in the chamber in my birth suit. No peeking. Squawk! Squawk!