Getting jail for eating sardine and bread
AS HE WALKED through the restaurant, Uncle Benji couldn’t help thinking about savouring ‘baigan choka’ and ‘sada roti’.
Gradually, his optimism waned as he began to fathom that maybe such an exquisite dining place may not be synonymous with his dietary craving. After taking his seat and being handed the menu, his doubts were confirmed. He now has to re-programme his taste buds for something else. He didn’t envisage such a tough task, given the wide range of delicacies being offered. He settled for something light. He was still in awe of the modern architectural structure he was in. He knew an old building once stood here. As a matter of fact, he knew many old buildings once stood in the neighbourhood. For him, the transformation is not only unbelievable, but was once unimaginable. Along the journey to the restaurant, Ryan pointed out the modern supermarkets that were opened up over the years. Uncle Benji was able to spot the similarities to some in the United States. He asked his nephew to stop at one on the way home.

As they waited, Uncle Benji’s mind began to focus on the time when he and countless other Guyanese were, in many ways, basically reduced to beggars with regard to food. He remembered when basic items such as flour, split peas (dholl), potato, sardines and other canned stuff, onion and garlic, apples and grapes were banned. Possession of these items was a crime, and carried jail time! Ordinary Guyanese were left with little or no choice for food.

The few who were fortunate to have access to any piece of land were basically confined to a diet of plantain and ground provision of either eddoe, cassava, dasheen, yam or sweet potato. Some took the opportunity to grow legumes and vegetables. For Uncle Benji and the rest of the populace, the unavailability of flour was an inhumane act beyond logical comprehension. What it meant was that wheat-flour bread became extinct. If caught with a piece of bread, one could have landed in jail!

In addition, the many thousands whose staple was roti were forced to quickly acquire a different taste. Workers who were in the fields by 05:00hrs were immensely affected. It wasn’t easy to adjust to provision in the wee hours of the morning. Many couldn’t, and others never did. This was compounded by the sudden lack of flavour, since basic seasoning ingredients like onion and garlic were prohibited. No longer was it possible to have a quick meal of bread and sardine. No longer was a savoury meal of dholl and roti possible.

Then, and even now, Uncle Benji could not fathom the harsh reality that someone could have been jailed for eating dholl and roti, or sardine and bread! He remembered the pain, which still cannot be erased from his mind, of seeing his children crying for basic food, as they struggled to psychologically adjust their digestive system to metabolise the provision they were unaccustomed to. He remembered the frequent pangs of hunger he and his family were forced to endure then.

Uncle Benji remembers almost vividly, not only the unconscionable circumstances Guyanese were forced into then, due to the heartless ban on basic food items, but what subsequently followed in relation to acquiring daily dietary supplements. He remembered the long lines in the sweltering heat to purchase whatever else was available for basic survival. He remembered many families using scarce financial resources to purchase a little extra oil and salt, since these, together with rice, became an acquired taste in homes.

He remembered that there was a line for everything: Lines to purchase kerosene; lines for soap; lines for gasoline; even lines for waiting to join other lines. He remembered the many injuries some were inflicted with as a result of the daily jostling in the many lines. He remembered the blatant disrespect shown by those who were anointed with authority in managing the outlets. They gleefully invited in their friends, who were blessed with the distinct honour of not having to join the long lines like the lesser mortals. These chosen few were in possession of a ‘green card’; proof of membership of the then ruling Party.

When that fortunate bunch was finished, after taking their leisurely time, those who had queued up for hours were then afforded the opportunity of jostling to enter. Very often, closing time wasn’t far behind, and many left empty-handed, with the only option of returning the next day to start all over. He remembered the many fathers who returned home without food, and having to face their wives and children. It was like torture. The KSIs were never about knowledge; it was more like ‘Kicks Shared Inhumanely’. He remembered the introduction of the much-touted rice flour, which led to nutritional deficiencies. He never understood how rice flour could have been a contemplated substitute for wheat flour.

Many families, including his, were forced to use this ill-advised substitute, the so-called roti and bread of which crumbled while moving from plate to mouth. He remembered the brave hucksters who risked everything in trying to import small quantities of wheat flour. He remembered the dire consequences they paid when caught. He is thankful that those days are long over, and that Ryan and others today wouldn’t have to endure such harsh punishment. Indeed, dis time nah lang time in Guyana. A smile broadens his face as Ryan calls out to him.

He was now conscious that he was lost in time for a period. The waiter was placing the orders on the table. He looked at the small quantity he requested and thought, “What de hell? Meh never had de opportunity fuh savour fancy food in Guyana. Ah gon have a splurge.”
He said to the waiter, “Sir, geh yuh notebook. Ah changing meh order. Nephew, is dah ok with yuh?”
To be continued on Wednesday…