Dear Editor,

WHAT is the temperature on the ground? Only a week ago, the ruling government was still knocking on the closed door of justice, democracy tightly locked down by a caretaker administration in the midst of a deadly pandemic and, a sympathetic international community vigorously pursuing an agenda to pressure a rogue team to consent and concede to CARICOM’s creditable election recount result. A perturbed nation struggled to survive with its citizens daily attempting to stay alive by scraping the bottom of the pot, saved by nature’s abundance and preserved through a treasured grace.  Hope was slowly dying an unnatural death by a diminishing candle refusing to give up, but, undaunted, provided the weakest brightness with each fading second failing to rekindle in strength. The life span of a green light suddenly froze and its malfunction produced a sudden stop. Amber never had a chance to effectuate its yellow role because, red aggressively jumped ahead and firmly established its long awaited presence that was abated by a freak control delayed mechanism. A free-for-all traffic that continuously flowed profusely, it had no respect for the overburdened surface that was crumbling due to the wear and tear and no care for its much-needed maintenance. Sitting in traffic on the opposite side produced a sweating effect and a tolerance that was wearing thin with patience by this solid red of annoying stubbornness that was determined to agitate and aggravate the test of provocation. But the timely intervention by the saving hand of fate played a pivotal role to appease a tempered rationality and changed the direction of a one-way route to a two-way transit. The ambience of relief immediately pervaded. The loud roar of exuberance acerbated an exhausted defiance to rapidly renege any transgression. Progress forwarded with the modesty of humility to establish a controlled functionality. Only now, the tide has changed and a reverse situation has provided an air of splendor and fervor, occupying a space of anticipation and attracting a pulse for activation.

An iceberg is a large piece of freshwater ice that has broken off a glacier or an ice shelf and is floating freely in open (salt) water. Small bits of disintegrating icebergs are called “growlers” or “bergy bits”. Because the density of pure ice is about 920 kg/m3, and that of seawater about 1025 kg/m3, typically about one-tenth of the volume of an iceberg is above water (which follows from Archimede’s Principle of buoyancy). In April 1912, the majestic  RMS “Titanic “ made its maiden voyage sailing from Southampton to New York with 2224 passengers and crew. Unfortunately, in the wee hours of the morning of the 15th, it hit an iceberg and sank with over 1500 people losing their lives. The captain of the ship stood his ground, did not desert his post and sank with the ship. Many of the world’s wealthiest people were on board along with a number of immigrants. The ship was carrying life boats for only half of the amount of people on board. The new Guyana government in its infancy stage and maiden 100 days voyage has already run smack into an iceberg. As was forewarned and anticipated, all the red flags were up, but the sudden shift of the wind propelled the new government to the front and the caretaker to the back with a swift current that unavoidably dragged the ship to a sea of stumbling blocks. A preliminary medical checkup for basic health fitness is already unravelling the soundness of unhealthy records that are contaminated with diseases, disastrous and dangerous for environmental safety. No wonder the reluctance of the de facto administration to demit office and their recalcitrant behaviour to retain longevity and permanency in power. Stalling for time was so essential so that the rogues can go on a cleanup campaign. Stalling for time was instrumental so that the expense sheets were well padded for last minute adjustment, beneficial to the outgoing incumbent. But, more so, stalling for time was essential for payment deferrals so that the incoming occupiers will be saddle with this responsibility and the outgoing squatters will not inherit these liabilities. Playing for time is such an effective and strategic application tool.

As the enquiries are slowly unfolding with time and sketchy details, Guyana is being bombarded with the most horrendous, horrific and horrible discoveries that are so scary. No wonder the devastating  state of the economy, the bankruptcy, the splurging of wasteful spending, the depleted Treasury, the corruption and collusions, the humongous irregularities, the in-transparencies, the hidden contracts, the secret agreements, the illegitimate arrangements, the tremendous cover-ups, the illegal transactions, the phantom workers, the exorbitant salaries and allowances, the slimy perks, the control freaks, the broken systems, the vacuum for rules and regulations, the disregard for law and order, the convenience of intellectual avoidance, the advantage of state machinery,  the aggravation of intimidation, the warped role of bullies, the use of distortions, the unhealthiness of twisted tales, the dangerous forked tongues, the incriminating lies and deceits, the scandalous deliberations, the fraud, the barefacedness and the yet to be revealed issues.  Are the current announcements a reason for Guyanese to start weeping again or encore the “shame, shame” tune? Perhaps, this is only the tip of the iceberg, or worse, only the top of the tip of the iceberg! The submerged unknown will soon surface to welcome “Jaws.” Now tax payers know where their hard earned dollars went, who benefitted and why the small man never had a chance to be a real man. The good life was not meant for you and I because of the dictators who ensured that the depressed remained the oppressed! Regardless of political persuasion and infatuation, are you happy with what you are now finding out? Are you satisfied that your vote was for a good cause? Are you entertaining a thought of being used and abused? Are you experiencing a sense of guilty conscience? How do you feel after one week has elapsed? Sleepless nights will torment not the “big ones” but the innocent “small ones.”

Respectfully,
Jai Lall.