THE coast of Demerara grew before it earned the right to be called a city through the planters’ quest to broaden their coffers. It was the white man’s dream that became the black man’s burden.
The city that came after was part of the natural evolution of that process of civilising the wild coast towards a ‘tangible and intangible heritage’; towards places in urban legend where ancient spirits were said to gather, like the once famous ‘Conversation Tree’ that so many citizens have vowed to have passed small gatherings there, only with passing to look back and see empty space, except for the guardian tree that used to be there.

The Venn Sugar Commission of 1948 estimated that each square mile of cane cultivation involved the provision of 49 miles of drainage canals and ditches, and 16 miles of higher-level waterways used for transportation and irrigation. The commissioners noted that the original construction of these waterways must have entailed moving at least 100 million tons of soil. This meant that the enslaved moved 100 million tons of heavy water-logged clay with shovels and cutlasses in hand. While enduring conditions of perpetual mud and water, no doubt can repress the added fact of facing the retaliation of disrupted animals, some of them venomous and others large enough to sever limbs, while others, though small in size, were equally dangerous. One possible small advantage may have been with the West African enslaved. Was it possible to have had a common familiarity with creatures here, with similarities of creatures in Africa? Because the two continents were once of a common origin. Though farfetched, this may have some substance.

The idea of exploiting new plantation grounds was initiated by the Dutch Governor, Laurens Storm van’s Gravesande, who, in the 174Os, invited English planters into Essequibo. His son became the Commander of Demerara, which led to the mentioned civilising of the coast of Demerara to accommodate plantations and eventually a significant port town. This replaced the previous capital of the slave plantation settlement on the island of Borsselen, named after the Stadtholder’s representative in the Dutch West India Company, van Borssel van der Hodge, according to James Rodway. The island capital was nothing more than Amerindian troolie benabs. This was conveniently chosen to appease the first commander who owned Plantation Soesdyke.

The sleepy Dutch woke up when some English Privateers (bordering on pirates) entered the Demerara River, causing great concern for all, including the Borssenlen occupants, who ran into the forests with their womenfolk, etc. This event motivated the abandoning of Borsseselen Island and the move towards building defences by taking more land from the sea, thus the slow creation of Stabroek. The Dutch built the ‘Brandwagt’ in 1748. It was described as a small wooden fort manned by a sergeant and five soldiers, and armed with swivel guns that could be loaded with nails or stones. It was, however, conceived as useless and not able to stop even one ship. But when the plantations began to stretch towards the mouth of the river, a strip of land, including the site of the Brandwagt, was reserved by the Dutch West India Company to become definitely the site of the administrative ward of Stabroek.

But it was not the Dutch or the English who envisioned the anatomy of the Township of Stabroek. A French captain of a squadron of French ships landed in February 1782, and the British occupying force could not respond in defence. So the French occupied, destroying the British ‘Fort St. George’. Its captain made the profound statement, “It is considered necessary, on account of the great extent of the river and its dependencies, to establish a Capital, which would become a business centre, where religion would have a temple, justice a palace, war its arsenals, commerce its counting houses, and industry its factories, where also the inhabitants might enjoy the advantages of social intercourse. This was, perhaps, the only example of a European colony throughout the world which had arrived at some importance without having either town or village.” We don’t know the name of this French captain, but within 100 years of his statement, all that was envisaged and lamented on had come to pass.

Defending this city and its coastal villages against the sea has always been a priority, even now in the face of global warming and the threat before us. In the post-independence era, I was not out of school when the coastal sea defences were strengthened with jetties. Again, that conversation must begin responsibly as the warning global records predict towards our interest.