I READ about an effort by some Guyanese to promote Copyright Laws in Guyana on 2nd November in the Stabroek News. So, I called a few producing artistes in music, literature, and fine arts, but no one knew about it apart from what was mentioned in the newspaper publication, and the newspapers did not mention who funded it. There are good reasons for making this enquiry, believe me—there are significant reasons, but these are not to be discussed immediately.

Copyright is, for all purposes, a crucial companion of creative folk, whether they are involved in music, literature, graphic design, jewellery, architecture, clothing and accessories, or illustration. There are people out there who don’t care how many years of research and development anyone has attributed to a creative project but will attempt to steal the total rights to that tangible product while smiling with you.

We must understand that the idea you’re playing around with in your mind is not copyrightable. That idea must be developed into a physical image or document before it becomes tangible and then becomes intellectual property to the public.

What are the challenges facing the creative soul in Guyana? In most cases, this rests on the legal ability to combat copyists and the false intentions of pirates. “I can do something for you, so let me hear your music or see your art.” Then comes the praise, and following that, the “We’re buddies” pitch: “Let me have a few hours with your stuff. I’ve got a top producer in the industry with connections who’ll cut through a lot of red tape for you.”

The bottom line is that it’s you who have important work to do. Register your music, melody, and lyrics with PRS—Performing Rights Society. I’m not a musician, so check the PRS site on the web and explore what’s necessary to protect yourself before you meet any “nice” people.

I say this because I am aware of how perceptions, rather than facts, work. I had a friend who was a top local musician in the 1980s. At the height of his fame, he left Guyana. None of us knew for sure where he had gone. After a year or two, to our surprise, this brother returned—but not as the same jovial man he was. His behaviour had changed; he now leaned on a post on America Street, smiled, and talked to himself, not seeing nor acknowledging anyone in particular. Some said he had gone to Europe, Germany specifically, and that something there had stripped him of his spirit.

None of us had any idea about his experience, though there were whispers about him meeting a Guyanese who was different things at different times. Up to recently, that man was a resident here, but it’s all just talk without evidence. The possible reality is that my colleague was unprepared for an encounter that enveloped his world—one that may have promised extensive progress for his talents but was just talk. He died without sharing his story.

I experienced a publishing contract that turned sour in 2014. It took almost a year to unravel myself from its tentacles. The would-be publisher wanted me to share the copyright and to cancel the contract before its agreed expiry date. This was for something that had taken me years to develop. I rejected both requests because they were never part of our initial agreement. I’ve kept every correspondence from that experience.

The bottom line is that being talented is not all that matters. Surviving as a creative requires awareness of contracts, starting with a shared Memorandum of Understanding that outlines all intentions. Clear ownership of the creative item through a copyright certificate is crucial. Currently, one has to acquire such certificates overseas. Locally, an ISBN number can be obtained at the CARICOM centre for documents up the coast, though I’m not sure if that platform covers every area of the arts.
In closing, be aware of what you sign. If you can’t read, get a lawyer or seek advice from a seasoned talent. Rely on a literate relative if necessary, but keep in mind that it’s a jungle out there.