Tales from way back when…
Never assess a man by his looks

LOOKING AT Ramnarine standing in the dock before Magistrate Guy Sharples, you would not have given a penny for him. He looked as grimy and as dirty as a beggar.

But Ramnarine is no beggar. The fact that his face was covered with several days’ growth of beard did not mean that he could not afford the price of a shave.

His untidy khaki shirt and pants were those of a labourer, but that was surely not the limit of Ramnarine’s wardrobe.

And the fact that he wore a pair of old brown yachting boots was most probably due to the fact that he found these a more comfortable wear.

For despite Ramnarine’s beggarly appearance, he is a man with a bank account.

And it was because of the fact that Ramnarine is a man with savings, that he found himself before Magistrate Sharples yesterday morning.

Rammnarine, it would appear, had gone to the G.P.O. to withdraw some money from his banking account… just $150 to tide him over.

And it seems that the clerks there attempted to push him around, or at least, that is how he interpreted it.

Now Ramnarine was not going to stand for that kind of nonsense.

He was not begging anyone for the money. It was his, and he had only given them it to keep for him.

If the G.P.O. did not want to do business with him, he stormed, then he was prepared to take his business elsewhere.

And then he announced that he was going to withdraw his money from the bank. “Ah want all me so and so money in the bank,” Ramnarine stormed. “Ah must get me so and so money.”

Naturally, Ramnarine caused quite a stir in the busy Post Office, and the cops were sent for.

Yesterday morning, however, Ramnarine was not admitting that he had used indecent language. He told Mr. Sharples that he was not guilty of any offence. He had merely asked that he be given his money, and that was all.

So the policeman who had arrested the ‘banker’ went into the witness stand and related how he had heard Ramnarine at the top of his voice calling for his money.

“Ah want me so and so money,” the Constable said Ramnarine shouted.

“He lie!” Ramnarine called back from the dock, but Magistrate Sharples paid no attention to him.

“You want to ask the Constable any questions?” Mr. Sharples asked Ramnarine.

“When you went in, what I told you?” was Ram’s first question.

“Nothing,” answered the cop.

“Nothing?” demanded Ramnarine. “Ah told you ah want to draw money,” he corrected the constable. And then he changed his mind about questioning the Constable any further, and trailed off into making a statement to the Magistrate.

“He hold me and push me right out inside the car,” the lanky Ramnarine complained to Mr. Sharples.

“Ah sign a paper fuh draw $150, and the bank book deh now at the Post Office.”

“I hope so,” commented Mr.  Sharples. “Do you want to give evidence from the box?” he asked him.

Ramnarine wanted to give evidence, he said, and he climbed out of the dock and made his way to the box, his untied boots slip-slapping as he went along.

“Ah come from No. 1 Canal,” he told Mr. Sharples. “In the morning, I went to the Post Office and told the clerk that ah want to draw $150. He gie me ah paper, and ah sign it and ah han he back and the bank book. Then ah went out…

“When ah go back fuh me money, I ent get it…” he related.

“So ah tell he leh me get all me money out, an ah gun take it to the bank… but ah use no expression, sah,” he finished.

“So the Police Constable make it up,” observed Mr. Sharples.

“He definitely make it up,” Ramnarine agreed.

“And you never knew this Policeman before?” asked Mr. Sharples.

Ramnarine, who sensed the significance of the question, paused before answering, but in the end, he had to admit that the cop was a stranger to him.

“Were you drinking?” Mr. Sharples wanted to know.

“Yes, Sah… ah had two beers for the morning,” Ramnaine  admitted. “But dat is all.”

“Do you have any witnesses?” asked Mr. Sharples, as Ramnarine slip-slapped back to the dock.

“De paper and de bank book is de only witness,” Ramnarine replied.

“Well, why come here and waste the court’s time with your foolishness,” demanded Mr. Sharples. “You seem to think that Magistrates are fools. The Policeman never saw you before in his life, and you want me to believe that he has come here to lie on you?”

“He lie, Sah,” Ramnarine maintained.

“You didn’t want to stand in line at the Post Office like all the others,” continued Mr. Sharples. “You had to go and drink, and when you returned, you expected that the clerks must all jump and attend Lord Ramnarine.

Ramnarine did not object to the honour conferred on him.

But it was an honour that did not last long.

“$35,” announced Mr. Sharples. “I hope the bank book is strong,” he added.
(Clifford Stanley can be reached to discuss the foregoing article at cliffantony@gmail.com or by telephone: 657-2043)