It has been a long time since May 2015. Long enough, I hope, for us to see that many of the people who call themselves leaders of this country, both past and present, and who feign love for Guyana are really sinister, self-interested, opportunistic, dishonest, lost men and women.
I hope it has been long enough for us to see that these failed leaders continue to put their partisan politics before people and country and that this is not a race thing. This is about power, economic and otherwise, and race-based politics has only ever been a tool for gaining and maintaining power.
Think of these kings and queens among us. They eat and drink and laugh together in their posh little bubbles. They drive around in their fancy vehicles with the world locked out, our world, and they have no idea what its like to walk the streets of Georgetown, of New Amsterdam, of Lethem, of Mabaruma, of Buxton, of Lusignan, of any village or town in this country, sweating and feeling like we do. Even if they once knew, the memory is nothing but a romanticised image added to their political armory.
These “leaders” have failed themselves and their country, our country. History will never forget and I hope that for as long as they live, they dream every night of what they’ve become – lost – and that they wake every day feeling empty, unfulfilled and knowing they will be remembered not for the good they’ve done but for what they did not have the strength and courage to do; put Guyana first.
I believe that there are still a few men and women among them, who are not drunk on power, who love this country but are so entangled in the web of partisan politics that they do not know how to use their voices without dying. To those men and women, I have only this to say: silence is worse than death. Silence means that you have been broken – bent to the will of the power hungry lost men and women – and made to be a coward.
And to those of us who walk the streets sweating and feeling, if you are lucky enough to see, it means that you will read these words and understand. But remember, silence also means death for us and our children. See, feel and speak. If we all rise against the few that hold power, what will they do? What will they do if we render their race tool impotent? They will either dance to suit us or flee and let us build a nation.