Political tales
Well, I am heading into the final stretch of these articles and, hopefully, we should be finished in the next two weeks. However, you may be able to get a “hardâ or “softâ copy in the not too distant future (wink). It has been a rewarding exercise. I too learnt a lot. I hope that youâll be able to at least visit some of the places of interest here.{{more}}
For this week, I want to touch a bit on politicsâ¦.Oh oh, it is not what youâre thinking. I am not going to expound on this modern day political era, not me! However, Iâll pen some brief general observations. Politics in SVG these days is a “touchyâ affair; one has to be mindful of what one says/writes lest he or she offends someoneâ¦thatâs where we are.
We are fast becoming “colour-codedâ. I couldnât believe it when someone needed to be represented by legal counsel about two years ago and that person named who the “redâ and “yellowâ ones are, and, the ones he was avoiding, based on his political persuasion! I was dumbfounded. I would think that one would take the best counsel, regardless. Politics in SVG today has reached a certain altitude, where we appear to be forever in the “voting seasonâ. In political circles; “hateâ for some is an “insatiable passion,â which seems impossible to curb. Those are general observations; now let us turn our attention to Barrouallie a bit.
There was a time when the political season was laced with humour. I remember the days when persons were called by “namesâ and were given the “foodâ to suit. I recall a few years ago, seeing iron pots filled with green bananas and breadfruit and arranged along the streets here in Barrouallie, as one of the major parties passed through with the customary motorcade. That scenario back then evoked laughter. Then, on the reverse, I saw bundles of grass stacked and in some instances, “offered and fed,â to people at the roadside, when the other major party passed through.
Some in earlier eras remember that sometimes neighbours traded words back and forth, but when the season ended, so did the words, and everything returned to a state of normalcy. Many remember when “floors were crossedâ and how they felt betrayed by the politician in whom they had placed their confidence.
Some recall that year when the results were tied 6:6 and how they panicked and waited patiently, yet uneasily, for a decision. They remember how that year had many short-lived celebrations on both sides, only to be told that it was a false alarm several times before the real decision was made public. That year, as the rumours spread like wild fire, toilets became manâs best friend and were always occupied (know what I mean); funny, isnât it? People took their politics to heart but, in many instances, the “hypeâ ended when the political season culminated.
Back in the day, in the era of the 1930s, estate owners and business people had “more sayâ in terms of representation. Like today, songs were used by some persons to get their message across and to woo voters. I was told that there was one businessman who owned property here in Barrouallie and who tried his hands at politics, H.A. Davis was his name. Many remembered that he operated a dry goods business. Whenever he rolled into Barrouallie his song could be heard “belchingâ:
Girls, ah who yo voting for?
H.A. DAVIS
Girls, ah who yo voting for?
H.A. DAVISâ¦
There are a few others here who ventured into the field of politics and we may be able to catch up with them one of these days.
Well, we too will get off here, until next week, Godâs will.
angelic_boldeyes@yahoo.com