Unless otherwise expressly declared not to be, ALL rights to the postings in this blog are reserved by me, Richard Wm. Thomas, Five Rivers, Arouca, Trinidad and Tobago.
I don't know him, but this letter to the Editor, published in the Trinidad Newsday of July 10th 2009, gives some insight into the live and contribution of yet another unsung Trinbagonian Hero, James Ramnath, educator.
May God rest his soul and may we learn more of his evidently well-lived time on earth.
THE EDITOR: This forum is being used to announce the nomination of Mr James Ramnath (1910 – 2009) for a posthumous national award in the field of fostering community spirit, education and the national good for a period of 85 years. He has given his life to, and served his country and his fellow man in a manner that few people can and ever will.
Founding the Cumuto-Guaico Welfare Association in 1944, he motivated the members and delivered moral, financial, spiritual aid to many an institution and remained at the helm until his demise in 2009.
Similarly, his dedication to education is equally thought-provoking. He started teaching in the primary school system as a pupil-teacher in 1924, graduated from the Naparima Teachers Training College in 1932, served in many primary schools around the country until 1950 when he was appointed Principal or rather Headmaster of the Cumuto CM School. He retired in 1970 continuing to serve as Supervisor on various school boards. His formal service in the field of education is a staggering 46 years exclusive of the post-retirement years.
Multiple nominations have been made in the past to honour him but these went unheeded. It is befitting the dedication and life of James Ramnath to ensure that a national award be given to him albeit posthumous. Towards this end, I humbly seek the endorsement of the wider community via this medium.
Obviously, most Trinbagonians were too distracted by the internationally-televised Michael Jackson Memorial service to notice the passing of netball icon, Lystra Lewis, which was reported in yesterday's (July 7th 2009) Trinidad Express. (See: http://www.trinidadexpress.com/index.pl/article_sports?id=161501228)
May I here add my condolences to her family and friends, thus, also, to declare that Trinidad and Tobago is all the better because of her long and devoted contribution to sports in our neck of the woods. She deserves greater recognition from us than she got in her life; in fact, I have long held the view that her appellation, not Jean's, ought to be inscribed on the complex at the western end of Wrightson Road, port of Spain.
Thank you for your contribution, Lystra! You were a good and faithful servant to your native land. May God rest your soul!
Richard Wm. Thomas,
Five Rivers,
Arouca,
Trinidad and Tobago.
Thursday, December 11, 2008.
Might As Well Pack It In If Not Hunting In Packs.
Cannot begin unless by giving thanks to very good friend and mentor, Horace Hutchinson, who, for many years, lived in England and without whose urgings and inputs no fire would have been ignited to pen what’s herein.
May God continue to guide and bless him!
So! Here goes!
"...Rallae! Ae! Ae! Ae!
Rally round the West Indies!
Never say never!
Rallae! Ae! Ae! Ae!
Rally round the West Indies!
Now and forever!"
The year was 1998. David Michael Rudder uttered what would become the signature battlecry for West Indian cricketing warriors, ramping up from the first-given calypso war chant (to the best of my recollection), Lord Beginner's (Egbert Moore's) 1950 classic, "Victory Test Match":
"Cricket lovely Cricket,
At Lord's where I saw it;
Cricket lovely Cricket,
At Lord's where I saw it;
Yardley tried his best
But Goddard won the test.
They gave the crowd plenty fun;
Second Test and West Indies won.
With those two little pals of mine, Ramadhin and Valentine!"
Beginner strutted his stuff in an era when the West Indies by England were considered minions: England was still the Mother Country, an Empire whose majesty stretched so far and so wide that, on it, literally, the sun never set; the West Indies? A motley collection of tiny Caribbean isles, cowishly viewed by Mother England as mere grass on the open range: what's good of it only by her to be consumed, as to what she rejects, a good place on which to defecate.
But the West Indians were not grass of the open range. They were men and women. Real men and real women, deep within whose collective-Caribbean belly a fire burned. An eternal fire, ignited by the intensess of their ancestral ties.
Ties to Africa: sons and daughters of free men and women therefrom yanked and away carted, by the millions, through the dread Middle Passage. To slave. For nigh on five hundred years. Whither the Mother Country deposited them. Like cows dung do. For dung fertilizes the next crop of fodder for The Cow's quartet of insatiable bellies.
Ties to India: sons and daughters of free men and women therefrom lured and away carted, a million and a half, through the dread Kali Pani, to slave, as Indentureds, for nigh to a hundred years, whither the Mother Country deposited them. Like cows dung do. For dung fertilizes the next crop of fodder for The Cow's quartet of insatiable bellies.
Ties even to the Mother Country herself: sons and daughters of free men and women exiled therefrom and away carted, by the tens of thousands, to a different kind of slavery, as governors, civil servants, plantation owners and overseers, in whatever mosquito-infested, hurricane-beset, God-forsaken place, for hundreds of years, whither the Mother Country deposited them. Like cows dung do. For dung fertilizes the next crop of fodder for The Cow's quartet of insatiable bellies.
And because of that fire, though, within the West Indies, they maintained and were forced to maintain strict and separate social divisions, yet they all yearned for the day when, once again, they would come to be recognized by the Mother Country for their true worth: human beings, no different from their Mother Countrymen, maybe even better than them.
The separation would continue for a long, long time.
Until the Great War came.
World War Two.
For World War Two involved, for the first time, global conflict. Global conflict of two divergent ideologies regarding universal human rights pitched, the one against the other.
Freedom versus perpetual slavery.
Or so the Western propaganda machine, of which the Mother Country was a chief architect, defined it.
For her grass to absorb.
And, absorb they did.
Like any crop of fodder any cow’s dung does.
To the extent that the Grass, for a brief while, threw off its leafy robe and took on the soldier's mantle of stiff khaki and denim. In the Mother Country's war machine. Deployed. To military duty. Many in Europe. Or Africa. Fighting. Alongside blue-eyed, pale-skinned Mother Countrymen. Fixing in their gunsights and slaughtering, an enemy who, too, were nearly all blue-eyed, pale-skinned. .
Yes! The Grass were regarded as men and women! At last! Given respite. And respect. Finally!
Or, so they thought.
Brief to enjoy the respite and respect were! As soon as the Great War ended, to the former status quo the Grass was required to return. Some did. Most? Not did!
And, who would? Having been exposed, as they were, to what beyond the boundary lay? Which is what their Great-War ex-West Indies forays did.
Thus, deep within the breasts of the sons and daughters who had to the Mother Country's call with fervour rallied, the winds of the Great War to brightness had fanned the ancestral fire that, over the eons, had been waned into dim glows.
Yes!
The Mother Country's orders to "Stand down! Revert to the pre-war status quo!" morphed the ancestral fire into a fully-raging flame. But, though the West Indian spirit’s gestation the Great War had ended, yet it was just waiting on the water bag's rupture for to burst forth from the womb.
Despite all this, The Cow refused to accept, refused to look at, the natives of her colonies as her peers, even though, because of the British Nationality Act of 1948, they were all her "loyal British subjects". Her citizens! (http://www.uniset.ca/naty/BNA1948.htm)
The Act was introduced as a mechanism to jumpstart the Mother country's economy, by removing restrictions to immigration from her colonies, thus allowing her the unbridled access to labour resources vitally-required after the human devastation of the Great War.
Hence, the Grass quickly grasped that, because of that Act, they were entitled to go live.
In The Cow's stall. With the Cow herself! No one could stop them.
So, they left for Mother England, the Grass did.
But, not like blades of grass went they.
Rather, like real cows: in droves.
In ships.
Like the Windrush.
West Indian UK immigrants aboard The Windrush, circa 1950
And, too, fired up by hope went they all to the Mother Country. Hope that, within that stall, solely by dint of sheer application and effort would they be able to make their Mother embrace them with respect, if not, love. According to Wikipedia:
"...The ship Empire Windrush brought the first group of 492 immigrants to Tilbury, near London, on 22 June 1948. The Windrush was en route from Australia to England via the Atlantic, docking in Kingston, Jamaica. An advertisement had appeared in a Jamaican newspaper offering cheap transport on the ship for anybody who wanted to come and work in the UK. The arrivals were temporarily housed in the Clapham Southdeep shelter, in southwest London, less than a mile away from Coldharbour Lane in Brixton. Many only intended to stay in Britain for a few years and, although a number returned to the Caribbean..., the majority remained to settle permanently.
That's how Beginner came to be in England when The Cow was bearded at the Lord's den in June 1950.
The bearding was completed when Frank Worrell scalped the last English wicket. Johnny Wardle. Out! Leg before wicket! Victory for the West Indies! West Indies! And by over three hundred runs!
The bearding was a seminal event, for the as-yet-improperly-settled community of West Indian immigrants had, by then and, to their dismay, learnt that, if you were black, life in good old Mother England was not all that it was cracked up to be. Sheer application and effort turned out not to be the real vehicles via which to be accepted as peers. Something more was needed. An innate patriotic pride. Similar to the Welsh or the Irish, who, too, were Mother Countrymen, but who wore their ancestral roots with undeniable swagger.
Something more was needed.
When Wardle walked, West-Indian wittiness willingly whipped-up whimsical words witnessing what when where.
"Cricket lovely Cricket,
At Lord's where I saw it;
Cricket lovely Cricket,
At Lord's where I saw it;
Yardley tried his best
But Goddard won the test.
They gave the crowd plenty fun;
Second Test and West Indies won.
With those two little pals of mine, Ramadhin and Valentine!"
However, it would be several years before the full import of "what when where" was properly described. And it took one of the finest West Indian minds to do it: Cyril Lionel Robert James. CLR fingered it by saying that West Indian independence and national consciousness would not be shaped until they had beaten England at home at the game they had invented. Until the water bag’s rupture.
Which is what that 1950 West Indian cricket team inspired, that day, at Lord's. That day, when “Cricket! Lovely cricket!” became the vehicle which put the spring in the native West Indian step. A step that jauntier grew every time the West Indies cricket team won. Or shone. Regardless of its opponent.
No other West Indian event takes place that makes so many West Indians, wherever they be, to concentrate with as much unity of focus. To shed tears of exhilaration with such camaraderie. As on that June day at Lord's, in 1950.
Or that February day in Kingston, in 1958, when Garfield St. Auburn Sobers wielded his willow blade deftly, savagely, disdainfully, mercilessly, to smite his way into the Test batting record books: 365 not out.
Or that December day, Down Under, in 1960, when, for the first time ever, a test Match was tied, as Joe Solomon, one hundred feet from the wicket, with one stump at which to aim, ran out Ian Meckiff by a whisker.
Or that day in Bridgetown, in March 1981, when Michael "Whispering Death" Holding, in six breathtaking torpedoes, bewitched, then bothered, then bewildered, then bowled the best that Britannia till then, or after, has had by way of opener: Geoff Boycott; and for a duck.
Or that January day, Down Under, in 1993, when Brian Charles Lara would rapier his way to his first Test century, a double at that: 277, run out.
Or that day, in St. John's, in 1994, when Brian Charles Lara, again, would blaze a century, this time, a triple, to clinch Sobers's record: 375.
Or that April day, in St. John's, again, ten years later, when Brian Charles Lara, again, would ballet a century, again, only this one a quadruple, the first and only ever in Test cricket, to retake possession, for the West Indies, of the highest test score accolade that, mere weeks before, Matthew Hayden from the Land Down Under had, from their grasp, wrested. Ah, yes! To shed tears of exhilaration with such camaraderie.
Or, to shed tears, of depression and damnation, in such unison. As seems to be the case, more often, than not, over the past twelve years.
No other West Indian event takes place that makes so many West Indians, wherever they be, to concentrate with as much unity of focus. None!
Perhaps, then, the only logical explanation for the too-long-ongoing run of sub-par performances by the West Indies cricket teams lies in the fact that there is no present selector who understands what cricket really means to the West Indies?
How did CLR James derisively put it? "What do they know of cricket who only cricket know?"
Which can, another way put can be: “How can anyone get a comprehensive view of anything, except by employing vision that transcends 2-d?”
The question is posed having regard to the woeful inadequacies, by its composition, of what, too often, of late, has been put forward as "the team to represent the West Indies".
One such inadequacy is the glaring, (wilful?), selectorial ignorance of the hunting-in-packs principle. Principle which informs that all the great sporting teams are built around a fluctuating nucleus of players who came from either the same village, town, district or club.
Who, within their own basic subset, got to know each other so well that communication among them bordered on esotericism. They could signal to the other when how to move or not, where to position themselves on the field or not.
Without signalling.
The one would know when to shield the others; and vice versa.
Without being asked.
And, if asked, greedlessly agreed.
Consider the finest example of such a pack: Worrell, Walcott, Weekes. The Three Ws! Barbadians all! How mightily they strode. If one failed, the two others more than made up for him. If two failed, which was very rare indeed, then, beware of the one remaining: he surely would come at you with the guile and fury of all hell let loose.
If, perchance, all three failed, then the rest of the batsmen knew just what they had to do, or else!
As example of the depth of fellowship amongst them, Horace told of the time when Everton Weekes was being sorely bothered by the wily spin of an English bowler in one of the several county matches played during the famous 1950 series.
Horace got the story from his good buddy, Lance Pierre.
While Weekes faced, Worrell was fiddling. At the other end. So disturbed was Weekes by the Englishman’s guile, but, so intent that he must not be allowed to get the better of him, that, soon enough, Weekes, sotto voce, asked Worrell to face the bowling for a while, “So I could get a good look at him.”
Worrell at once acceded.
Then, after a couple of overs of the thus-conspired Weekesly avoidance, Weekes said, “Okay Frank! That’s enough! I’ve got it! Let me at him now!”
And, at him he did.
So savagely that the Englishman had to run. For cover!
Beyond the Three Ws, the hunting-in-packs tradition continued with Jamaica, for a while, then Guyana, then the Leeward Islands. And, every time, it worked.
That was what hunting-in-packs means. .
Now what? No such thing! In fact, nothing! Why?
No answers.
Which is so strange, when, of the presently-available crop, both Trinidad and Tobago and Guyana have the goods to provide the much-needed fillip. Trinidad, with the fearsome Four-D foursome of Daren Ganga, Dwayne Bravo, Dinesh Ramdin and Dave Mohammed.
This quartet is the core of the immensely-successful Trinidad and Tobago cricket teams that have been winning and winning and winning.
Daren Ganga is the ideal foil. À la Larry Gomes. To be used in the middle, rather than as an opener. He has tremendous powers of concentration and his technique is far superior to everyone else on the current landscape.
Plus, as a captain, his talent is self-evident: outstandingly shrewd.
Yet, Ganga and Mohammed are not fixtures on the team! Why?
Guyana, with the powerful batting threesome of Sewnarine Chattergoon, Ramnarace Sarwan and Shivnarine Chanderpaul.
Chattergoon and Chanderpaul have demonstrated, over and over again, that they can bat forever.
Yet, Chattergoon is not a fixture on the Test team! Why?
Another inadequacy is the absence of a middle-of-the-order batsmen who could bat for a day, or, plus a half, two days, if necessary, who remains cool, serene, collected. Holding it together as, if, when, wickets fell. Shielding and farming. To staunch continued destruction. Grafting. To keep ticking the scoreboard.
No doubt one of the greatest such was Hilary "Larry" Angelo Gomes. The man from Arima. The “Mister. Dependable”. As Tony Cozier would say. .
Of Gomes, Bob Simpson’s words in paraphrase:
“Gomes’s value in a team and a player of his unflappable style is sorely missing from the nowadays West Indies teams. Though it’s tempting to say Chanderpaul many times has had to play that role. But Chanderpaul elsewhere in the line-up is needed, as shall shortly be seen. The Gomesian role is specialist middle order: the glue that holds the innings together, keep it tight and frustrate the opposition when things go wrong.” (http://www.sportstaronnet.com/tss2528/25280620.htm)
Since left-handed Larry left, nobody has been allowed an extended run in the middle by the West Indian selectors. For reasons already given, Daren Ganga is the obvious one to fill that breach.
Yet, Ganga is not a fixture on the Test team! Why?
"What do they know of cricket who only cricket know?"
Which can, another way put can be: “How can anyone get a comprehensive view of anything, except by employing vision that transcends 2-D?”
Time, therefore, to fix it that the right vision is in place!
With the right vision, current West Indian Test cricket selectors would shy away from 2-D and, instead, opt for a 4-D team: Daren. Dinesh. Dwayne. Dave.
And regain cricketing mastery with three esses: Shivnarine. Sarwan. Sewnarine.
Around that foursome and that threesome, combined, a fulsome West Indies cricket team must be built. If any hope of regaining the ascendancy is to be had.
Accordingly, the following recommendation is made as to what the West Indies Test cricket team must be:
1.Chris Gayle
2.Sewnarine Chattergoon
3.Ramnarace Sarwan
4.Shivnarine Chanderpaul
5.Darren Ganga
6.Dwayne Bravo
7.Dinesh Ramdin
8.Dave Mohammed
9.Jerome Taylor
10.Darren Powell
11.Fidel Edwards
To the foreseeable future, CETERIS PARIBUS (which, in this context, means: for as long as the individuals who, above, are proposed, are all fit and raring-to-go), any else West Indies cricket team a patsy shall be.
(From God we came and, unto God, we shall, all, return!)
Allow me, firstly, to relay my family's deepest condolences on the death of Waldo Everett Nunez, Senior, of Mayfield Road, Valsayn, Trinidad and Tobago.
That he was the father of presently-embattled Finance Minister, Karen Nunez-Tesheira, is of no relevance to those sentiments; instead, that he was a good friend of my deceased father and father to several of my contemporaries at St. Mary's College are the germane issues.
Allow me, next, to say the following few words to highlight, as best I know them- certain noteworthy facts of the life of Waldo Everett Nunez Sr., for too many of our sons and daughters depart our company their story untold, or, worse yet, not shared by those who know it.
By any stretch of the imagination, Waldo Everett Nunez Sr. did make a very worthwhile contribution to the positive development of this country, as may be evidenced by his own career and by the outstanding academic and professional accomplishments of every one of his children -world-renowned doctors, attorneys and authors.
The timing of Waldo Everett Nunez Sr.'s birth was prescient of that when, eventually, he would die, for he entered this world in the midst of international turbulence -on November 2, 1914, not long after World War One began- and departed ninety-four years later, on March 19th 2009 -when international turbulence of a similarly-catastrophic sort was taking place.
Nunez Sr. came from a large family -there were ten others besides him. His parents were Albert and Georgiana Nunez. Like his birth, the size of his family was prescient, too, of the fact he, too, would sire a large family -eleven children -Yolande Aqui, Richard Nunez, Dr. Elizabeth Nunez, Dr. David Nunez, Jacqueline Astaphan, Waldo Nunez Jr, Mary Nunez-Kerry -she's married to a one-time business associate of mine, Trevor Augustine Kerry- Dr. Gregory Nunez, Nunez-Tesheira, Dr. Roger Nunez and Judith Viera.
Twice a husband -he married Una Arneaud after the 1946 death of his first wife, Denise Lange- throughout he was a devoted father and provider for his family. Una Nunez predeceased him by less than a year -she passed away on August 24th 2008.
He joined the Trinidad and Tobago Public Service -it was then called the "Civil Service"- straight after completing his academic studies and specialized in Industrial Relations. That he was more than good in his chosen field is evident from the strides he made in his chosen career, for he quickly rose through the ranks, eventually attaining the high office of Commissioner of Labour.
But, in those days, the remuneration packages of public servants didn't hold much allure, at least not to those who possessed the training, expertise and experience always sought after by the private sector, so there was constant bleeding of the best and brightest away from the former to the latter. It came as no surprise then that Waldo Sr. would leave the civil service behind and opt for the greener pastures of Shell Trinidad as that oil company's Personnel and Industrial Relations Manager.
There's this thing about the private sector which mystifyingly evades the public service -the brightest and best are readily given room to grow, to evolve into leadership role. Where Waldo Sr. was concerned, Shell Trinidad lived up to that expectation, for it appointed him to its Board. In so doing, history was made, for never before was there a son or daughter of Trinbago hold such a seat.
Trade Union leaders in the fossil-fuel sector all agree that when they had to deal with Waldo Everett Nunez Sr. they knew they had to be well-prepared, to to their homework, for he was no mean negotiator.
They knew, too, that he was fair. That's why current Opposition Leader, Honourable Basdeo Panday -who, before going on, himself, to head up the All Trinidad Sugar and General Workers' Union, was the Research Officer at one of those unions, The Oilfield Workers Trade Union- did not hesitate to extend his personal condolences and prayers to the Nunez family on the passing of its patriarch.
Industrial relations was not just Nunez Sr.'s forte, but also -perhaps, moreso- his true love. That's why he was so successful as a husband, father and mentor to many.
That's why, also, no eyebrows were raised when he hung up a shingle to announce his embarking on a new post-retirement-from-Shell-Trinidad journey as Industrial Relations consultant for hire. Many flocked to his office for advice and guidance, including the unions who were on the opposing side when he sat at the Shell Trinidad table.
Maybe the fear of him offering his astute advice to such trade unions during one of the most turbulent periods in Trinbago's history -the Black Power upheavals- is what prompted Trinidad and Tobago's Employers’ Consultative Association (ECA) to invite him to be their President? Who knows?
For the root of the 1969-1970 Black Power upheavals was firmly anchored in the longsuffering of native Trinbagonians, especially those of dark hue, who, though comprising the overwhelming majority of the population, were never allowed to control "the commanding heights of the economy" -as Dr. Eric Eustace Williams so succinctly put it in one of his famous speeches consequent upon those very upheavals.
Back then, Trinbago's trade unionists were not pusillanimous men and women as, by and large, trade unionists of today are. Oh no! They were men and women who led from the front, within whose bellies blazed an adamant fire for seeking social uplift of workers conditions.
Thus, they were regarded by the privileged class as radicals, Communists and anarchists. Thus, naturally, it was they who were to be found at the forefront of the Black Power struggles in Trinidad and Tobago in 1969-1970!
Like I said, maybe the fear of him offering his astute advice to such trade unions during one of the most turbulent periods in Trinbago's history -the Black Power upheavals- is what prompted the ECA to invite him to be their President? Who knows?
What we do know is that the records will show that, indeed, he was installed as its President only for that critical juncture, in 1970 and 1971 and that after the open conflagration was quelled, he never resumed the top post, rather, remained with the ECA as a mere board member.
Over the years, having had personal dealings with him, I was never left with any other impression than that he was a gentleman, had a short fuse for nonsensical behaviour in others and was a gentle yet firm disciplinarian and a good provider for his family.
Waldo Everett Nunez Sr.'s life example, therefore, is one well-worth following and, so, here, I commend it to all.
Now, as he goes to join his beloveds -Denise and Una- may his soul and the souls of every departed one find everlasting peace as they rest.
And may his immediate family take comfort in the knowledge that such invocations are normally accorded those who well and faithfully served their fellow man.
"(Waldo Nunez Sr.'s) funeral took place yesterday at the Lady of Fatima RC Church at Bushe Street, Curepe where Nunez-Tesheira's children, siblings as well as her loved ones and family friends were in attendance...
Nunez-Tesheira's sister Yolande Aqui, delivered the eulogy while her brother Roger Nunez spoke of their father in glowing terms, saying he was a man who was never good at expression of emotion, but, his actions in life left no doubt.
Christopher Hunte described his grandfather as a person who exemplified qualities of honesty, integrity and kindness who gave generously and enjoyed life"
Also, a friend, Martin, was kind enough to email me the following, which is the eulogy, as printed on the funerary programme:
"Waldo Everett Nunez was the beloved husband of Una Magdelena Nunez, nee Arneaud, who left this life seven months ago, on August 24,2008. They were the parents of eleven children: YolandeAqui, Richard Nunez, Elizabeth Nunez, David Nunez, Jacqueline Astaphan, Waldo Nunez, Mary Nunez Kerry, Gregory Nunez, Karen Nunez Tesheira, Roger Nunez and Judith Veira.
Waldo and Una were the beloved grandparents of Nicole, Sandra, Paula, Simon, Nadine, Lorraine, Gail, Haniah, Jason, Maxine, Stacy, David, Dania, j Dominique, Nigel,Tracy, Juenesse, Jesse, Gregory, Elan, Christopher, ,Nicola, Regan, Simone, Paige and Cristine, and great-grandparents to seventeen children.
Their daughters-and sons-in-law were devoted to them equally and loved them dearly.
With his dear wife, Una, Waldo had friends, too numerous to mention here, whom they both loved and who loved them dearly. To the end of both their lives, their housekeeper, Petra, was a devoted companion who cared for them ' with a generous heart. Ali was their loyal gardener for 30 years.
How can one write the story of the life Waldo Everett Nunez, a man loved, respected and admired by so many?
First and foremost he was Una's husband. He loved her with a passion that knew no bounds. For sixty-five years Waldo and Una remained devoted to each other and now, after a brief parting of seven months, they are together again for all eternity in heaven.
Waldo loved his eleven children with equal intensity. There was nothing he had that he was not willing to give to them or to share with them. Even when his children were adults, quite capable of taking care of themselves, Waldo would always reassure them that if there was anything they needed that he was capable of giving to them, they had only to say the word.
Waldo believed intensely in the importance of family life. No matter how busy he was at work, when his children were young, he found time every day to have breakfast, lunch and dinner with them. No matter his resources, three times a year he would find a way to take his children to the countryside for the Christmas, Easter and August holidays. He believed that these times, when his children were together with him and his wife, away from their usual activities, were important times for instilling in them the values and ideals he held dear.
Waldo was generous man with a huge heart. There were children in the orphanage who knew him by name because of his kindness to them; there were countless families who were beneficiaries of his monetary gifts. He never asked for anything in return; he never asked for acknowledgement.
Waldo loved life.
In his last years, he often repeated his gratitude for having such a full and happy life. For years, he hunted many of the forests in Trinidad and his children learned to acquire a taste for wild meat. He was also an avid fisherman, fishing for sport, but also to feed his family and neighbours in hard times.
He loved to dance. He was the first one on the dance floor and the last to leave. He loved a good joke, even a silly one, and he himself had a witty sense of humour that would often leave him chuckling mischievously at his own jokes. His favourite section of the newspapers was the comic strip, and he would fight his children to be the first to read it.
Waldo was a genius, there is no doubt. Few could compete with him in the sciences at St. Mary's College, or in the Industrial Court when he argued a case.
He began his career as a chemist, but soon went into the Ministry of Labour under the colonial government, rising to Commissioner of Labour. He later joined the Shell Oil Company as their Personnel Manager and ended his years there as Director and then Administrative Manager of the company. Until he was in his eighties, Waldo was kept on retainer by several companies for his superior knowledge of labour relations. Indeed, there were times when he represented both the private and public sector at the International Labour Conference in Geneva, Switzerland.
Waldo was an honourable man who led a life of integrity and commitment to the principles of honesty, generosity and kindness. He used to say that every night when he put his head on his pillow he wanted to make sure he had hurt no one; he had done no wrong; he had maintained his integrity no matter the price. He had an unwavering sense of justice and fairness that extended to the smallest things. His parish priest tells the story that when Waldo was very advanced in years, he came to him to unburden a sorrow he had carried in his heart. Waldo said that in his hunting years he had shot an agouti that had managed to run away bleeding. He told the parish priest that for years he could not remove that image of the suffering agouti from his mind. He felt guilty for having hurt it and found it impossible to hunt again.
That was Waldo: Una's husband, a loving and devoted father to his children, a good friend, a man of integrity, a man of honor, a genius.
Waldo loved God and was a faithful member of Our Lady of Fatima Roman Catholic Church where he and his wife were communicants. Una must have got tired of waiting for him. She asked God to bring him home to her and her request was granted. We will miss our father who we all adored."
UPDATE 2: What Ferdie Ferreira had to say on March 26th 2009:
"...Waldo Nunez was one of a long list of distinguished public servants who pioneered the successful transition of our Government from Colonialism to Independence.
Coming from a family that produced many distinguished public servants, Waldo himself retired as Commissioner of Labour shortly before he was due for promotion to the prestigious position of Permanent Secretary, a position later achieved by two of his younger brothers John and Euan. Another younger brother Capt Mervyn Nunez and a couple of his sons, Waldo’s nephews, served BWIA now Caribbean Airlines for many, many years as airline pilots. His daughter’s involvement/commitment to public life was therefore no surprise to those of us who knew the family’s history and their commitment and dedication to public service.
Waldo came out of a generation of national patriots who knew and understood only too well that public service meant loyalty to the Government, respect and obedience to the laws of the land and by extension service to the people who paid their salaries, small as they were in those days..."
Ay de mi! Ay de mi!The Trinidad Newsday stands guilty of fudging.
You see, having forwarded my TrinbagonianHeroes.com blog story -Amrit Sharma: What a Goldmind looks like.- to Amrit himself -it dealt with a March 15th 2009, Trinidad Newsday, story about him- I was aghast to receive an email reply, protesting his ignorance of any interview with the Newsday -recent or whenever!
A brief flurry of emails were then exchanged, at the end of which it was quite clear that the Newsday reporter in question -Seeta Persad- had allowed her zeal to get the better of her. But, don't take my word: let the below excerpt from the record speak!
from: Amrit Sharma to: kid5rivers & Suzanne Bhagan (of The Trinidad Guardian...she had written >>this piece<<> date15 March 2009 20:07 subject: Re: Newsday editorial
Dear Suzanne and Richard, I have mentioned both of you in a letter that I wrote to the editor of the Trinidad Newsday. I have included the entire content of the letter below for your convenience. I hope that this is okay, but I think that it's worth mentioning good examples of Trinidadian journalists when dealing with poor journalistic standards. I hope that you are both doing well, Amrit. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Amrit Sharma, MEng, ACGI, MIET, MIEEE, Researcher in Controls and Signal Processing, Imperial College London SW7 2AZ. Email: amrit.sharma@imperial.ac.uk Webpage: http://www3.imperial.ac.uk/people/amrit.sharma02
Letter to Trinidad Newsday: Dear Editor,
After reading the article on Amrit Sharma (me) by Seeta Persad inyesterday's newspaper, I not only became disappointed but more sodisheartened. My story, as reported by accurate journalists in the pastlike Suzanne Bhagan and Richard Thomas, tells a story of someone whostrives for excellence and appreciates the merits of hard work. Boththose reporters impressed me because their articles were not only wellwritten but were honest and truthful - unlike Seeta Persad's articlefrom your newspaper. Seeta Persad never bothered to interview me butinstead decided to fabricate an interview and mislead the public. Thevery first sentences of her article were plagiarized from anothernewsletter and moreover she misrepresented me. How can an author writean article about excellence when she takes short-cuts and demonstratespoor journalistic standards? How can someone be so cavalier in attributing qualities to me without consulting me? I understand thatyour reporter may have had more altruistic intentions of motivating thepublic but this could have been done in a more sincere, honest andprofessional way.
After reading the article I must pose a simplequestion: Is the Trinidad Newsday a serious newspaper that reliablyinforms the reader or is it simply a tabloid? Kind regards, AmritSharma.
Ay de mi! Ay de mi! Apart from saying, "Hear! Hear!" to Amrit and that maybe they overlooked that the man's specialty is in Controls and Signals Processing, that's all I have to or care to say to the Newsday about this.
By the way, Amrit gave his blessing for me to publicize the above, okay? And my reason for publishing it is to remind, warn and advise on the only correct course that all residents of the Fourth Estate must take in their course of work -forthrightness.
Back on May 2nd 2008, Klikaytay saluted Amrit Sharma, brilliant mathematician and son of Trinidad and Tobago, over his outstanding academic accomplishments.
To correct the lack of sight- as in May 2008 I did- again I present a graphic of our illustrious son, Amrit Sharma, the Goldmind!
Looks human, doesn't he? Well, he is! But, without those thousand words, merely reading of his exploits might have induced one to think otherwise.
My prayer is that God continues to guide and bless nim and that his story and similar ones be placed where rightly they belong -EMBLAZONED ON THE FRONT PAGES of all Trinbagonian newspapers!
This started off seeming to be a simple task: to help my boy, Vimmy, to find the lyrics to a vintage calypso, one named Dan Is The Man (In The Van). Which was needed, so that somebody could learn them by heart, the better to render it in one of the many office or school calypso-singing completions held around this time of year in Trinidad and Tobago -Carnival Season.
In this case, that meant the words had to be obtained by Monday February 16, 2009, less than seventy-hours after the mayday signal was sent to me. Lawd! Dunno what I does get myself into sometimes?
I told Vimmy's mom "No probs! I have the record! Plus! I know the calypso by heart. I'll just type it out and forward it to her by email."
At the time, never imagined the whole shebang would not take more than thirty minutes. Hah! Boy! Was I wrong! Wrong because it completely slipped me that my style -once I'm online- is to browse in as voracious a manner as would a pack of hungry stray dogs let loose amongst the nightly KFC deposit at the the Beetham La Basse -sometimes I feel it's not a style, but a curse! Whatever! And 99.9% of the browsing would be directly-related to the whatever topic on which I would be dwelling -the better to develop my arguments.
Well? What do you expect?
For Vimmy's project, I soon found myself drawn -with considerable fascination- into sites that expounded on the significance of Dan Is The Man (In The Van) in the scheme of things literary and, after almost three hours of surfing, finally polishing up a synopsis to append to transcribed lyrics, all of which have since been posted in the TrinbagonianHeroes blog.
Check it out, willya? Also embedded in TrinbagonianHeroes is a YouTube video of the original version as done by the master himself -don't know why they say it's a video, it's pure audio and, it's beautiful.
Hope you appreciate it. Bless!
DAN IS THE MAN (IN THE VAN)
ANALYZING THE LYRICS.
Saturday, 14 February 2009. (Lyrics transcribed by Richard Wm. Thomas.)
The Overview (written with teenagers in mind.):
We don't need no education!
We don't need no thought control!
No dark sarcasm in the classroom!
Teacher, leave those kids alone!
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.
When Pink Floyd smashed into the UK music charts with that grating protest -on December 15, 1979, at position No. 1 if you please- the whole world noticed. Especially the younger generation, who, in short order, snapped up a million plus copies of the single from off record shop shelves.
To this day, Another Brick In The Wall remains one of the more popular songs and has sometimes been embraced by people who are engaged in some protest or the other.
Whatever! I’m however, convinced that somehow, Pink Floyd's bassist and then lead songwriter, Roger Waters was aware of something which happened in Trinidad and Tobago in 1963 and used that something as the kindling the band’s fiery 1979 Christmastime delivery. For it’s more than coincidental that the general theme of Another Brick In The Wall would be identical to the one taken by the artiste who won the Trinidad and Tobago calypso crown that year, isn’t it? What theme? That the education offered to kids was totally irrelevant to their needs and designed to keep us in ignorence -one that would all in all do nothing other than make them just another brick in the wall? Deliberate spelling there of ignorence, okay? So, leave it be! J
According to The American Heritage® New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy (Third Edition) the noun satire meansa work of literature that mocks social conventions, another work of art, or anything its author thinks ridiculous.(http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/satire)
It then identifies Gulliver's Travels, by Jonathan Swift, as an example of satire, directed at eighteenth-century British society. The same Gulliver who’s mentioned in a satirical masterpiece that, perhaps, the highly-regarded dictionary’s authors never heard -Dan Is The Man (In The Van)? Perhaps, too, they never even of the man who composed and sang it? Because, if they had, they would have been less swift to travel with Gulliver, preferring, rather, Slinger Francisco, better known as The Mighty Sparrow, the Calypso King of The World.
To me, Dan Is The Man (In The Van) is a masterpiece of satire. Sparrow let loose with it in 1963, immediately capturing the gleeful appreciation of listeners; and the Calypso King crown. While the one in the van was a fictitious character, a figment of Cutteridge’s imagination, in his second calypso –all contestants had to sing two for the Crown contest- the man was very real, for he also sang Kennedy Is The Man For Them –referring of course to then US President John F. Kennedy.
In Dan Is The Man (In The Van), Sparrow mocks the education system of 1963 Trinidad and Tobago by highlighting what he felt was the chupidness taught in primary schools. He constantly quotes word for word from the West Indian Reader, a series of reading textbooks used throughout the British West Indies for more than thirty years. West Indian Reader was written by Captain J. O. Cutteridge, who was Director of Education in Trinidad and Tobago from 1932 and 1942.
I can’t say whether Sparrow really thought that the many nursery rhymes that Cutteridge used to fill his Reader were all nonsense. They really weren’t, but, if anyone reads them literally, they really do not make sense. That’s why Sparrow stressed that he found it hard to believe that one man alone could write so muchchupidness:
Ah say, Cutteridge was plenty times more advanced dan dem scientist, I en believe dat no one man could write so much stupidness. Aeroplanes didn’ come so soon, scientists used to make de grade in balloon. Cutteridge make a cow jump over the moon!
We mustn't forget that Cutteridge wrote at a time when Trinidad and Tobago was still a British colony. And, as a colony, that meant all its activities were organized to make its rulers rich. And the only way that could happen or continue was when the rulers kept their subjects under control. And the best way to control someone is not by whips but by controlling their minds. Again, Sparrow points to this, for instance, when he sings:
De poems an’ de lessons dey write an’ sen’ from England Impress me dey were trying to cultivate comedians! Comic books made more sense: you know it’s fictitious, without pretence. Cutteridge wanted to keep us in ignorence!
I can’t say for sure if Sparrow also did not realize that Cutteridge himself didn’t compose the rhymes in his books, but was just using them, because of their comical and simple grammatical, style to help West Indian schoolchildren easily develop their reading skills.
And, where Sparrow is concerned, despite what Sparrow says -long time, people used to swear If Sparrow say so, is so!- Cutteridge seemed to have been successful in doing that, since the thing which impresses me most with Dan Is The Man (In The Van) is how, when his calypso is examined, we can’t help being amazed and proud of how well-educated he was, as is seen by the beautiful, very talented and very skillful way he uses local language to say what he wanted to say. And how straightforward and on the spot his line of reasoning is. That’s why, in the end, I’ll say that Sparrow had to have been a genius. Although he kept complaining of the pathetic education he received at the hands of Cutteridge’s books,
But Slinger Francisco also was a rebel. Most calypsonians were. The artform has its roots deep in the struggles of the enslaved Africans who struggled for more than four hundred years under the weight of slavery.
But, there’s not ever a rebel who isn’t proud that he’s a rebel. Else he wouldn’t be a rebel. So, when you listen to Sparrow’s voice as he sings Dan Is The Man (In The Van), you could almost feel his rebellious pride over his, somehow, managing to resist and get away from the colonial bosses’ attempts to brainwash him with De poems and de lessons dey write an’ send from England. He did that partly by playing dead to ketch cobo alive, as he spells out clearly when he sings:
Dey wanted to keep me down indeed, dey try dey best, but didn' succeed You see, mih head was duncee an’ up to now ah cyar read! and then: Dey beat me like ah dog to learn dat in school, If me head was bright ah woulda be a dahm fool!
Only a brilliant satirist could come up with lines like those. I could only imagine his onstage antics and expressions when he sang the calypso for a live audience back then. And wish I was there taking it all in.
Here are the lyrics!
But wait! Seeing this is written as the 2009 Carnival season comes to its peak, before I close off, let me mention this little-remembered fact: Dan Is The Man (In The Van) is also the first winning tune in the history of the Steelband Panorama Competition! Here's a lil history, then, on that:
The first Panorama Competition was held in 1963; and one of the competing steelbands was one called North Stars. North Stars was from St. James -in Kandahar area, Upper Brunton Road- and lucky to have on their side a musical genius, Anthony “Tony” Williams, or, Madman, as he was popularly known.
Now, no other arranger viewed the 1963 Panorama contest the same way that Madman did: he treated it the same way he did the Steelband Music Festival, a competition when only classical tunes were played. So it was not surprising, to North Stars players, when his band romped home by miles, for, to the dismay of the other contesting bands, Tony Williams had attacked the tasks of arranging and conducting his band the same rigourous way would have done if he was preparing it for the more sophisticated Music Festival.
Madman was not only North Stars’ pan tuner, he was also the arranger and conductor of the band and did such an outstanding job that, up to today, North Stars is regarded as one of, if not, the greatest steel orchestras there ever was. For that, finally just last year he was awarded the highest national award on Independence Day. That was the new medal named The Order of The Republic of Trinidad and Tobago, which replaced the Trinity Cross -another first! And he also was the first man to be inducted into the Steelband Movement Hall of Fame. (http://www.newsday.co.tt/news/0,85362.html)
There! Now that I'm done with mentioning the Tony-Williams-and-North-Stars tidbit, here, at last, are the lyrics to the Slinger Francisco masterpiece. I stop-start transcribed them from memory, but, too, while listening to the song playing in the background; and stayed close to the vernacular, since that’s how Sparrow sang about the man in the van, back in 1963.
(Transcribed in the vernacular, by Richard Wm. Thomas)
Captain! There's a traitor on board! Examine the horn!
According to the education you get when you small, You will grow up with true ambition and respect from one and all. But in my days in school, they teach me like a fool, The things they teach me ah should be ah block-headed mule.
And wey dey teach yuh? Dey teach mih: pussy has finished his work long ago an’ now he resting an’ ting. Solomon a Gundy was born on ah Monday, de ass in de lion skin. Winkin, Blinkin and Nod, sail off in ah wooden sloop, De ‘gouti lose he tail an’ de alligator fighting, to make monkey-liver soup! An’ Dan, is the man, in the van!
Wepsee mama!
De poems an’ de lessons dey write an’ sen’ from England Impress me dey were trying to cultivate comedians! Comic books made more sense: you know it’s fictitious, without pretence. Cutteridge wanted to keep us in ignorence!
Tell me if dis eh chupidness: Humpy-Dumpty sat on a wall! Humpy-Dumpy did fall! Goosey, Goosey Gyander? Where shall I wander? Ding, dong, del!l Pussy in de well! R-I-K-K-I-T-I-K-K-I-Ah-T-Ah-V Ah Rikki Tikki Tikki Tikki Tavi! Dan, is de man, in de van! Wepsee mama! Yep!
Ah say, Cutteridge was plenty times more advanced dan dem scientist, I en believe dat no one man could write so much stupidness. Aeroplanes didn’ come so soon, scientists used to make de grade in balloon. Cutteridge make a cow jump over the moon!
An’ then he tell dem: Tom, Tom de piper's son! Teef ah pig an’ away he run! Once dere was a woman who lived in ah shoe, She had so many children she didn' know what to do! Dickory a-dickory dock! De mouse ran up de clock! De lion and de mouse, Ah woman pushing ah cow To eat grass on top of ah house! Ah an’ Dan, is de man, in de van!
Aeyyyyyyuh! Wipsee mama!
How I happen to get some education my friends, me eh know! All dey teach me is about Beer Rabbit an’ Rumpelstilskin-o. Dey wanted to keep me down indeed, dey try dey best, but didn' succeed You see, mih head was duncee an’ up to now ah cyar read!
Who cares about: Peter, Peter was ah pumpkin eater? Some little, little people tie Gulliver? When I was sick an’ lay a-bed I had two pillow at my head? De goose lay de golden egg? De spider catch a fly? Morocoy with wings flapping in de sky? Dey beat me like ah dog to learn dat in school, If me head was bright ah woulda be a dahm fool!
With Dan is de man in de van Can a pig dance a jig for a fig? Twirly and Twisty were two screws! Mister Mike, goes to school, on a bike! Dan is de man, in de van! Dan is de man, in de van! Yeah! Dan is de man, in de van!
From about the 4:18 minute mark, the whole of the original version of Dan Is The man In The Van) can be heard in this YouTube clip posted on February 10, 2009 by Canchozi:
Time: 12:02pm, T&T time! Jolted by the richness of lilting baritone voice singing Amazing Grace at the prayer service held for US President, Barack Obama, on January 21, 2009, at The Washington National Cathedral, Washington, D.C., USA, it soon occurred to me that it had to be none other than Whitley Phipps, Trinidad and Tobago's own, who, just last year, courtesy Austin Jack Warner, returned, after many years of self-imposed exile, to give a series of scintillating performances at the Centre of Excellence and in Tobago's Shaw Park. Upon checking, indeed it was he! So, Trinidad and Tobago stands proud of being so blessed: by Whitley's talent and of having one of its own so fittingly invoke Heavenly Benediction upon the forty-fourth President of the United States of America.
Austin Jack Warner..................... Whitley Phipps
From President of the Republic, right down, every Patrick, Jerry and Harry jumping on the Jizelle Giselle Salandy bandwagon, as if to suggest to that, all along, they were there for her, that, somehow, somewhere, they, too, helped her become the brilliant star that she was.
Well! A friend, Ann Marie, called to remind that the late Arnim Smith must be singularly-credited and lauded for his forceful role in Jizelle Giselle Salandy's celebrated, but brief, boxing career. She reminded that Arnim was the one who directed his senatorial weight to demand that the State take Jizelle under its wings until she reached the age when the Boxing Board could no longer say she too young to sock her opponent.
Arnim Smith (RIP)
Ann Marie, pointed out that she was there, in the Senate Chamber, that 2002 November day -'twas November 19th, significant day that!- when, in his contribution to the Camille Robinson-Regis-led debate over The Children’s Authority (Amdt.) Bill, Arnim rose to his full forensic height mercilessly to slam the Manning administration and the Board -and, several times, his desk- for their doltish attempts to stifle innate talent, something which, first hand, he witnessed them do to the steelband.
The backdrop was a 15 year-old, Jizelle Giselle Salandy, who, lest she wished to be an outlaw in her own land, had been forced to go outside of her native country to pursue the sport she loved: boxing, professional boxing.
No surprise that Ann Marie's memory reawakener prompted a quick googling of Hansard to get the details. And, as it always does, word-for-word, Hansard graphically described what went down that November day in that august chamber, as below excerpted:
Hon. C. Robinson-Regis (In her moving the second reading): "...The Children’s (Amdt.) Act, 2000 gives effect to our various obligations under the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, while making consequential amendments as a result of the Children’s Authority Act, 2000 and the Children’s Community Residences, Foster Homes and Nurseries Act, 2000. Similarly, the Miscellaneous Provisions (Children) Act, 2000 also sought to give effect to a number of our obligations under the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child.
Mr. Vice-President, of those five pieces of legislation passed in the year 2000, only this Act required no proclamation and I would like to take this opportunity to point out that the other pieces of legislation which I have spoken about required either (sic)—and perhaps I need to say this slowly—substantial administrative mechanisms to be put in place, or regulations, or both, before being proclaimed. So, to date, they have not been proclaimed, although they have been assented to and are on the statute books of Trinidad and Tobago.
Mr. Vice-President, all these reasons have led us to where we are today in order to ensure that we can take the proper administrative action, and the action required legislatively to in fact operationalize the statute that is on the statute books. But because nothing was done, they are just there, lying dormant and it is imperative that the pilot project takes place and this is part of that. As a matter of fact, the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child speaks specifically to young people being brought into circumstances which may affect their health, being brought into circumstances where they are employed under onerous conditions, and in fact, the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child to which we are in full agreement protects persons like Giselle Salandy, who, according to the laws of Trinidad and Tobago and the United Nations Convention, is still a child and needs the protection of the laws of Trinidad and Tobago..."
In other words, the then Minister of Legal Affairs and Acting Attorney General, Camille Robinson-Regis, was then suggesting that the proposed amendment was the magic wand to sort out, once and for all, the plethora of social problems related to children. Well! It's 2009! Readers can judge for themselves if such is the case.Hansard continues with Senator Arnim Smith's contribution, reproduced, because of its brevity, in its entirety:
Sen. Arnim Smith: Mr. Vice-President, I have no problem with supporting these Bills. What amazes me is the double standard of the Government. You are bringing Bills here to protect children and you are leaving a child to be abused, exploited, for all kinds of things to happen to her, and you come here today to speak about celebrating her.
There is a young girl by the name of Giselle Salandy who fought and won a world title. She is currently going to school. Her management team contacted the Government for some welcoming or something. What they did was they snubbed the girl. They took a hands-off position. This girl has 12 fights. They are making no attempt to stop that by saying, well convention. The Minister said we are party to some convention against child labour and abuse, but if you do not get involved; if you take a hands-off approach, she would have 30 fights just now, because her management team is getting around the laws and taking her outside to fight. She could die out there. And what do we do here? Sit back. [Interruption] Do not tell me about Kamla! We are talking serious! Everything is "kicks". When I am in this Senate, I am here for the betterment of this country whenever I stand to talk. You are taking a hands-off approach and you are talking about Kamla. So leave her and let her go and die.
We took a hands-off approach, and the Minister is talking about “party to convention”. Why did this Government not get involved, find the girl where sheis—the girl is probably fighting because her family needs money. I watched her and she has some talent. Let the Government get involved and stop her from fighting as a professional, even if it means that they have to give her some maintenance because the family might be poor. Get some tutoring for her. Make sure she goes to school. When she reaches 18 and she wants to box after that, she could. She could become a world champion.
She is doing something positive, you know. She is not taking drugs; she is not on the roadside and we are handing out negatives to her, and we are talking about protecting the child. How could we be protecting her when we take a hands-off approach? On the one hand we are saying we are going to protect her, but there are laws also in this country against children making children, and if you go in the maternity ward, every day there are 12-13-and 14-year-olds making children.
What is put in place to enforce those laws to lock up those fathers? We do nothing! We take a hands-off approach! If you go in the club on Dundonald Street or Tacarigua, close to where Eddie Hart is living, there are prostitute clubs with 14-and 15-year-old children in there. When they reach the age of 22 they are dead from AIDS. Why? We do not care! When it is time to give lip service and "mamaguy", we can "mamaguy" and say, well, yes. I support these laws, but not the double standard.
The Government should have taken the hands of that girl since she came back, but she was left in the hands—she has 11 fights, and there is a law in this country that says you must turn professional—I promote boxing; I know that—at the age of 18. But she is 15 years old with 11 professional fights and we are still saying we are protecting. We have a hands-off position.
They know how to get around the laws here and go outside where there are countries where you could fight at 15 years. You could go to Puerto Rico,Curacao, Colombia. They know how to make those arrangements and you cannot stop her from taking a plane and leaving. But certainly you could get involved in her life, in her career. Guide her, and when she reaches the age of 20 she could bring fame and glory to the country by getting a world title. So my problem is the double standards.
I thank you.
In her rebuttal, Robinson-Regis fatuously attempted to take some shame from her team's face but alluding to the way how the little boy, Shawn -whom Basdeo Panday had for a while attempted to support- had died, completely ignoring her own admission and admonition that it was the State that had the overriding responsibility and right to look after destitute children such as Shawn. Little did she realize that she was walking into a minefield when she uttered these words:
Hon. C. Robinson-Regis: Mr. Vice-President, let me just indicate that the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child says in relation to child labour and maybe I should read this specifically and I hope that the former—not the former, former—Attorney General has looked at this convention on the rights of the child, because of that $10,000 to support child labour. Under that Convention it says:
“The child has the right to be protected from work that threatens his or her health, education or development.”
Boxing, to me, seems to be a threat—[Interruption] No, that is what you are saying! [Interruption] All right, maybe I should give in and say the Senators are in agreement with this and the elected representatives are not. Let me also indicate, according to Article 32 of the Convention on the Rights of the Child states that:
“States Parties recognize the right of the child to be protected from economic exploitation and from performing any work that is likely to be hazardous or to interfere with the child’s education, or to be harmful to the child’s health or physical, mental, spiritual, moral or social development.”
Mr. Vice-President, let me also indicate, and again I thank Sen. Smith for indicating that there is that concern from him that perhaps what we may need to do is to look at the Children's Act, Chap. 46:01, at section 3(1) which states, specifically: If any person over the age of 18 has the custody, care, charge of any child or young person who is willfully assaulted, ill-treated, neglected—and I am just paraphrasing—abandoned or exposed; if that child is exposed or the person causes the child or procures that the child or young person be assaulted, ill-treated, neglected, abandoned or exposed in a manner likely to cause the child or young person unnecessary suffering or injury to his health, including injury to, or loss of sight or hearing or limb or organ of the body and any mental derangement, that person is liable, in the case of summary conviction, to a fine or, in fact, to detention, Mr. Vice-President and Members of the Senate.
So, in fact, the handlers may be brought within the ambit of this law. As a matter of fact I am so glad that Sen. Smith raised the issue so that we could perhaps look at that, and perhaps what may be necessary in order to operationalize taking care of Giselle Salandy, that $10,000 would perhaps be necessary to pay lawyers’ fees when charges are brought against those persons.
Let me also indicate to all within the rubric of double standards, that this legislation is also to protect children who are adopted. I think that was clear to everyone. It is a pity that this legislation was not proclaimed, else Shawn, who was adopted by the current leader of the Opposition some years ago, may have been protected by this legislation, and would not have had to die at Beetham, in the La Basse, trying to collect food and other things from the dump.
The reference to the Beetham dump not only ignored that, as at that date, her political party had been running Trinidad and Tobago, except for two brief interruptions, for forty-six years, but it also caused Arnim to explode, for Arnim, as a child, had no alternative but to hustle for his living on the same dump site. A fact which he never hid from anyone, even the Senate as continued reading of the same Hansard record at once shows:
Sen. Smith: Nothing “eh” wrong with that, I was there too.
Hon. C. Robinson-Regis: You were there?
Sen. Smith: Yes
Maybe Camille Robinson-Regis was not aware of Arnim smith's humble past because she belonged to another world, one where cosmetic appearances took precedence over substantive issues? On has so to conclude since, there and then, instead of adopting an empathetic stance, she continued to make trite of a serious social issue by attempting to score cheap partisan points, to the disgust of other Senators, who finally raised their voices in uproar. But, let Hansard speak!
Hon. C. Robinson-Regis: All right, so you understand what Shawn, who was adopted by the political leader of your party, had to go through. [Interruption]
After which interruption, she quickly took her seat.
In the WIBA's official records, her name is spelt "Giselle", not "Jizelle", as her birth certificate records it. Any which way, none expected that a routine driving excursion would spell the end of Jizelle "Giselle" Salandy's scintillatingly succesful life and career as perhaps, pound-for-pound, the best female professional boxer of all time.
Trinidad and Tobago's Fyzabad-born, female world-renowned boxing champion, Jizelle "Giselle" Salandy, had her young and brilliant life and career brutally cut short, not as a result of injuries sustained in the ring, but in very tragic fashion, from extensive and severe injuries sustained in a vehicle crash earlier this morning, Sunday January 4, 2009!
T&T national and Shorter College female footballer, Tamar Watson, who was in the front passenger-seat, was critically injured: two broken legs and other serious internal injuries.
Police suggestions, from newspaper reports, are that Giselle may have fallen asleep at the wheel as she drove along the Beetham Highway, Sea Lots, Port of Spain, on her way back to her north-Trinidad training camp, after dropping-off a friend at Piarco Airport. The details, as given by the Head of T&T Police's Traffic Branch, Assistant Police Commissioner (ACP) Fitzroy Frederick, are that, around 6.53 am, upon reaching the NP overpass at Sea Lots, Port-of-Spain, Salandy black Toyota Yaris, PCH 6169, slammed, head-on, into a massive concrete support pillar.
Emergency Health Services (EHS) ambulance crews were quickly on the scene and took the bloodied, but still conscious duo to the Port-of-Spain General Hospital, where Salandy succumbed, around 8.29 am, while undergoing emergency surgery.
Just on the verge of 22 -Jizelle would have been, had she lived to January 25, 2009- Jizelle had a big heart and was the undisputed world champion female boxer in the light-middleweight class, with a 17-0 professional record and a very bright future ahead of her.
The last time she fought was on December 26, 2008, when she easily won a unanimous decision points victory over he Dominican Republic’s Yahaira Hernandez (see Trinidad & Tobago Newsday pic below), in the process retaining her eight international 154-pound belts, including the Women’s International Boxing Association (WIBA), World Boxing Association (WBA) and World Boxing Council (WBC) titles
In November 2008, on the strength of her March 2008 defeat of the previously-unbeaten Karolina Lukasik, Jizelle was acclaimed as the WIBA “2008 Boxer of the Year”.
With her death, not just the boxing sorority/fraternity, but Trinidad and Tobago and the entire world has lost a true champion. A true champion because, from all reports, the cause of the weak and downtrodden is the fight which, with sincerity and determination, on she took.
May she have a peaceful rest and may those who loved and supported her find comfort in this, their hour of grief.
Though never having met her, their grief and pain shared are.
Now, to the pillar itself!
The concrete column which Salandy hit is one of the massive pillars which support the Sea Lots Overpass into Port of Spain. Ominously, it's been dubbed the "Killa Pilla". And for good reasons, for the list if its victims is long and longer grows with each passing year. Some have managed, by God's grace, to escape its life-snuffing embrace. Many have not. The roll call of the latter include the likes of Ram Kirpalani, a business magnate, and Joseph Bodkyn, a Trinidad and Tobago Chief Immigration Officer.
What is it about the Killa Pilla that makes it such a horror-inducing event every witless engagement or treating with it? Is it that Killa Pilla is possessed of/by some bloodthirsty jumbie?
Whatever. What's plain is that, as this tragedy of Jizelle and Tamara shows, Killa Pilla is a structure with which one all who confront it must treat with supercilious care. Which Jizelle "Giselle" Salandy did, for, as ACP Frederick stressed “There was nothing to suggest she (Salandy) may have been drinking." Even mortal trepidation. Which apparently she did not do, for, again, as Frederick stressed “There is the probability she fell asleep or she lost control of the vehicle.” Which prompted the senior cop further to comment that Salandy’s death had brought the 2009 year-to-date road-fatality figure to two and to issue another appeal to motorists to exercise vigilance.
All well and good. But what of the relevant road authority, the Ministry of Works and Transport, the authority legally-charged with devising, instituting, overseeing and updating safe-motoring laws and conditions? Nothing ACP Frederick said exculpated that Ministry from its apparent and long-standing negligent performance. In fact, he, unwittingly, has singled out how obvious such negligence is, for, also, in commenting on the tragic collision, he stressed that “There was nothing to suggest she (Salandy) collided with anything before crashing into the pillar...”
Bingo!
For the Killa Pilla -like all similarly-disposed structures- has been and remains the undisputed Grim Victor in its every debacle with with all who run up against it mainly because that Ministry has never seen it fit to shroud the its base with shock-absorbent buffers, not even simple, but effective, ones, like used vehicle tyres. Negligence which, by any imaginary stretch, most amazing is and which borders on the criminal! Why? Because, as the above picture plainly shows, the Killa Pilla ominously looms mere metres from the edge of the Beetham Highway, a highway along which fast-moving wheeled-traffic hurtles, silently posing, as, yet again, with Jizelle, has been shown, a passive, but clear, present and very lethal threat to all who by its Grouper-like mouth, day in day out, whizz.
