Dudus and Jamaica

The events now taking place in Kingston, Jamaica is indeed most unsettling to the mind, but to someone who grew up on the Island and witnessed the political chaos that erupted there during the seventies and eighties it is not at all surprising. With so many guns now existing on the Island due to the influx of artillery that made its way there during what seemed to be a deliberate attempt to destabilize the country for the purpose of political maneuvering it now looks like the chicken has come home to roost.

To fully understand the why of what is currently taking place in Jamaica lets rewind to 1972. This was when Mr. Michael Manley, then leader of the People's National Party (PNP) which was the opposing party at the time and was leaning in a direction regarded as having a communist agenda; the PNP however won the election, making Mr. Manley Jamaica's fourth Prime Minister. This was also during the era of the cold war between the USA and Russia. I being a young teenager during these years, had not formed a political ideology at this point, but do recollect visiting for the first time to the (JIS) Jamaica Information Service to conduct a research on current events for a church project I was involved in. There, I came across the concept of the Nonaligned Movement of which Jamaica was a member, I found this to be intriguing and very informative.

Until 1972, Jamaica was a relatively peaceful Island. A place one would be happy to call home; where one was more than happy to return to after a long migration overseas; for the benefit of spending one's final days of an earthly sojourn in peace and tranquility. Alas, Jamaica would become a gun-toting battlefield due to political unrest fueled by the debate on communism which took traction on the Island .

There were guns of all makes and models making their way to the Island from various sectors of the globe. Finding hands for the use of these guns was in no way a challenge. Jamaica not too far removed from colonial rule; having gained it's so-called independence only ten years earlier, was and still is attempting to recover from what Dr. Joy De Gruy Leary I think would describe as Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome.

The high illiteracy rate, pockets of slums and economic impoverishment all contributed to the location of willing minds and capable hands to participate in the destruction of what was once considered a virtual paradise. Overnight it was transformed into a living hell, an aura of death could be felt in the atmosphere. The political rivalry between the People's National Party and the Jamaica Labor Party (JLP) had become insanely violent. Like magnet, the youths were dragged into warfare and with police and soldiers roaming the street day and night ,the Island had the feel of a virtual combat zone; the sound of gunshots became a routine occurrence. The radio's daily news broadcast along with the newspaper was consumed with the stories of death and destruction; another day, another killing, another family in pain grieving for their son or daughter who had fallen victim to the political insanity that had taken hold of the 144 square miles patch of earth sitting in the midst of the Caribbean Sea.

By 1976 the band-wagon of political chaos and destruction was bursting at the seams. The ordinary citizenry had been forced to either become a part of the insanity or lose their lives as an opposing element of the fraction that had arrogated themselves; the area dons, bosses, leaders or whatever they considered themselves to be. No one was spared; men, women, children, it did not matter; if you were not willing to be a part of the madness, you had to escape without notice knowing that you will no longer have a home to return to, or show unwavering support to the political party to which these self-proclaimed foot soldiers had aligned themselves.

By 1980 the entire country was in total chaos, the violence had now found its way to some suburban areas of the country. There were electrical power shortages, sometimes several times per day. Food became a scarce commodity, and the prices had gone insanely high on what food items could be found,  leaving the country desperate for change; a goal attained through rape, theft, arson and murders by ignorant, impressionable minds executing savagery with guns (some home-made) brought into the country for the purpose of the created state of destruction and fear.

Fast forward to 2010 where Jamaica is trying to put behind her political violent past with hopes of once again luring her tourists on whom she is greatly dependent on (aided undoubtedly by it's now famous track star Usain Bolt ). Jamaica is again forced to face another period of unrest with a month long curfew now in effect, stemming from America's demand of the extradition of one Christopher "Dudus" Coke for drug trafficking charges in the USA where he would be facing a possible life sentence to be spent on one of America's only remaining slave plantations. So said because according to the 13th amendment of the US Constitution, which in my humble opinion, kept in place that horrible concept of force labor which was so brutally dispensed on humanity (be it the outright barbarous practice that the African experienced or the water-wash version that was called indentured servitude).

Mr. Coke may indeed be guilty of the accusations levelled against him and the Prime Minister's nine month refusal to extradite because of what he feels were illegally obtained wiretap evidence may very well have some merit. However, taking all this into consideration, the reality remains that for the country to once again be dealing with gun toting civilians at odds with the security forces will be very detrimental to the tourist industry and a terrible experience for the youths of the country. The availability of guns on the Island I do believe if traced, will without doubt finds its origin back to the seventies and eighties when the violent political monster reared it's vicious head.

My hope is that the events that are now occurring in Jamaica will have a more peaceful conclusion abating the present unrest and bringing back a semblance of peace to the Island.

Happy Birthday Malcolm X

It is now two days to Malcolm's birthday. A day that has been celebrated as a holiday in the city of Berkeley, California since 1971, a fitting honor for an individual who was so viciously assassinated for so eloquently expounding on the dilemma his African brethren was confronting here on these American shores, in Africa, the Mother continent and so-called Third World and the greater World at large; wherever the problem of racism existed.

A Brother with a world view who was blessed with the ability of deep thought and charismatic eloquence.

My childhood in Jamaica where I was born and resided until the age of twenty seven, at which point I  migrated to the USA was void of any knowledge about Malcolm X due to limited schooling. I myself being no avid scholar (accompanied with the fact that until 1972 there was a ban on many books on the Island which also included books of or about the beloved Brother), possessed a crave for information and would often spend time listening to the news, radio talk shows, or browsing through the daily newspaper, a hobby I continued even after my migration to the American shore in 1986. I would soon taste what is hopefully mere remnants of the African American unfortunate and distasteful experience, and sad to say, an experience felt  globally by people of dark complexion depending on the progress a country had made since gaining its so-called independence from the corruption and disgrace that was colonization.

It is my contention that the variance of the human complexion became a mere mechanism by which a glutton, iniquitous and depraved sector of the human population, men without conscience; executed their devised plan
to fill their coffers with material wealth at the expense of the soul of the human character. In this attempt to systematically dehumanize the African, indisputably accomplishing the same for their race.

How is it possible to attempt the dehumanization of any human being without first lowering the moral value of one's divine nature?

Truth be told the black and white friction was all a farce the real struggle was and continues to be one for the color green_ the almighty (dollar). Therefore all the people were duped, hoodwinked and bamboozled while the few ignoble who poisoned the planet's population to near death and if they could, would have held the world hostage, gasping for air, had what they thought was lavish living. All along living a life of immoral enrichment when they could have been living one that was both morally upright and pure.

And so in two days on May 19th the opportunity to celebrate Brother Malcolm X's life on this planet will once again present itself should the hands of time allows us another sunlight.

His life though short lived is one I wold prefer than one of longevity lived in the shoes of a slave master, an oppressor or just a racist bigot. So on May 19th, 2010 should I not continue to enjoy the blessings of the universe's eternal sustaining elements I wish to with this post declare my  unwavering appreciation for this Brother's sacrifice. For him who stood up for justice that has been trampled beneath hateful and pernicious feet on an onward march towards the demise of the human collective existence.

Happy Mother's Day Mom

Where to begin? Well let me begin by quoting a few lines from Bob Marley who said in his song Coming In From The Cold "Every man was once a baby... in this life..." With age comes experience and at the ripe golden age of fifty, I am using the term golden age here having given it some thought beforehand, because in my opinion not only is every year a golden one but every moment should be considered such, with the understanding that longevity is not a given.

And with fifty years under my belt not only do I have a lot to say; but having survived the perils of what is a man made New world order, I do believe I have earned the right to speak my mind.

I am a son of the soil a child of the Universe_ with the right to exist as does the moon and the stars above within the upper stratosphere, I believe in only one race, the human-race, with a variegated semblance of complexion, a variance which was used by persons of denigrated character to manipulate the mind of others to benefit their greed and craven lust; for which sixty to one hundred million Africans suffered because of their strength and ability to endure the long voyage of thousands of miles, and cruel slave labor that was so brutally wrenched from their system in what some call the Atlantic Slave Trade. But is to the African nothing short of a devastating and inhumane Holocaust a crime against humanity no doubt, and a stinking stench in the human experience.

And so on this Mother's day Weekend I wish to take this opportunity to once again show some gratitude and my appreciation to my mother for not aborting what was once just an embryo irrespective of the difficulties with which she was confronted and the advise from her peers which they had considered prudent and logical after their assessment of her unfortunate dilemma.

The following is a poem written and copyright by me, titled Right to Life; dedicated to my mother, and I think
a suitable addition to this post.

      Right To Life

If my mom had listen to her peers

Had not fought and conquered her fears

This boy child she would not have borne

But would have aborted me from her womb

Thank you mom for the pain you bore

As doctors shouted push some more

Which was nothing to compare

With all the pain you had to bear

Having five hungry kids to rear

For those times when dad was away

You worked so hard both night and day

So we could have a bite to eat

Clothes on our backs shoes on our feet

I remember we were financially poor

Real hard times we had to endure

Still I knew we had much wealth

For through your love mom this was felt

Thank you mom for giving me birth

For life's experience on this earth

Where I've grown to learn one fact

That every man white or black

Is a child of the Universe

and with his life can influence its course

These words mom are to show appreciation

For your love

And your devotion

Thank you mom