Kiting in Jamaica…A Shi++y Experience.

He called me before 7am, voice thick with distress.
“Kelly: I really didn’t go to business school to deal with this.”

“What’s the matter, my Friend?”
“Kelly. Kelly. Kelly…” And he related this tale of woe to me.  But before the tale of woe, some background and context for you, Gentle Reader.
My Friend is the distribution manager at the main distribution center of a large retail organisation in Jamaica. He has many,many years operations experience under his belt and is the holder of an MBA from a prestigious business school.
The organisation that he works for just invested a significant sum of money, literally millions of US dollars, upgrading their warehousing & distribution capacity and capabilities. The project provided employment for scores of Jamaicans in the inner city community of Kingston where the new distribution center (DC) is located.
My Friend complained. He was the voice of defeat tinged with disgust:
“Kelly. Kelly. Kelly. Dem a fling shit over the wall into the DC.”

Residents of the community adjoining the DC had resumed the practice of “kiting”. Nope. Quickly dispel those images of wide open spaces, breezy days and colourful kites being danced and flown by carefree children laughing gaily.
No.

“Kiting” is the practice of defecating into a black plastic bag (we call it “black scandal bag” here on the Rock), knotting the bag and slinging said bag with its contents away. “Away” means anywhere outside of the slinger’s immediate vicinity: a gully, an open field, or over a wall into a spanking new DC. I was not unfamiliar with this Jamaican urban phenomenon. I knew it by other names though: “helicopter” and “parachute”, the aforementioned used as verbs. “The squatter dem on the gully-bank nuh have nuh water. Dem haffi helicopter (or parachute) more time.”
See a “kite” on the ground there…Careful now!
My Friend had to endure patiently the complaints of the DC’s groundsman: 
Mi nuh really come ya fi pick up shit yuh know, Sar.”

My Friend was squarely put in his place when he called the local police hoping for intervention and assistance: 
“Look. We not getting involved in that. Yuh haffi see if yuh can find somebody ova deh fi call and get dem fi sort out dat situation fi yuh. Wi ah tell yuh up front: wi nah deal wid dat.”
And so, My Friend, MBA notwithstanding, had to engage the Special Community Member given the “contract” for “bushing the yard” and seek help from him. The Special Community Member gave My Friend a name and a number: “Call him. Him ah di don fi di area. Him wi fix it fi yuh.”
Don: Noun. Community Leader who enforces the local code of conduct and rule of law. Exists in so-called inner-city communities characterised by high unemployement and poverty.
In speaking with the don, My Friend reminded him that the organisation had dug three pit latrines for the community as part of the project (see how operational costs balloon in a context of utter depravity?) and that he was kindly and humbly beseeching him to intervene and get the community members to use said pits and to desist from kiting going forward.
I knew that the DC owner (a man well known for being a neat freak) was scheduled to visit, and even as I commiserated with My Friend, I rolled in laughter, tears streaming down my face as I conjured up a scenario where Fastidious Owner Man saw one of these “kites” on the ground and kicked it in disgust only to have his foot rupture the “kite” and sink into the soft squishiness of its contents…
I was the only one laughing. Understandably.
I wondered aloud how “kiting” impacted the “Ease of Doing Business in Jamaica” index…I started rolling again. Alone. Again, understandably so. A clear case of “He who feels it (smells it, sees it) knows it.”
So here we are in 2016 Jamaica:
  • People shitting in bags.
  • Bags filled with shit being flung into the middle of a commercial operation.
  • Commercial operations being saddled with costs that other more civilized jurisdictions don’t have to contend with. So much for competitiveness.
  • The police, whose stated job is to “Serve, Protect and Reassure” doing none of the above. Weh law and order a go? Oh shit.
  • A commercial operation forced to do business with a community don.

And guess whose constituency all of this is happening in…

#JamaicaNice

Beach Apartheid In Jamaica A Polarising Force

Letter of the Day published in The Daily Gleaner, Friday December 4
THE EDITOR, Sir:
I just returned from Grenada, where I spent a wonderful week.
As I sat on their premier beach, Grande Anse, I couldn’t help but compare and contrast Grenada’s approach to beach management and what I see happening here in Jamaica.
Grande Anse Beach, Grenada
The best beaches in Jamaica are open to all – but at a price.
Doctor’s Cave, Frenchman’s Cove, and Bamboo Beach Club are some of our most beautiful beaches that allow you entry once you pay anywhere between J$600 and J$800 per person. Work that out for a family of four.
Having paid that, you are not allowed to carry your own beach chair or picnic.
On beautiful Grand Anse, you pay no admission fee. You can carry your chair. Or you can rent from people who have chairs for rent. Some carry their chair, but the chair-rental man still makes a living from those who opt not to carry their own chair.
You can carry your picnic, or you can buy food from vendors outside the beach or from the one restaurant actually located on the beach.
There is free Wi-Fi along the length of the beach.
Garbage bins were strategically placed and managed, and all locals and tourists used them. The beach was clean. Tourists and locals freely intermingled, giving visitors the authentic Grenadian experience. Note, too, that there are hotels located along the stretch of beach called Grande Anse and the visitors use the same beach that non-visitors use.
Beach police patrol the stretch. There is very little hawking of wares on the beach. There is no loud, intrusive music.
If you need to use a restroom, there are facilities run by the State that you can use once you pay a small fee to the attendant on duty.
Here in Jamaica, it feels as if we deliberately set out to create a polarised society and a context where select people get to enrich themselves at the expense of others. We can all coexist. Look at Grande Anse!
KELLY MCINTOSH

From The Heart of a Champion to Good Governance: Making the Connection.

Jamaica is still basking in the after-glow of extra-ordinary performances of our athletes at the recently held World Championships. “How can we as a nation benefit from the success of our athletes?” is probably one of the most asked questions around town.  “How can we leverage Brand Jamaica?” they ask. 
Courtesy Jamaica Olympics
I practically fell off my couch (along with the rest of Jamaica I am sure) as I saw Usain Bolt stumble in his 100m semi-final race. I had tweeted just minutes before the race that it is impossible to correct any error over 100m, in ten seconds or less. Usain proved me wrong. He corrected his error, won that race and did it in under 10 seconds. Two hours later he went on to win the final race. That victory is attributable to more than physical ability. Usain Bolt demonstrated that he had what we refer to in Jamaica as a “Lion Heart”.
Novlene Williams-Mills, a track veteran over 400m and cancer survivor (VICTOR!), ran the leg of lifetime to inspire the world and set a new meet record. When you understand what cancer and its treatment does to your body, you realise that Novlene too opened up her “Lion Heart” and got the job done.
Much has been made about the sacrifices, financial and otherwise of Jamaica’s track athletes. A nation along with the rest of the world has watched with bated breath, hearts full of hope, lungs bursting along with the athletes as they have over and over again exploded across the finish line, sometimes against all odds.
By their own admission, many of our champions have attributed their success to the fact that they are Jamaican. They have cited their desire to make Jamaica proud and have spoken about their strong desire for victory and their relentless pursuit of it as an extension of them being Jamaican. Somehow, it seems, there is something about this Jamaican-ness that allows the Jamaican track athlete to pursue, with confidence, the top prize. It goes beyond the system that has at its core the ISSA Boys and Girls Athletics Championships that acts as an incubator and forces track talent to bubble to the top year after year. Adults and school children are witnesses to the immense raw talent that exists in our secondary schools. The champions of tomorrow are spotted here and opportunities overseas and indeed right here on the Rock ensure that transition from potential to actuality.
But Jamaica’s prowess on the track transcends any system. We, along with the rest of the world, believe that Jamaica is the sprint capital of the world. We see ourselves as sprinters and continue to dominate over the shorter distances. Our sprinters are our champions. We tell them they are. They know it. We position ourselves as champions of the sprints and plan, allocate resources and execute on our plans to dominate accordingly.
So we too watch in awe as our sprinters dominate and show to all in attendance that “Lion-Heart” that distinguishes the champions from the others that merely run fast. I sit on the edge of my bed and marvel at that “warrior-spirit” that forces the Jamaican athlete to decisively compartmentalise injury and unfortunate lane draws and focus with amazing single mindedness and clarity on The Goal: “mi ah go just run yah, Man!”
And as I marvel at this manifestation of the Lion-Heart and warrior spirit of our sprint champions, I have one question. My question is not “how can we leverage the success of our athletes to the benefit of Jamaica?” My one simple question is this: “How can we leverage the spirit of the Jamaican athletes and demand and obtain effective governance in Jamaica?”
Why is this “Lion-Heart” and this warrior spirit seemingly confined to the track, meanwhile back at home, the same Jamaica that produced giants on the track continues to wallow and indeed spiral downwards in a cesspool of crime, zero economic growth, poverty and political corruption? In the eternal words of Burning Spear, I recall some great men, and I think about our sons and daughters who have left our shores for foreign lands and in doing so have excelled and done well, and I once again wonder about our stagnation and even decline as an independent nation and I wonder how come.
I want to know how we can translate this “Lion-Heart” and warrior spirit to Jamaica Land we Love and conquer the world. Individual triumphs are to be admired and celebrated. But there is no reason why Jamaica should not likewise triumph. Short term fame for Jamaica because of the exploits of Jamaican track stars and any attendant economic spill-offs are not my quest. I want to see the spirit of the track champion rise up in each and every Jamaican and manifest in the form of complete dissatisfaction as to where we are as a country, and see us striving towards and demanding effective governance. Sometimes I wonder if our greatest strength as a people, our resilience in the face of hardship, is perhaps our greatest weakness too. Our ability to survive perhaps allows us to accept mediocrity in our leadership and governance norms, and ends up perpetuating a context where we do not demand more from our leaders.
Courtesy The Jamaica Gleaner
                                           
I am not relinquishing the role of the individual in changing the paradigm. I am not down playing the role of the individual and passing the blame on to Leadership. Not at all. But in national development, there really is no substitute for national vision and policy, and sound, effective governance that eschews corruption and has the good of the nation in the forefront of all its decisions and actions. So why do we, 53 years after independence from Britain, continue to accept the status quo of political corruption which is at the root of all that is wrong with Jamaica? Where is this “Lion-Heart” and this warrior spirit that has birthed champions on the track and yet seems to elude us as a collective? We choose to distance ourselves from the democratic processes and the few that have made the connection between effective governance and national well-being continue to toggle between orange and green hoping for better.
Governance has everything to do with a decision making process that supports a national vision. What do we want Jamaica to look like? How do we envision our lives and the lives of our families in a Jamaica that is prosperous and safe and where everyone has the same opportunity to make good on his or her personal dreams? And what of the quality and types of decisions that national leaders make in furtherance of this vision?
Good governance, effective governance looks like this: it is accountable, it is transparent, it follows the rule of law, it is responsive and it is equitable and inclusive.
Check it: effective governance puts in place structures and systems that make it difficult for political corruption to flourish. And having instituted these structures and systems, effective governance ensures that they are not handicapped, that their role is respected and that they are allowed to work. Effective governance ensures that limited resources are allocated in order to get the best return on investment in support of the national vision. So under effective governance, elementary education is never short-changed for example. Under effective governance, justice looks the same no matter how you speak or how you look or where in Jamaica you come from. Under effective governance, health care is properly resourced and administered. Under effective governance, security forces really do protect, serve and reassure.
Imagine a Jamaica where decision making is not based on box-ticking and appearances. Imagine a Jamaica where national contracts are not formed with personal enrichment on the part of the public administrator/leader as part of the decision making matrix.
Under effective governance Jamaica would not have to waste time seeking to exploit the success a few on the track, because a sound national vision and operating plan and engine would already be at work, ever moving towards national greatness and prosperity.
That we are already a nation of lion hearts possessed of a warrior spirit has been demonstrated. Now we need to wake up and channel our natural propensity for victory into demanding more and not settling for what has been dished out to us. 

Scrap Metal thieves derail internet service

Published in the Daily Gleaner, Aug 17, 2015
http://jamaicagleaner.com/article/letters/20150817/scrap-metal-thieves-derail-internet-service
THE EDITOR, Sir:
At the time of writing on Sunday, August 16, 2015, it is now Day 10 of no Internet in Coopers Hill, St Andrew. My neighbours are suffering, along with me and my family.
Our provider, LIME, has told us that “it’s a serious problem, affecting the entire area” and that they are unable to say when service will be restored. When confronted with the question of stolen cables in discussions with LIME, representatives of the company would neither affirm nor deny.
We called Flow with a view to switching to a provider that could actually provide and they, too, admitted that they’re not in a position to take on new customers at this time as their customers, too, are without service because of “a serious problem, affecting the entire area”.
This is the third time in about four years that we’ve been impacted in this way because of stolen cables. Forget my inconvenience because I can’t tweet or see what my family and friends are up to on Facebook. Forget the fact that I can’t pay my bills conveniently from the comfort of my own home. Don’t even think about the fact that I can’t monitor or manage my investments right now.
I wonder what I’d do if I ran a business from my home. Imagine not being able to interact with your stakeholders, to invoice your clients, to make and receive payment. School is about to resume. What of students needing to research and complete assignments?
I wish someone would quantify the net benefit to the country of the scrap metal trade. The Government’s decision to allow export of scrap metal is not fully thought out and is causing more problems than benefits.
Tell me what activity in Jamaica in 2015 generates enough scrap metal to warrant this so-called scrap metal industry. All it does is incentivise the pillaging of infrastructure to benefit very few and penalise those trying to be part of the 21st century.
I wish our telecoms companies would be more strident in decrying the costly side effect of this so-called scrap metal industry, both to their bottom lines and their customers. We, your customers, are with you on this one!
We anxiously await resumption of service.
KELLY MCINTOSH

What does Independence Day Mean to You?

My thoughts published in the Jamaica Gleaner, August 6 2015
https://jamaica-gleaner.com/article/news/20150806/myreport-what-does-independence-day-mean-you

Kelly McIntosh: August 6 in the land of my birth, Jamaica, marks 53 years of Independence from Great Britain. Fifty three years ago we sang our own national anthem and raised our own flag. ‘Jamaica 53: Proud and Free’ is the theme this year. Really? Who says?
There are two Jamaicas: One where the schools are clean and quiet and teachers speak respectfully to students. And there is one where children crowd into noisy, hot classrooms and are expected to learn.
There’s one Jamaica where you get justice if you have the money to pay for it. There’s another Jamaica where you are tossed roughly from side to side inside the bowels of the justice system and hope for the best. You often don’t get it.
There’s a Jamaica that’s filled with boat rides to Lime Cay and outings to the movies, and another Jamaica where you hang out on the corner to grab a little cool air. There’s one Jamaica that moves about in high-off-the-ground air-conditioned vehicles and another Jamaica that moves around in tightly packed public buses, fighting to keep sane on your way to work and school, and where you long to get home in the evening just to do it all over again in the morning.
There’s the Jamaica where you dare not get ill on a Saturday evening or public holiday. There’s one Jamaica where we lock up tightly in gated communities or behind high walls, where security codes are a way of life and private security companies are on speed dial. Then there’s the other Jamaica where four-year-olds instinctively roll under the bed at the sound of a gun-shot — and they know the difference between gun shots and ‘clappers’.
I cannot ignore the two Jamaicas. And it is the reality of these two Jamaicas that gives me pause on our 53rd anniversary.

The Broken Windows Theory & Policing in Jamaica: “To protect, Serve and Reassure…those who matter”

Once upon time, in a small, quiet community in West Rural St. Andrew, a homeowner came from work one evening confronted by the sight of an old white station waggon on blocks, on the sidewalk almost opposite his front gate. It was a jarring sight: this old, disabled car, an ugly blemish on the green, rustic landscape. Days passed, each day seeing another part of the car missing. One day it had only one door instead of two. The next day, the bonnet was gone. On yet another day, the dashboard had been taken. The car was being scrapped right on the sidewalk, in the middle of this small, quiet community.
The homeowner typically left for work by 7am and returned home after 7pm. He relied on his housekeeper to inform him of the activity around the (not so) abandoned car. She reported that the car’s owner had some connection to the house opposite his…he helped to build it, he claimed, and it was actually his mother’s property, now rented out. He promised that the car would be moved, that he just needed a little more time.
After six weeks of facing this almost shell of a car wreck on blocks, in front of his gate, the homeowner reported the matter to the local police. He reasoned that sufficient time had elapsed and he preferred not to get into an argument with someone who appeared to be comfortable with scrapping a car piece by piece on the sidewalk over an extended period of time. Furthermore, any opportunity to interact with the scrapper would demand a change to his own schedule, awaiting Mr. Scrapper’s attendance at the wreck. This matter of a scrapped car, perched on blocks on the sidewalk, was most certainly an issue of law and order, easily dealt with by the police, he reasoned.
He was in for a rude awakening. 
Ten weeks elapsed, and the shell of the car was still on the sidewalk opposite his gate. One morning, Mr. Homeowner’s wife was leaving for work and she saw two men “working” on the car. She stopped and attempted to pleasantly engage the men, seeking to elicit some sort of timeline and commitment for disposing of the wreck. She was greeted with hostility from one of the men who claimed ownership of the wreck. He angrily sought to justify the presence of the wreck on “his sidewalk” since the sidewalk adjoined “his mother’s house, the house weh him broad out him back fi help har build!” He went on to rant about the homeowner going to the police instead of trying to find him first, and declared “ah nuh so we fi live!”.  Mrs. Homeowner, a bit intimidated, but resolute, politely ended the discussion with: “Anyway, it really doesn’t belong here. Please seek to get it removed sooner rather than later.”
Twelve weeks elapsed, and the wreck was still on the sidewalk. By this time, it was a mere chassis. Note that at the end of 6 weeks having not heard from the police or seeing any resolution, Mr. Homeowner stepped up inquiries of the local police. He made a total of 7 visits to the police station, spoke with a superintendent of police on the matter and went on to report said issue to a senior superintendent of police. In discussions with the police, Mr. Homeowner confirmed that the property was not stolen, and the person responsible was known to the police and was being ‘given time’ to remove the item and clean the mess. Mr. Homeowner remains adamant that the presence of this shell and garbage is a public health and security risk.

In reviewing this story and how it might play out, the “Broken Windows Theory” immediately came to mind. The Broken Windows Theory, posited by Wilson and Kelling in 1982, seeks to make a link between disorder and more serious crime. The theory was born out of the following observations and reasoning: a building with a few broken windows is likely to have other windows broken by vandals eventually, said vandals going on to eventually break in and even become squatters. Consider also a clean sidewalk. Some litter accumulates. This leads to more litter. And even more litter as people conclude that this is an unpoliced situation where anything can and does go.
Wilson and Kelling maintain that disorder, while not directly linked to more serious crime, certainly leads to increased fear and withdrawal from residents, which creates a context for more serious crime to flourish. Residents will grow cynical as to the role and efficacy of the police, and fail to report violations they see or experience. Persons of mal-intent will quickly identify this context as one where they can do as they like and more than likely get away with it.
That the actions of the man scrapping this car on the sidewalk are against the law is beyond debate. His actions constitute a breach of section 45 & 46 of the National Solid Waste Management Act.
Section 45 definitively states that every person who disposes of solid waste in any area or in any manner not approved by the Authority…commits an offence and shall be liable on summary conviction before a Resident Magistrate to a fine not exceeding one million dollars or to imprisonment for a term not exceeding nine months or to both such fine and imprisonment
Section 46 continues: (1) A person commits an offence if he- (a) throws, drops or otherwise deposits and leaves any litter in any public place; or (b) erects, displays (whether by writing, marking or otherwise), deposits or affixes anything in a public place or on any building, wall, fence or structure abutting or adjoining a public place, in such circumstances as to cause, contribute to or tend to the defacement of that place, building wall, fence or structure, as the case may be, and shall be liable to a penalty under section 53.
The law continues to guide law enforcers as to their response to breeches of this act in Section 53: Where an authorized officer finds a person on any occasion and has reason to believe that on that occasion that person is committing or has committed an offence to which this section applies, he may serve that person with the prescribed notice in writing offering the discharge of any liability to conviction of that offence by payment of a fixed penalty under this section…
To provide even more clarity, here are definitions under the law that remove all doubt as to the legality of the scrapping and abandoning of the car on the sidewalk:
“authorized officer”: any member of the Jamaica Constabulary Force
“litter”: solid waste in any public place and includes any refuse, rubbish, bottles, glass, debris, dirt, rubble, ballast, stones, noxious or contained substances or waste matter or any other matter likely to deface, make untidy, obstruct or cause a nuisance in a public place
“public place”:  includes every public highway, street, road, square, court, alley, lane, bridle way, footway, parade, wharf, jetty, quay, bridge, sidewalk, verge;
After twelve weeks and numerous reports, Mr. Homeowner has reasonably concluded that the police have failed to uphold the law in this situation. The police have been unresponsive. The chassis remains on the sidewalk. Mr. Scrapper remains free. The police, by refusing to act decisively and uphold the law where this scrapped car is concerned, have now created a context that exposes this community to the possibility of even more serious crime.
Indeed, the police have spoken to the offender. This is evidenced by Mr. Scrapper’s anger when speaking to Mrs. Homeowner. One gets the feeling that the police have framed their discussion with this known offender from the point of view of the homeowner: “Mr. So and So wants you to move that car from in front of his home” rather than framing the offence from the point of view of the law! Had the police engaged him by pointing out the offence as it is framed in law, they could have prevented the tension that exists because Mr. Scrapper feels that Mr. Homeowner “a give him a fight.” There are too many examples in Jamaica of lives being lost as a result of interactions borne out of unchecked, escalating tensions between parties; disorder giving rise to so called serious crime.
If Mr. Homeowner sees suspicious activity in a nearby residence, who could blame him if he opts not to report it to the police? He can reasonably conclude after all, that the police are selective in how they go about serving, reassuring and protecting. More serious crime can potentially move in to this community now in the face of decreased levels of informal social control.
The Broken Windows Theory and policing are not without criticism. There are studies showing that zero tolerance has led to uneven prosecution in some areas, minorities being targeted and punished for very minor infractions at a higher rate than their white counterparts in the USA for example.
It would suit the police and political directorate here in Jamaica to consider this approach to crime fighting, however.  We have seen a general decline in law and order: loud music way into the night, filthy cities and communities, deliberate ignoring of zoning laws in residential neighbourhoods seeing a rise in commercial activity, savoury and otherwise (think massage parlours) increased road fatalities from reckless driving and on and on. What have we to lose from an approach that treats with such offences as prescribed by the law? The police appear to be selective in which laws they opt to enforce and how they enforce them. This surely is not their right!
After three months, the police still have an opportunity to do the right thing and re-establish a context of law and order in that West Rural St. Andrew community where a scrapped chassis remains a blemish, health risk and security risk, and an obvious affront to the laws of the land. They must immediately act as the law demands, making it clear that the offender’s actions go beyond upsetting Mr. Homeowner, that they are in clear contravention of the law. They still have an opportunity to act and in so doing, dissuade potential lawbreakers seeing a slow decline in standards in the community from adding to the disorder. They still have an opportunity prevent and possibly reverse the disenchantment and resentment that Mr. Homeowner and his family may feel, maintaining these critical allies, the citizens, without whom crime fighting can never work.
Selective enforcement of the law strips the police of legitimacy, rendering their efforts at crime fighting null and void.

Were this another community, say Kingston 8, or were the sidewalk in front of the Prime Minister’s residence or in front of Mr. Captain of Industry’sor indeed in front of the Commissioner of Police’s residence, would the police response to an abandoned chassis be the same as it has been in this West Rural St. Andrew community?  On what basis does the police decide which laws to enforce and when? “To Serve, Protect and Reassure” is the stated motto of the Jamaica police. Their lack of responsiveness to an action that is in direct contravention of the law of the land suggests that their motto would more accurately read: “To serve, protect and reassure those who matter…” 

The Visit: Yes We Can Clean Up Kingston (apparently!)

President Barack Obama has inspired millions, not just in the USA but the world over. Mr. Obama symbolizes possibility, hope and change. President Obama and his family serve as the face for what family means, specifically, what Black Family means. The Obamas present an alternative to the reality of many and an inspiration for what can be.
Many of here in Jamaica watched with bated breath and crossed fingers as Americans voted for their first black president. His words during his 2009 inauguration inspired Americans, Africans and indeed citizens of the world, as he articulated a vision of a New America, one where everyone would have the same opportunities, of a world where America would co-exist with the other nations on the planet through diplomacy and a focus on mutual benefit rather than seeking to police and wield a big stick. He quoted George Washington: “Let it be told to the future world that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive, that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet it.” This was a timely and relevant message to me personally at a very low point in my own life. I kept on moving. I kept hope alive in my heart.

Jamaica welcomes him with open arms. I am so happy that we seem able to clean house and put our best foot forward to welcome this historic, inspirational figure.  I hope with all my heart that we make a significant impression on Mr. Obama. I hope that he will remember his visit to Jamaica long after he leaves the White House.
It is our own government that I take issue with. Daily we plead with our government for good roads, for garbage collection, for street lights to be repaired, for even an appearance of order. Literally overnight, our government has transformed areas of our city Kingston into oases of clean, orderly, beauty. What we have been clamouring for is apparently not impossibility! What has happened is more than mere clean up to receive and honour distinguished and worthy guests. This is a slap in the face of us tax payers who are forced to exist and live in squalor. To be very clear: it’s the absolute absence of any semblance of reasonable governance ordinarily that makes the preparation for The Visit so offensive.

Let us take pictures of “Kingston Face Lifted” as evidence of what can be done, literally overnight, if government simply makes a decision.

“All of Jamaica (that matters) is Here” Diner en Blanc, Kingston, Jamaica.

I haven’t spoken about Kingston’s Diner en Blanc until now. Shrugs. I simply haven’t felt the need to. It was just another party. The pictures I saw looked beautiful! Diner en Blanc was all about gorgeous people in white, lovely place settings, in the beautiful Emancipation Park.  Diner en Blanc is an international movement. 

Photo courtesy of Diner en Blanc, Kingston’s FaceBook Page 

Then I watched ER’s report on Diner en Blanc. A representative from one of our leading banks made a statement that has been bothering me since Friday night: “All of Jamaica is here”. No, Ma’am. Not at all. 900 people is not all of Jamaica. Did you mean to say “All of Jamaica that matters is here”?Think about it: All of Jamaica (that matters) is here. 

This goes to the heart of what is wrong. It reveals the thinking of many of us. It explains much of what we see around us. “All of Jamaica (that matters) is here.” Us and Them. It informs the dispensing of justice, provision of health care, why some things happen in some communities and not in others. “Us and Them”. As long as those with means continue to pretend as if Those Others don’t exist, the chasm between Us and Them will grow wider. Then guess what happens…Resentment foments. Decisions are compromised by conditions conducive for The Next WillingNigger.  Us and Them. 
Diner en Blanc was never an issue. It is the thinking, betrayed in a relaxed moment, perhaps shared by others there that illustrates Jamaica’s fundamental issue.

Dis ya Jamaica? People mortgaging themselves to the hilt to drive the right car, while living in rented accommodations. People who beg in secret for invitations to the Right Occasions. People racking up debt to look the part. People making these choices simply because appearances matter so much in today’s Jamaica.

The bank’s corporate presence at Diner en Blanc illustrates another reality and underscores the point I am trying to make about decision making being driven by the importance of appearances rather than firm principle in support of growth and development. Fact: It is easier to get a $7M loan to buy one of Mr. New Car Dealer’s new It cars than it is to get $2M to retool a factory. 

Appearances > Productivity.

“All of Jamaica (that matters) is Here”. Stay woke, Jamaica. Remember the Tipping Point.  

Independence: Nothing more than a warm and fuzzy feeling at best. Remembering Tisha.

I’m sad. In 1962 Jamaicans were hopeful as we claimed our independence from Britain. It is 2015. Here we are. It makes the news when an eternally malfunctioning elevator at the public hospital in Kington is fixed. Horror stories, almost unbelievable, about the absence of basic medical supplies in the public health system become a daily fixture on radio talk shows.  Bombarded with one political scandal after another (think Trafigura, Cuban Light Bulb, Manat-Phillips-Phelps, Finsac, Tivoli incursion to name a few) our numbness renders us impassive to constitutional breeches that could have serious repercussions down the road. If you’ve ever been the position of having to find suitable hires, then I need not regale you with how the educational system has failed. We have had rehashed anti-crime programmes thrust upon us ad naseum, with nothing but rising crime, more sophisticated in its organisation. The generation before my own has failed, and I suspect that my own children will say that we have failed them too. We haven’t fought for better. We have tolerated mediocrity, and some of us have been complicit when it suited a personal agenda.

This morning I remembered Tisha*. Tisha was a HEART trainee with the organisation. She was quiet and diligent. She was well spoken and shy. One morning she brought some documents to my office for my signature. She greeted me with her quiet voice and pleasant smile. As I scanned the documents and signed, we began talking. I am a prober by nature. I stopped signing and sat back. She had caught my attention with her thoughtful, well constructed answers to my probing. It turned out that Tisha had 10 CSEC subjects, sciences included. Yet here she was, a filing clerk in a programme that demanded no more than 4 CSEC subjects.

“I wanted to go to 6th form to do A levels and then head on to University to do medicine. But my family couldn’t afford it. My father told me that it was time for me to get a job and do my part.” 

I probed further.

“I wanted to do medicine” she explained with a sad smile.

“So what is your plan B then?” I insisted.

Tisha was stumped. The notion of a plan, much less a plan B had never occurred to her.

“Listen” I said…”Med school may be out of your reach. Let me be honest with you. But that does not mean that you have to put all professional aspirations on hold. If I told you that you could go to University, but that you couldn’t do medicine, what would you do?”

“Accounts” she offered.

“Now we can plan!” I said excitedly.

“But I have to have A levels” she said worriedly.

“No, no, no! To do A levels now would add years and cost to your journey. Here’s what you can do: get out of this HEART internship and get a real job. Then apply to UTECH. Then apply for a student’s loan.”

We had the start of a plan. Every week I’d check with Tisha re: the job hunt. In about 2 months she told me that she had a firm offer that would pay her much more than the HEART position. I guided her with respect to the timing of the resignation from HEART. I took her to the Students Load Bureau and guided her application to UTECH.

Tisha moved on. I heard that she was doing a degree in Business Admin at UTECH and I rejoiced. Tisha had been suffering a double whammy: lack of resources and lack of guidance.

I ran into Tisha about 4 years later at the public library. We embraced, and then she introduced me to her toddler daughter shyly. I cut straight to to chase: “So did you finish your degree?”

“No” she replied softly, head down. “I had one more year to do, but I had to stop.”

I encouraged her to enquire about the possibility of doing it part-time, and of the need to marshal all her resources into completing that degree.

I never kept in touch. I hope her story ended well.

Free education was never really free. As a nation we never defined how education would be paid for. The result has been a diminishing quality of product year after year after year.

Decades after so called independence, our safety nets and support structures for a marginalized population are not at all robust. Our young lack opportunities and guidance. Independence bestowed a warm and fuzzy feeling. Not a thing more.

What next then?

I suspect that we will have to an about face for better to come. The current trajectory, be it green or orange will continue the descent into poverty, inequity and hopelessness.

*name changed

The Slave Trade, Maroons, Windscreen Wipers and Reparations: I want to know.

The white man was aided and abetted in getting us to this side of the world.  He went in with shiny baubles and found willing helpers all along the west coast of Africa. Slavery, we were taught, was not new in the motherland. Triumphant tribes dominated hapless members of the defeated tribe and put them to work. When pale skinned humans on huge boats showed up on Her shores, armed and heavy laden with trinkets, it would seem that our brothers thought little of handing their own conquests over to these strangers in exchange for bounty from the strangers.

Accurate representation of what happened in West Africa or not?

Those of us who survived the horror of the Middle Passage and the rough initiation into work and torture and rape and destruction of familial ties on the Pale Skinned’s  plantations were about to face yet another betrayal. Some intrepid warrior-slaves fled the plantations in Jamaica and headed for the hills. In that mountainous, beautiful terrain, communities of these braves lived and hid and warred with the British militia. Their survival was due in large part to their own skill at bush and jungle war craft. Legendary members of this mountain community live on today in poems and stories of their exploits: Tacky the Chieftain, Three Finger Jack and Nanny of the Maroons, herself a national hero of Jamaica.
Jamaican Maroons are often described as enslaved Africans and persons of noticeable African descent who ran away or escaped from their masters or owners to acquire and preserve their freedom.
But their survival was also due to agreements that they made with the British. These fearless braves secured their own survival at the expense of other runaway slaves who were seeking a way out of slavery and who also headed for the hills. They handed over these their brethren to the British as a peace offering.

What was the full story of the Maroons and their relationship with the British?

Consider too the story of another one of Jamaica’s national heroes, Paul Bogle. Paul Bogle led a protest against harsh economic conditions. He marched with a throng to the courthouse in Morant Bay. The British authorities of the day there panicked, responded with undue force, and it was at this stage that the protest morphed into a rebellion. Lives were lost in the upheaval. And the Maroons were the ones who captured Bogle and handed him over to the British. Paul Bogle was hanged the very next day.

Paul Bogle, National Hero

To be sure, there is great controversy today over Maroon history in Jamaica. I certainly do not have the answers.  And I am mindful of the absolutely true sentiment:“Until lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunter”. 

Still I ask: what role did our own really play in our history, in our enslavement by Europeans, in our forced journey to the west?

Any discussions about the evils of slavery and its reverberations right into 2015 society must contemplate this question. I do not pose this question in a bid to excuse the white man or to in any way diminish what he did. The white man was the architect of this evil scheme to enrich himself and his own homeland at the expense of the lives, culture and humanity of the peoples of Africa. But full resolution never happens outside of the anything the full truth. The truth in all its uncomfortable, awkward glory is what I seek.

We were heading towards Downtown Kingston yesterday, H and I. It was a rare occasion that found us traveling together to work. I had just dropped my own car at the dealer for servicing and he graciously consented to pick me up there and drop me to work. The courtesy shuttle offered by the dealer would have seen me getting to office perilously close to 9:30am when I had a scheduled meeting.  In the vicinity of Three Miles, the usual swarm of windscreen wipers made their way hungrily through the throttling cars in the traffic. Every single morning, I, the lone person, the lone female in my car tell them “NO”. They beg, they press up against my window, they beg some more, I keep saying “NO.” They approached H’s big, black, heavily tinted truck. He barely shook his head indicating no, he opened not his mouth, they didn’t miss a beat and kept moving right along. I cussed and railed. These windscreen wipers had obviously looked at my sex and my car and decided that they would try with all their might to extract money from me.  Their quest for money was not based on the principle of  “I need, they all have, let me beg all.” Their quest for money was selective, based on who they perceived was a soft touch and who had money to give them.


Is the quest for reparations fair then? Peoples of African descent this side of the world justifiably seek reparations from former European slavers and colonisers, not unlike the Jews seeking (and getting) restitution from Germany as a result of the Holocaust. But without answers to the question of the role of our African brothers in Africa getting us onto the white man’s slave ships, and without answers to the role of the Maroons in our own history here in Jamaica, is our demand for reparations really based on principle? Are we merely going where we think the money is? 

Look, I don’t know the facts. There are people who have offered reasonable explanations about the role of Africans in the slave trade. I also know that Africa is not a country. But I think that political boundaries notwithstanding, there ought to be a natural unity amongst the black peoples of Africa. I also know that the Maroons were a source of trouble for the British slavers and colonizers, killing, marauding, burning and destabilizing the government and structures of the day. They also inspired many of their African brethren with their radical bravery and cunning against the establishment.

But, I am not convinced that we have answered head-on the question I posed earlier: what role did our own really play in our history, in our enslavement by Europeans, in our forced journey to the west?

I want to know.