Dear Editor,
I see that Guyanese are again impatient with President Irfaan Ali. Rains, floods, drainage; a hard shower and a bunch of Guyanese take aim at the president, work at softening him up. Whether such is deserved or not is none of my business, but there are a few words of counsel, more humbly akin to caution, for fellow citizens contemplating how to deal with their president.
I learned a long time now that when Mohamed Irfaan Ali utters a ten-word sentence, it is wise and safe to give him two as a courtesy to his office, and keep the remaining eight as a cushion for when things sour. Here’s an example. If he says that West Indies batter A made 100 runs, my advice to those who want to believe him is to take a zero for themselves as a precaution, and gift the other two digits to Guyana’s First Citizen to keep him happy. Since only a zero is involved, there shouldn’t be any complaint; no one loses anything – any value, or any face. I shouldn’t have to say that the scorekeepers have some adjustments to make, but since there is so little genuine accounting in Guyana, then few are the souls who should have any objection.
The leader promised a refurbished, revitalized and restored capital city. Capital, sir; just capital. In fact, President Ali’s vision is not for a restored GT, but one that’s marvelously better. To the unbelievers I have this to say: Rome wasn’t built in a day. Oh, and it took centuries before the Messiah put in an appearance. Then just recall what they did to him: hung a slab of timber around his shoulders, then nailed him to it. No good deed goes unpunished. The president is trying. Flooding can be overwhelming. It has been enduring. Those food boxes and empty bottles have to be thrown somewhere. The government will clean up. It does after Mash and whenever it has a splash, doesn’t it? Just be patient, tolerant, while you wade through a sea in the middle of GT.
I had to make some early morning rounds (no spying on the government, I assure one and all), and got the shock of my life. I found myself lifting my feet off the floor and rising off the seat, at the same time. Don’t ask how I managed to do so. But the water was that high, the area that dark, and where the drains ended and the roads began called for Sherlock Holmes, Eve Leary, and Interpol. Notwithstanding my own ordeal in the predawn hours, I urge giving the national leader some time to perform and produce. He has only been in charge for six years. It is unkind to demand that he fix what was allowed to grow for 60 years to the monstrous proportions of today. I implore citizens to give the president six months. Give him that benefit of doubt for a start. Should he prove to be more about heavy breathing and less about delivering, then I am ready to get out of the way, take away the benefit extended before; then let him hear, and be deafened, by the concentrated crescendo of accumulated doubt.
Listen up, folks. They say that there are Guyanese who hate the PPP. Not I, sire. I hate what they do. What they promise to deliver, and don’t. What they said that they will not do anymore (deception and corruption), and then turn up and do as merrily as before. I believe that President Ali is a leader of words and of deeds. I shall not pronounce on whether they are bright words or dark deeds; that has its own people. I can tell President Ali what he craves to hear. The problem is that I am allergic to both Pepto-Bismol and Tylenol.
My final piece of free consultation to Guyanese is to: a) tuck in their bellies, b) tighten their belts, and c) purchase a pair of Wellingtons (long boots), then pretend that they are in Patagonia. The weather forecast is for heavy skies and heavier rainfall, until April, that is. Stay dry and high, Guyanese.