Dear Editor,
March is the birth (1918) and death (1997) anniversary of Dr. Cheddi Jagan. From the diaspora, there are fond memories of the iconic leader – coming from the same village, Ankerville — and interacting with him multiple times at Freedom House, President’s Office and in New York.
He was a genuine leader, admired by everyone in the village of Port Mourant and supporters in the diaspora. He lived a very simple life in the village and in urban Bel Air. He was deeply connected to his roots of PM and supporters in other rural, sugar-producing villages and elsewhere. He engaged Guyanese and others whenever he visited America, with receiving welcome in meetings at City College, organised by Chuck Mohan and Prof Mathias. He is remembered as a pioneer and visionary, humble and hard-working. Many felt that no one can fill the shoes of Cheddi. They said they don’t know if there is anyone in politics that could rival him. Anywhere you travel, people said that Cheddi was one of the greatest leaders, incorruptible, caring and humble, and he will be so remembered. He had compassion for the poor and the farmers and working class, rarely observed anywhere. The public and the diaspora felt his death was a great loss to the country, leaving an un-fillable hole.
Growing up in Ankerville, I remember the Jagan’s small modest home, the place of worship in front (kutiya or mandir), the fruit trees in the large yard, and the cricket playground behind the fence at the back (where I played as did young Cheddi, Kanhai, Butcher, Solomon, among other greats decades earlier), the nearby four foot trench where I bathed regularly, the narrow sand and mud lanes from the main road to the Jagan’s home, the dirty drains one had to jump to get there, the lack of sewer and flush toilets, the lack of phone service, scarcity of running water and dependable electricity.
There was no electricity or potable water when Cheddi grew up in Ankerville; private generation of electricity came in 1960s and outlawed in 1976 when GEC came on board. The area didn’t see any noticeable change throughout the 20th century – long periods of blackouts and hardly any tap water, depending on rain procured in barrels. One would not believe a great person like Cheddi would emerge from Ankerville on the Corentyne under such conditions from which the statesman emerged to become an internationally respected academic and political giant. (There has been a lot of improvement over the last two decades though a lot more needs to be done especially with the narrow side-line dam being gradually eroded by the trench).
Cheddi was born to Jagan and Bachoni who came to Guyana as infants of indentured laborers in 1901 and got married (in Hindu rites) in Guyana producing Cheddi and several other siblings, the oldest being Uncle Oudit (as we youngsters called him) who was married to Aunty Janey. His elders and age mates or contemporaries remembered him as a vibrant, bright young man. Cheddi studied at RN Persaud’s private school (primary) and Rose Hall (secondary schooling) before moving to Queens College in Georgetown at age 15 to complete his high school on the advice of his school’s headmaster, an African Guyanese. He was brilliant in school and stood out among schoolmates. His childhood days were spent in Ankerville and neighbouring villages like Free Yard, Boundyard, Manager’s Compound, Portuguese Quarter, etc.
As a youngster, he played cricket and engaged in other forms of recreation with his cousins (Rampersaud’s), my father (Baldat) and my uncles and others in the village before he left for town (1933-35) and during his school breaks in studies. He worshipped with his mother, a devout Hindu, and other siblings at home, attended mandir and Hindu services (puja and katha) in the village. She also worshipped at the Peepal Tree in Boundyard and the Shivala Mandir on the Side-line dam. Young Cheddi had deep connections with village culture before going overseas.
Cheddi came from a relatively poor family, his father at first a cane cutter and then becoming a ‘driver’ (supervisor). His parents told him education was the route out of poverty. He left for the U.S. for dental studies in September 1936 when he was 18. After he returned from USA in October 1943, Cheddi lived and practiced dentistry in Georgetown. He entered the political arena and founded the PAC, trade unions, and PPP. He often returned to visit Port Mourant and meet old friends with whom he grew up. He supported his brothers and sisters and cousins and others to advance their education. He did not want anyone to be dependent but independent. He guided them to achieve educational success. He was among the earliest (if not the first) to leave Corentyne to study in Georgetown and abroad, to make something of himself, and returned as a nationalist to serve the nation. He was a wise man, who had helped many to get a tertiary education in the Soviet bloc. Although he excelled and decided to live in Georgetown, he never forgot from where he came, often returning to, and reminiscing growing up in Ankerville and playing with friends.
As a trade union and political leader, Cheddi frequented sugar worker villages all over the country, advocating for their social and economic advancement. As Chief Minister, Premier, and President, his focus was on developing communities, particularly in infrastructure, food production, health, and education so they can help to modernise and industrialise Guyana.
In my boyhood, I remember Cheddi frequenting Ankerville in his Russian Lada, and we ran behind the car as our hero had come. He would come to see his mother. He was always well-dressed, attired in shirt jac in Guyana and in NY. He always had meetings at the Kresh open spot and the Train Line, adjoining Miss Phoebe. I don’t recall Africans coming to PPP activities in Port Mourant except a few linked to the party. He would rail against America and imperialists. Often, there were black and white films on the Russian and Cuban revolutions and of ‘the good life’ in those countries and the east bloc. During his trips, he would urge people to come together on projects to uplift the community. A couple times, after extensive rainfall for days and flooding, the loss of livestock and with animals, people, and machineries often ‘fastened’ (got stuck) in deep mud on dirt streets, Cheddi visited Ankerville in a show of solidarity. He would appeal to owners of tractors and trailers to volunteer to grade the mud road and fetch dirt to fill holes. During his visits, he would stay at Swasi Deola’s home in Tain and got security from Whim police.
Whenever he came to Port Mourant, it was an emotional and joyous homecoming, heartwarming. Hundreds would gather to welcome their illustrious son and brother; they referred to his wife, Janet, as blue eye bhouji. He was always welcomed with flower malas or garlands, traditional ceremonies, Bhojpuri and bhajan singing, tassa and chautaal music, and intense excitement from villagers, a treatment received throughout Guyana — a mix of high admiration, personal affection, and celebratory fanfare, reflecting a warm, personal connection that transcended formal politics.
There is much more to be said about my encounters with him in NY before and after he became President and in Guyana.