Monday, 7 July 2025

A CHILD'S LIFE

watch?v=n1yfrziImks
This youtube has nothing to do with me. However, the contents of CHAPTER 6 was researched on May29, 2025.
Chapter 6

Wismar

May 29, 2024. Politics 101, Opposition Leader Aubrey Norton speaks. I was talking with some people, and I said to them, “You know, there was no Linden, no Wismar Massacre.” They said, “What do you mean? We witnessed the Wismar Massacre.” I asked, “How many people died?”

They said they thought about 50, of which two or three persons, not all three, were related to the disturbances. But the government and certain entities created a perception that there was a massacre of Indians in Linden, which is not true.”

I contemplated his words for several minutes. How could a leader in Guyanese politics arrive at such a conclusion when he was a resident of Christiansburg?

The headline read, ‘Mass evacuation of 1,600 refugees from up-river areas.’ The actual count was 2,400 Indians displaced by the incident in Wismar and Christiansburg, where the trauma of rape and arson was like that of a war-torn zone. In this place, tragedies occurred.

Indians who came for a better life met with strife, encouraged by the political elites of the bygone era. It is remembered as the ‘Wismar Massacre.’

Wismar was the place to be, as lucrative jobs attracted those who were willing to relocate. People were doing great, and life was good. Some Indian communities never forgot the incident, as they arranged memorial services and reflected on their lives as employees of the Demerara Bauxite Company—a company that abandoned them in their hour of greatest need. They talked for hours about the lost businesses, houses, and properties left behind in Wismar.

Despite being caught in the middle of the Demerara River and the dense jungle, the company’s security staff never ventured out to quell the riots of looting, burning, rape, and drownings. It never compensated the employees for their businesses and homes, all occupied in no short time by the rioters and looters.

This incident never disappeared from the minds of Indians and is discussed on social media regularly. A Guyanese professor interviewed several of the victims he located from photographs of the incident as the victims were transported by boat downriver from the Mackenzie Stelling to Sproston Wharf in the city.

The international press reported on the mayhem in Wismar as it occurred in May 1964. Recently, an article in the Stabroek News reminded us—New York Times, Wednesday, May 27, 1964: “East Indians flee race violence in British Guiana mining area.” New York Times again: Thursday, May 28, 1964, “Official accuses police in British Guiana.”

Time Magazine: “British Guiana race war.”

Newsweek Magazine, June 5, 1964: “Politics of violence.”

June 8, 1964. Chroniclers of the massacre wrote, “It all began on Sunday, May 24, and concluded on Tuesday, May 26. During the 38 hours of terror, inciting incidents and massacres, a number of Indo-Guyanese homes were set on fire or bombed. The mob of British Guianese of African ancestry armed with cutlasses, paling stave, gas bombs, and guns burnt and destroyed some 230 homes and businesses owned by the Indians. Several Africans offered shelter to people and families, only to be threatened by the large African mob. For the few Africans who matched the mob’s rhetoric, the Indians were safe under their protection. Those who were turned away were confronted and beaten by the frenzied mob yelling “kill the coolies.”

The only escape was the nearby forests. Even in the forest, the Africans hunted the Indians. The Georgetown group, which was leading the mob, was determined to kill the coolies. The rioters knew their leaders by name. The information shared by the professor doing the research on the incident revealed that the chief operative was known as Bangamary. Just a few weeks before the opposition leader expressed his opinion on the Wismar Riots, a commentator on YouTube was boastful about the character Bangamary.

The reason behind the deep resentment of the Afro population toward the Indians is still a mystery to both groups of the regular Guyanese. As the two river ferries approached the wharf in Georgetown, the refugees on board were reluctant to disembark. On the wharf was the police force, some Indians, and a few Afros. They were booing and jeering and while some of them, allegedly Afros, hurled bricks at the ferries on the wharf. The Police Force and the Volunteer Force, under the supervision of the Colonials in Wismar, paid no heed to the atrocities committed against the refugees. Trauma rekindled and awakened the spirit of fear among the children on board the ferries.

Sugar, the cultivation of this New World crop, has been the reason why British Guiana was settled by six different groups or races of people. But now, sugar was manufactured by a much larger workforce. Up to emancipation, 70,000 Africans were in it. By 1917, the British had indentured 239,000 Indians in the industry.

On February 17, 1964, GAWU organized a strike in the sugar industry and demanded recognition from the Guiana Agricultural Workers Union.

On March 4, 1964, two men—one Indian and an African—were killed in a bus bombing in the predominantly Indian enclave of Tain, Port Mourant, Corentyne. A lone African family that lived in the Indian community was afraid and hurriedly abandoned their house. This became a common occurrence in the neighboring villages as people, both the Indians and Africans, abandoned the homes they had lived in for many years throughout the coastland. At Port Mourant, a prominent African senior staff member with the Sugar Company was hurriedly transferred to another Sugar Factory over rumors that the bomb hurled at the bus, killing the two men, was made by two African men.

The events were like an omen released from Pandora’s Box; once set in motion, they became out of control with demonic consequences. An African strikebreaker accidentally ran over an Indian female from Leonora Sugar Estate on March 6, 1964.

The new Governor assigned to the colony, Sir Richard Edmonds Luyt, was sworn in on March 7, 1964.

The events kept building up.

“So far, our strike has been partial,” said Jagan, a union leader, on March 13, 1964. “From now on, it is a general strike.”

On May 20, 1964, a pandit died in a bombing of his home.

The following day, May 21, 1964, an Afro couple was found murdered in the backlands of East Coast, Demerara.

The governor declared a state of emergency on May 22, 1964, and requested British troops to be deployed in British Guiana. The governor, new to the colony, would have had a dossier on the politics prepared by his predecessor. Perhaps the governor received an intelligence report of a planned reprisal for the death of the Afro couple but was unable to act in a timely manner to prevent the riots that followed. He must also be aware of the widespread rumors of the X-13 Plan.

As 450 British troops were arriving in Georgetown between May 24 and 26, 1964, 65 miles away in the mining town of Mackenzie, carnage was taking place. Later, documented experiences in several publications relayed the horror.

One family was confronted by a large roaming gang. The woman was beaten unconscious, and the man knifed repeatedly while the children watched in horror.

In another incident, a woman was repeatedly raped and subjected to drowning to the point of death. An Afro-women in the mob urged the men to rape the woman again. The men pulled the woman out of the water and raped her again. Only heaven would know how many times that ordeal took place. During those hours in Mackenzie, the demons freed by Lucifer, according to the Book of Enoch, were ecstatic as they indwelled the souls of God’s creation—the rioting mob in Wismar. Their hearts were filled with violence.

Hundreds more were brutally beaten, and many more women and girls were raped, some more than once. Only eight women were documented to have been raped, but it is likely that this number was much higher, and many chose not to come forward due to social repercussions that were associated with rape.

Burnt bodies were found. It was assumed that the poor souls were burnt alive during the mayhem, confusion, and the desire to escape the horror.

Decapitation was also evident from a body recovered from the area. The sounds of groaning were loud as they drifted out of the parapets, drains, and shallow trenches from people injured by gunshots, stabbings, and hammer indents to the skulls and bones. Bodies were mutilated by beatings with paling staves and fire, and female genitals were violated by foreign objects.

Wismar was enough evidence to conclude there had to be a plan of terror. Planned, orchestrated, and executed by the gods of hate from their high places. Inflict pain upon a particular group, the Indians, supporters of the Communist PPP. It was the Cold War. No nation escaped the era of tensions between the United States of America and the Soviet Union. Subversive actions played out among the native peoples of the world in the interests of American values. In 1964, British Guiana was caught in it. There was chaos as people were terrified and fearful.

Fight Against Communism

At a time when the White Tribes had had their two major wars, they were to be civilized and generous to all the natives, having dominated since 1763 under empires.

In British Guiana, slavery and indentureship had nurtured a nation of people with resentment among themselves and the baccra man. And two of the colony’s sons would ignite the desire to be free of British rule. One is the African, L.F.S. Burnham, and the other is C.B. Jagan, an East Indian. These young men most likely made their ethnic communities proud of them. They were Queens College graduates aiming for higher education in places that dominated the world. After graduating in their respective professions in America and Britain, they returned to British Guiana. Unlike the Coloreds, Negroes, Portuguese, and East Indians who made the same effort decades before and onwards returned as the colonials of British Guiana.

These two sons of British Guiana were different; they were not colonials. They returned to the colony with foreign ideologies and a whole lot of isms in the endings. Communism was the one they shared; it dealt with class struggles in the colony. Their brief success in 1953 was a fragile one; it had the grouping of moderates and extremists and the possible emergence of a Soviet satellite in the American sphere.

An unpopular trend for the American administration would unleash the Central Intelligence Agency in British Guiana. Their subversive exploits would be the same as those used on Iran’s Mohammad Mossadegh in August 1953. Declassified files revealed the British government requesting the intervention of the CIA in Iran’s politics. The Iranian oil industry was nationalized by the Iranian prime minister. Riots in the streets of Tehran were orchestrated as per the CIA’s Operation Ajax and contributed to Iran's destabilization as per British Intelligence Operation Boot.

For the colony of British Guiana, the communist alarm was raised in 1950 and addressed by mild persuasions. The American administration had sought the approval of the British government to be operatives in the colony. They began with the aerated soft drink bottling company of D'Aguiar Imperial House (DIH). The DIH trucks would arrive in Rosignol in the evening, pull in at the playfield, and set up the film projector. The villagers would assemble and watch the film. It was always the same kind of story—soldiers with guns harassing men, women, and children. They were all white people in the movie. After the film, they would hand out illustrated books with a storyline similar to the children’s. The grown-ups were given pamphlets describing the ills of communism. The CIA had identified a willing partner in DIH, fostering their campaign against the communists in British Guiana.

The election of the PPP in 1953 and its disastrous attempts to govern as a government with limited powers resulted in the suspension of the Constitution. Many of its activists were restricted as political detainees. And the CIA began the work of sowing discontent among the moderates and extremists in the party. The separation was the Burnhamite PPP and the Jaganite PPP, known to the Guianese people as “The Split.” The year 1955 saw the beginning of race politics, racial disturbances in ethnic cleansing and a massacre, rigged elections, and the denial of democracy. These events gradually unfolded in the colony, orchestrated by an authored document, the X-13 Plan—believed to be the CIA code name for its destabilization of communists in British Guiana.

Like Iran, the files detailing British Intelligence Reports of the Jagans-Soviet dialogues were disclosed. Typical of the CIA, bribery was the inducer to divide or separate, as recorded in the declassified files.

Forbes Burnham was the likely candidate with a mass following of Afro-Guianese. Peter D’Aguiar was already on board with the CIA, along with several East Indians and other racialized Guianese. Some Colored people openly cast doubts on the Jagan-Burnham collaborations, expressing their dissatisfaction with Indians entering the politics of the colony quite late. Forbes Burnham did what he could to marginalize the Indians of British Guiana with the help of the CIA and the United Force, Peter D’Aguiar’s political party. Just as in Tehran, Georgetown already had the bribed subversives waiting for the commands of the Guianese operatives working with the CIA.

During British Guiana in the mid-1950s, Afro-Guianese people were educated and held many key positions in society. Their political views were like those of the African people in the Caribbean. They wrote for the newspaper, wrote books on history and novels, and expressed their opinions to the editor. They shared a common point of view—upholding democratic principles, freedom of speech, and a strong allegiance to the Queen of England. They were proud of the African values worldwide and were very much aware of the plight of the American negros. The writings of Marcus Garvey, a long time ago, still influenced many. Contrary to African views, Forbes Burnham embraced American foreign policies, chose the role of a paid dictator, and suppressed freedom of speech with arrogance, which can be seen today on YouTube.

In America and South Africa, the black man was treated with malice, and Forbes Burnham stood with White America's C.I.A. X-13 Plan against the Indians, ignorant of the perils that were embraced by Cheddie Jagan.

There was a plan to remove the PPP from elected office at all costs. Declassified documents stated who was paid and how much. From 1955, it was a concentrated effort to sway the votes of the Indian population in the colony. They never swayed from their support for the PPP. Approximately nine years later, on May 23, 1964, the Wismar Massacre unfolded during the time when the governorship of the colony was in transition, and the Jagan government was incapable of enforcing its authority. And the anti-Indian sentiments delivered its message in the riots, rapes, fire, and carnage. The coverage in the newspapers stated, “Two steamers arrived with the refugees. They disembarked, and about 300 found shelter with relatives in the city and neighboring villages. The remaining refugees were housed in the pier warehouse in the city. Helpers assisted them as they collapsed on the concrete floor, unable to wait for the tarpaulins and rice bags to be spread as bedding. Shocked at the injuries, medical personnel hurriedly took away the children and the injured to makeshift clinics for treatment. A factory in the city was set up as a shelter to relieve the crowding of the warehouse.”

In the book ‘The West on Trial,’ Jagan mentioned the Kurmi caste of his parents. Casteism in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh was enforced for several thousand years and adhered to, with surveillance of the practices of the Shudras and the Dalits. The Dalits were considered outside of the caste system as the Untouchables. The Kurmi caste had always insisted that a long time ago, they were fighters alongside the kings of ancient India, and they protested their Shudra classification. They were Kshatriyas, the warrior caste, generations of strategists for thousands of years.

The British, Americans, and internal forces had declared quiet conflicts between C.B. Jagan and his PPP. Home Affairs Minister Janet Jagan resigned on June 1, 1964. People grew fearful throughout the coastal belt, and propaganda stoked villagers and villages against each other.

In the region of West Berbice, wooden structures rose to the sky, several feet high, and watch towers in Indian villages with manned lookouts. Inciting propaganda inflamed the attitudes of the descendants of Africans and Indians. Skirmishes increased in Indian and African villages. The British Army was dispatched to the region.

Immediately, they searched every Indian home and confiscated any object deemed as a possible weapon. It was a house-to-house search in Bath Settlement and Bush Lot. Indians protested for being unprotected. It was obvious from the conduct of the exercises that the intent was to render the Indians helpless.

African villages were spared the harassment of surrendering their weapons.

Dynamiting was a common form of destruction of property throughout the colony. Yet, the British Army was not concerned about it.

At Blairmont Sugar Factory, we were busy carrying out our tasks when we were instructed to return to the Machine Shop.

When I arrived at the building, British soldiers were everywhere in full battle gear. We were asked to open our toolboxes and locked drawers. All Indian tradesmen’s tools were carefully examined, while Africans’ tools were just glanced over.

Several Indian merchants had a few pieces of pipe among their tools. They suffered interrogation with the greatest fear as they were asked whether they knew how to make a pipe bomb.

It was a time of great suspicion in the colony, and I grew fearful that my father’s name might be called, as he was an accused terrorist among the 1953 political detainees.

At Blairmont, many times, an African and an Indian were assigned to work on a project. In the future, from that day, the African tradespeople never shared knowledge of repairing the sugar machinery, which they learned from their fathers and grandfathers.

There was a deliberate plan to neutralize the PPP from Guianese politics. Then, 32 members of the PPP were detained on the order of Governor Luyt on June 13, 1964.

A request by C.B. Jagan on June 15, 1964, for the UN Secretary-General to intervene was objected to by the British government. There were daily accusations of reprisals. Then, a significant event in comparison to the Wismar Massacre occurred—the Son Chapman tragedy. The Son Chapman was a ferry launched between the City and Mackenzie on the Demerara River, which was blown up. Forty-three Afro-Guianese died in the explosion on July 6, 1964.

Immediately, riots broke out again in Wismar, and Indians were sought as possible sacrifices for the heinous act on the Demerara River. The Indians who had survived the May 26, 1964, mayhem in Wismar and Christiansburg evacuated, but some returned to their jobs at the Demerara Bauxite Company. Unfortunately, five Indians were killed by a grieving mob of Afro-Guyanese.

Many years later, in Linden, a large plaque displayed the names of 43 individuals. The heading read, “Son Chapman Martyrs.” It gives us a message: “Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.”

It is the reminder that stirs up the souls of the Indians, “why the ignoring of the Wismar Massacre?”

And every year on July 6, much is revived in words to the editors of Stabroek and Kaieteur News. Letters would detail the incidents that caused the Wismar Massacre. One letter mentioned the Maichony disturbances—“An Afro youth was fished out of the Creek with his private’s cut-off, he was castrated, and his body wrapped in barbed wire.” According to the writer, the news reached Mackenzie a few days later.

Mackenzie had been the place where many people migrated due to the lucrative pay and work, though it was in the heart of the jungle. They had friends and relatives on the coast who were attacked by East Indians.

The words of the messenger stirred the hearts of the men and women of Mackenzie, and they got angry at the non-native people.

Another letter stated, “It was the killing of the Sealeys on the coast that was used by a member of the Wismar Community to enrage the entire region of Mackenzie. There has been a silence on the Wismar Massacre, even though the incident has been queried at high levels.”

An explanation came in the barrage of rhetoric. An activist proudly stated, “Some things are better left unsaid.” Perhaps he was overwhelmed by the accounts of the horrific things that the victims endured.

With the assault on citizens, people being killed, families being displaced, buildings being set on fire, and the possibility of being beaten, traveling through Indian and African villages became a nightmare. On July 17, 1964, one death was notable when the headquarters of the PPP in Georgetown was bombed.

The CIA and British Intelligence were in control of their contractors—the colony’s political agencies, business owners, and subversive activism within the political parties in opposition to the Communist PPP. Determined to demonstrate their might in the colony, the PPP, through its controlled union, GAWU, called for the sugar workers to go on a strike on July 25, 1964.

The disturbances of 1964 took 186 lives, and some 15,000 individuals were displaced between March 4 and August 29, 1964. Parliamentary elections on December 7, 1964, were orchestrated to fulfill the desires of the American administration, with the PNC and the United Force forming a coalition of 29 seats to PPP’s 24 seats. Like all things in life, the Almighty does leave us remnants.

In the case of British Guiana, three men are still living today as elders of their communities, one associated with the PPP, the other with the PNC, and one with the United Force. If they are truthful to the nation, they could help the healing process.

Today, there is much talk of ethnic tensions again.

In the Wismar Massacre, those tensions were created by foreign forces operating in the country, capitalizing on the ethnic divide. Indeed, political parties are still aligned along ethnic lines and continue to influence politics and society.

The Wismar Massacre remains a significant and tragic event in Guyana’s history, symbolizing the destructive potential of ethnic and political conflict. When the Indian women volunteering at the Ruimveldt Industrial Complex saw the children and women exiting the buses, they cried uncontrollably. The refugees were transported by bus from the Sproston Wharf to the Ruimveldt Industrial Complex, where they were housed temporarily.

The rioters had taken the time to cut off the long hair of females. This act was a practice in Europe during their two wars—when a female enemy was caught, her hair would be cut off close to the scalp. Interestingly, the Afro rioters were disciplined enough to carry out this CIA directive. The atmosphere at the Ruimveldt complex was one of great sadness and compassion as the Indians banded together and provided meals and comfort for the victims.

The leadership of the PPP had once again witnessed the tragedies against the Indians. The Enmore Martyrs at least had the tears of Cheddie Jagan and remembered every year as they had shed their blood for the PPP. Wismar was an unfortunate incident, never spoken of or mentioned by Jagan. A worthy sacrifice for the ideals of the Communist PPP, very much aware of the consequences if the party principles adhered to communism.

The CIA dealt with communism using the same playbook wherever it needed to be rooted out. And for nine years, the Jagans ignored the American determination, from 1955 to 1964. In ‘The West on Trial,’ Dr. Jagan said that there was no rebel like him in his family. As is typical of Indians, gods are easily made, and Jagan occupies the same space as their garlanded gods. The Rebel Warrior knew his soldiers. In British Guiana, every indentured servant, his sons, and his daughters were associated with the sugar industry, the most significant labor force in the colony.

The GAWU became necessary for communism to have a foothold in British Guiana. It was Jagan’s army that suffered casualties with the Enmore Martyrs in 1947. In 1953, the PPP government abandoned the ministries of Her Majesty the Queen and called an illegal strike in the sugar industry.

The Constitution was suspended for its recklessness. In 1964, agitation with the GAWU revealed to the C.I.A. that Indians were really Jagan’s army.

Wismar Massacre never dissuaded his communist ideals for British Guiana.

Jagan continued his “Class Struggle” in the colony, encompassing all ethnic groups. He was so determined in his communist aspirations that he failed to recognize the achievements of the Indo group. In the 1950s, Indians were moving out into the villages and settlements neighboring the sugar estates.

Their children were educated and competing for jobs—teaching, health services, and civil services—once held by the Afro group. Indians have been going abroad for education as early as the late 1800s and returning as colonials in the fields of medicine, engineering, and law.

In the colony, Indians entered business ventures in car hire, bus, and truck services. Goods and farm produce were transported throughout the country. Import and export businesses increased among the Indians. Sawmills were set up and provided material for trades. Supply stores were everywhere.

The Portuguese group was exclusive, providing all the amenities to entertain themselves. They expressed their status with discriminating body posture as a language. Jagan should have paid attention to D’Aguiar’s posture whenever they were in the same company.

The Afro-Guianese, who left plantation life for the city, resided in tenements and tenement yards. The Coloreds lived in the well-kept environs of the city; white picket fences separated their yards. Different bougainvillea bracts contrasted the white-painted wooden buildings with glass-paned windows shielded by Demerara shutters. They prided themselves on having white people’s blood regardless of their complexion; they could be as black as a Sudanese but still sought Colored status. They were similar to the Anglo Indians, who had White blood, claiming the bloodline regardless of how much of an Indian they looked. In the rural parts of the colony, the predominantly African and Indian lives were somewhat similar in terms of earning a living. However, in urban areas, making a living was complicated by prejudices and class. This exposure influenced Jagan’s crusade of the “Class Struggle.”

For the pure-blooded Africans, the Coloreds were referred to as Redman, tolerant of their shared African bloodline.

The Coloreds preferred the separation and created institutions to foster the differences in class with the League of Colored People and its political arm, the United Democratic Party, led by John Carter.

In the realignment of the colony’s Afro- and Indo-centric politics, the Coloreds had to choose. The emphasis of joining the PNC encountered some setbacks due to class struggles of the past, as the PNC was reluctant due to the history between the Africans and the Coloreds. With the participation of Black Caribbean intellectuals, the way was paved for the merger of the United Democratic Party and the PNC. On an earlier visit to British Guiana, Marcus Garvey was made aware of the class differences among this group of Guianese. And the seat of political power lay in Georgetown, the cosmopolitan city of class separation. The common Hindi word at the time, “Apaan Jhat” (to each his own), depicts the relationships of the city dwellers.

There was no public outcry on the Wismar Massacre; it happened to a separate group. The Indo-Guianese population of Wismar was effectively driven out and relocated to safer regions by the authorities. The British colonial government declared a state of emergency in response to the massacre. Curfews were imposed, and additional security forces were deployed to restore order. The government organized the evacuation of displaced Indo-Guyanese residents from Wismar. These efforts were aimed at providing immediate relief and preventing further loss of life.

The Son Chapman tragedy reprisal took five Indian lives, even with the British soldiers in control of Mackenzie.

The incident intensified ethnic tensions with long-lasting effects on the community dynamics in the region and the colony. It was a critical period in Guyana’s history, as the country was moving towards independence, achieved on May 26, 1966. Guyanese politics and society in the 58 years of its independence created a community of communities. Never pivoting after the end of communism, the PNC was abandoned, and Jagan won the following election. Guyana never healed from ethnic insecurities, capitalized by the C.I.A. in its crusade against the Indo-PPP.

The Wismar Massacre remains a significant and tragic event in Guyana’s history, symbolizing the destructive potential of ethnic and political conflict with challenges of nation-building and approaches to governance.

Inquiries and reports seeking to understand the causes and consequences of the violence highlighted the role of political manipulation and ethnic animosity in fueling the conflict. Like much of what is taking place today, the rhetoric emanated from the sons of the village of Buxton.

There were significant political ramifications back then for the Wismar Massacre, and now.

Efforts were made to hold those who were responsible for inciting and participating in the violence accountable. However, the effectiveness of these measures and the extent to which justice was achieved remain topics of historical analysis and debate. Survivor stories from the massacre provide personal and emotional insights into the tragic events and their aftermath.

It had been recounted how a young female and her family were forced to flee their home as it was set ablaze by a mob. She described the harrowing experience of escaping through a window and running through the streets amidst the chaos, seeking refuge with friends and neighbors. One individual shared his story of being attacked by a mob while trying to protect his family. He suffered severe injuries but managed to survive. His family was eventually evacuated by the authorities, and they were provided temporary shelter in a safer area. Another female recalled how her family hid in a neighbor’s house for several days before being rescued by the British Army. She described the fear and uncertainty they felt, not knowing if they would survive the ordeal. Her family lost their home and all their belongings in the violence.

A young boy remembered the night his family’s home was attacked. They barely escaped, hiding in the bush until it was safe to come out.

A young mother recounted how her family’s home was attacked late in the evening. She described the chaos as her family scrambled to escape, vividly remembering the fear in her children’s eyes and the smell of smoke as their house was set on fire. She and her family hid in a neighbor’s home until the violence had calmed down. She returned to her home to see that it was burnt to the ground.

A teenager recalled hearing rumors of a planned attack but hoped it wouldn’t reach his neighborhood. On the day of the massacre, he saw a mob approaching and quickly gathered his younger brothers and sisters and ran through backyards and alleyways, narrowly avoiding the mob. The forest was the only refuge for them. They were located and coaxed by the authorities to follow them out of the forest.

Many young women shared the experience of being separated from their families during the attack. They were stranded at the market all alone. They sought shelter among others who were also hiding from the mob. Unaware of the outcome of their families’ reunions, some were reunited with them at the evacuation center. An older man spoke about the sense of community that both helped and hindered during the massacre. He described how neighbors banded together to protect each other, but were overwhelmed by the sheer number of attackers.

He himself was beaten severely but survived due to the intervention of a brave neighbor who sheltered him and his family until they could be safely evacuated.

Fear and trauma audible in the screams, wailings, panting, and the sounds of sobbing echoed in the backyards and alleyways of Wismar, Christiansburg, and Mackenzie. The violence, as sudden and brutal, left lasting psychological scars—a loss of sense of security and community. Homes overlooked by the arsonists were appropriated by rioters, who took up residence in them. Later, they had the audacity to apply for rights to the properties.

The government’s neglect of rightful owners

As with all ethnic wars, the victor is rewarded. The Wismar Massacre of 1964 chased away the Indian community, and BILL NO. 9 OF 1971 was enacted.

GUYANA

TOWN OF CHRISTIANBURG/WISMAR/ MACKENZIE

(CHANGE OF NAME) BILL, 1971

An ACT to effect a change in the name of the Town of Christiansburg/Wismar/ Mackenzie and in the Town Council of the Town.

Enacted by the Parliament of Guyana as of 6^th March 1971.

This Bill seeks to make provision for the renaming of the Town of Christiansburg/Wismar/Mackenzie and of The Mayor and Town Council of the Town as The Town of Linden, and the Mayor and Town Council of Linden, respectively, as decided by the Town Council of the Town.

In honor of Prime Minister Linden Forbes Sampson Burnham.

The once progressive community over its history with the Demerara Bauxite Company endured repeated nationalized rhetoric for its nationalization. And in 1972, it happened.

Hardships for the Town of Linden were associated with political decisions.

Linden began a calm grumble, and the grumble took on the sounds of the groaning of neglect and of discontent. It was like May 25, 1964; everywhere, it was there—the groans of the community of Linden, inaudible but felt and endured.

Time progresses slowly for Linden.

Then, in 2014, the PNC came with the message, telling the people of Linden, “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”

It was the political kick-off speech of the 2015 General Elections, which was seen on YouTube the following day.

Interestingly, just the previous month, my Nigerian pastor preached on Ephesians 6:12.

African pastors are really mentors; they are efficient, and the messages they preach, even though heard many times before in other churches, have insights that are missed. And their prayers declare the “Holy Ghost” beseeching Holy Ghost Fire on all requests of the Lord.

Before the sermon, he recounted his Saturday Tract Distribution in the city. He talked of the need to proselytize the community and be prepared for persecution. Then, he said, “I handed a Whiteman a tract, and he slapped my hand away and told me to fuck off.” The mainly African congregation was hushed, as if unaware of what he had said, apart from Brother Bertrand and me. We heard him. I wasn’t stunned or surprised; it was only a word.

As soon as the church service ended, I headed to the parking lot. Followed closely by Brother Bertrand.

Once in the parking lot, he said, “Brother Persaud, you heard the Pastor cuss on the pulpit.”

“Yes,” I said.

Betrand replied, “I was stunned.”

“I wasn’t; it is only a word.”

“Bhai, you are way too liberal, you know,” Bertrand gave a snappy reply.

It was quiet between us as we continued walking toward our vehicles in the parking lot. Then, he asked in an enquiring tone, “Brother Persaud, are you following the elections in Guyana?”

“Yes, I am interested again after a long time. An army chap who believes in Christ is running for the Presidency.”

“Yes, David Granger,” Bertrand added, saying, “I used to follow Dr. Faith Harding when she ran for the leadership of the People’s National Congress. However, she complained about Congress and the elections and resigned from the Executive Committee. Since then, I stopped.”

“Granger is the answer to the generations of prayers,” I commented, adding, “He openly prays … that is a deep commitment to his faith. The country longs for such a leader.”

Bertrand agreed, nodding, “Yes, brother, so many prejudices in that country. I was working at Wismar when that thing happened. It wasn't good. People were in the drains and trenches, groaning from the licks. No one dared to help them.”

“About two years ago, the town remembered the Son Chapman people and completely downplayed the Wismar Massacre in the commemoration events in Linden,” I commented as we headed to our cars.

That Sunday, the Pastor spoke of his recent experience on the street.

“That Whiteman is not to be blamed for his behavior. God did not create man with such a spirit, but in denying the saving blood of Christ in his life, the demonic spirit, which is everywhere, has found a place in him. If you could see what surrounds you, you would see the demons in the principalities. Before the coming of Christ, it was the Archangels that petitioned God for the forgiveness of man’s sins as Lucifer laid accusations against man in the realm of God. An unsatisfied Lucifer then released the demons that were locked away in a distant galaxy. And he brought the demons down to Earth so that mankind would be overwhelmed with sin. But the Blood of Christ is the way out of the reaches of demonic forces, the darkness of the world.”

The famous verse, Ephesians 6:12 describes the spiritual battle that exists in the lives of humankind. First, Paul affirms our battle is indeed spiritual, not physical. The enemies we face, ultimately, are influenced by the wickedness of the demonic spirits. Only regeneration will solve Guyana’s fundamental problems. To educate an evil mind will only make evil more effective. Improving only the environment will not fundamentally change the country because the State is left to its own devices. We remain in the dark, deep despair. This is the essence of the Guyanese dilemma. We cannot deal with the problems of society without addressing the nature of the Guyanese citizens, quite unlike today, where every Afro-Guyanese commentator is of the opinion that the oil revenues should be distributed to their community for unpaid work done during the days of African slavery. Getting this money will resolve all the issues in Guyanese society. It is the wrong thinking.

The only time there was hope for Guyana was when the one-seat swing voters gave the APNU+AFC the elected government in 2015.

In the campaign coming up to the 2015 General Elections, I felt the adrenaline in me to be involved in a change in Guyana. I had been, in a small way, involved in the country’s independence movement in 1953. Immigrating to Canada in 1967, my interests were ignited as I watched on television the debates in the Canadian House of Commons, the fiery leadership of Real Caouette of the Socreds, and the National Social Credit Party. Powerful speeches by Tommy Douglas on Social and Welfare Reforms. Out in Newfoundland, Joey Smallwood would write his articles, walk down to the local post office, and tack up the page on the pamphlet board for Newfoundlanders to read.

Motivated, I was of Canadian ideals and freedom of speech. And I wrote to Stabroek News on the Alternative, The Third Force, and a Better Guyana. And when Kaiteur News became a publication, I wrote there too. My words failed to move the nations. And I became quiet.

But with the coalition of the APNU+AFC, I began to write again. Published on timehritoday.blogspot.com. Guyana’s Future … Starts Now.

Sunday, October 5, 2014, I published again.

The campaign of the APNU+AFC in Toronto just before the 2015 election was full of enthusiasm as the mainly Indian group made speeches in support of the coalition. Both party representatives sat quietly and listened.

The question was asked, “What happens if the PNC behaves as in the past and ignores the coalition partner?”

A senior member of the AFC stood up and answered, “We will take our members out and leave the coalition.”

And the APNU+AFC won the General Elections.

All the pomp and ceremonies of the inauguration demonstrated the assurances of a just and inclusive government.

That all changed quickly after the swearing-in rituals and the years that followed.

As feared, the PNC dominated the coalition and openly humiliated its coalition partner. The AFC never attempted to rein in the PNC leadership; instead of packing it up and opting out of the alliance, they remained quiet and endured the humiliation.

During the campaign in Toronto for the 2015 elections, Granger went around the room shaking hands with everyone. I attempted to tell him of the prayers that were said for Guyana over the decades. The moment slipped away as Nagamootoo and his entourage entered the room. There was a great commotion when the two men greeted each other with a handshake.

During the meeting, Granger smiled with a cordial demeanor. The entire room saw a bright future for Guyana.

But it wasn’t to be.

Ephesians 6:12, “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”

The blood of ethnicity was thicker than the Blood of Christ. Every spirit of unrighteousness came forth in the five-year mandate of the APNU+AFC government. The spirit of racism, the spirit of contempt, the spirit of election fraud, and countless other evils stacked up against the PNC, the main faction of the coalition.

“For we wrestle not against flesh and blood.”

There is a personal devil who governs a system to undermine the Christian life with his stratagems. What we deem political issues are often satanic and demonic problems. It is a question of the source of evil.

The armor in Psalm 91 was neglected.

Tuesday, 1 July 2025

THE GRASSROOT

Ladies and Gentlemen, Fellow Citizens,

In 1953, the people of this nation stood at a historic crossroads. One name echoed across the land — the People’s Progressive Party. But make no mistake: even then, the political stage was crowded. From Portuguese interest groups to elite Indian voices and Colored civic leaders, many sought to shape the future of a young and hopeful country.

It was a time when powerful figures rose.

L.F.S. Burnham — a master of words — captured the Afro-Guyanese vote with thunderous oratory.

C.B. Jagan — the tireless champion of workers — rallied the Indo-Guyanese with calls for justice and fair wages in the sugar belt.

But then came the split — 1955.

A political divide... that became an ethnic one.

And with that divide, the seeds of polarization took root. Still, new parties emerged, voices tried to rise, but for decades, two parties — PPP and PNC — have shaped the lives and futures of the Guyanese people.

Today, it is 2025.

Another election. Another cycle.

But this time, something is different.

This is not just a fight for power. This is a fight for the very soul of our democracy.

Today, we face more than candidates — we face the creeping shadow of authoritarianism. We are witnessing attempts to rewrite the rules, silence dissent, and erode the power of your vote — the one thing no government should ever take from its people.

This is not just an election — it is a reckoning.

And in this reckoning, you — the voter — are the most powerful force in the land.

Yes, there are whispers of fraud. Yes, there are fears of rigging.

But remember this: no fraud can defeat a united and determined people. No manipulation can silence a nation that chooses to speak with one voice.

So cast your vote not in fear — but in defiance.

Vote as if the future of Guyana depends on it — because it does.

Vote to protect your rights. Your voice. Your power to choose.

Because when democracy is under threat, silence is surrender — but action is resistance.

And your ballot... is your weapon.

Let us rise, not as divided factions, but as one people, under one flag, defending one future.

Let us rise — for Guyana.

Thank you.

Tuesday, 10 June 2025

THE INCLUSIVE GOVERNMENT OF 2025

January 7, 2015: The WORKING PEOPLES ALLIANCE -Revived

O’ Lord God Almighty, let not this solution be irrelevant.

For the country you have assigned for me, is troubled.

We find ourselves among the ungodly of the earth.

The fear of God and the statutes have gone from among us.

Let your power of love return to us.

O’Lord.

We know the PPP has all the chips in their hands. And we are but pawns.

We know the PNC/APNU is comfortable playing the waiting game-waiting for the demise of the PPP. Then steps in and take over the governance-unbridled.

We know the AFC is troubled-the danger of passing the mantle to the Peoples National Congress. The consequences of necessary actions.

Your people, the poor have no choices in these affairs. Decisions are made for them. Let the poor and the WPA have a conversation.

O’Lord you are heard is so many ways. Enlighten the minds.

It is necessary for the WPA to wake up from its slumber. If the WPA is truly a partner in the APNU then speak up. If the WPA is weak, then let me strengthen the WPA.

From Hilary Clinton’s speech when she announced her decision to enter the Presidential race. She quoted the words from another, “First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.”

This could very well happen to my plea for Re-Birth of the Working Peoples Alliance.

Another quote, “A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history.”

I believe, the WPA is the bridge to facilitate the PNC and the AFC. I am willing to raise finances for the voices within the Working Peoples Alliance to be heard.

Let not this plea be irrelevant.

Velutha Kuttapen

timehri@golden.net

www.timehritoday.blogspot.com

Ten years later I return to claim that divine request. Only to find the WORKING PEOPLE ALLIANCE infested with ungodly unrighteous rhetoric and the comments of those who supports such language against Indians.

I WILL NOT LET YOU HOLD BACK THE FUTURE.

Let it me be clear, Guyana is a multi-race country and TAP intends to make the electorate choose policies instead of ethnicity. It is the only way towards progress.

This time with TIMEHRI ACTION PARTY-the umbrella for SEVERAL SMALL PARTIES in the upcoming September 1, 2025 elections. The WPA will be purged of its rhetoric.

TAP will be an INCLUSIVE GOVERNMENT with the following members:

Ministry of AMERINDIAN AFFAIR- Headed by a body of Indigenous People.

Prime Minister-the PNC

Ministry of LOCAL GOVERNMENT- the AFC

Ministry of FOREIGN AFFAIRS- the PPP.

Chapter 10 The Gathering of Parliamentarians.

Today’s society is defined by lists. A Life List—mapping our dreams; a Bucket List—counting the moments before time slips away; and the Candidates List—granting entry into the hallowed halls of Parliament in Guyana.

But what of the names on that final list? Do they represent fresh, unburdened minds—young, untainted by the weight of history? Or do they carry the same old scars, the same inherited divisions? Once, Parliament stood as a temple of integrity, where voices of wisdom shaped the nation’s future. Now, integrity has fled, leaving behind echoes of broken promises and empty decorum.

If we are to rewrite the future, should we not begin with the list?

Recorded in our history, a Monday, October 11, 1834, at the stroke of noon, Damon was hanged before the public buildings—a grim spectacle meant to showcase the might of British justice. The scaffold, erected on its grounds, served as a chilling reminder to the free men and women of Georgetown of the consequences of defiance.

This was the newly established Seat of Power for British Guiana, inaugurated just months earlier on April 3, 1834—a symbol of imperial control where the fates of enslaved Africans and indentured Indians would be shaped to serve the colony’s interests.

Today, we stand shaken by the rhetoric echoing through this chamber—a place where the spirit of Damon still lingers, listening intently. He laid down his life for justice, for the promise of fairness. Quamina also sacrificed everything in the hope of a free and dignified nation. Yet, partisanship now drowns out the call for unity in this hall where their dreams should flourish.

Once a guardian of parliamentary law, the Speaker now bends its sacred principles to serve division. Such conduct does not go unnoticed—it stirs unrest, ignites frustration, and disrespects the very people this house was built to serve. Africans and Indians alike—brothers and sisters in the struggle—watch in dismay as the ideals of equity and respect slip through our grasp.

But change is on the horizon. The parliamentarians of the Timehri Action Party, will not stand idle. We are the voice of a new generation—young, brilliant, and unwavering. From all 65 electoral districts, we will rise, not for power, but for the promise of a Guyana that belongs to all.

Let me address the electorate.

Wednesday, 4 June 2025

TIMEHRI ACTION PARTY

TIMEHRI ACTION PARTY: A New Dawn for Guyana

The Timehri Action Party (TAP) emerges as a bold and unifying political movement, created to rally Guyanese at home and across the diaspora toward a shared vision of national renewal. As Guyana prepares for the September 1, 2025 National Elections, TAP offers a platform that transcends old divisions and speaks directly to the hopes and struggles of the people.

Our Vision

TAP was born out of a deep desire to provide real political solutions to the challenges facing Guyana today. Our movement opens the door for every Guyanese—no matter their background, social status, or location—to play an active role in shaping our nation’s future.

Our Core Aims

Empowering the Diaspora and Home-Based Guyanese: TAP offers every Guyanese—whether in Georgetown or New York, Berbice or London—the chance to contribute meaningfully to the political landscape. We believe that distance should never diminish one’s right to be part of national change.
Rising Without Political Strings: TAP believes that opportunity should never be tied to political allegiance. We aim to break the cycle of dependency and favoritism, allowing all citizens to rise based on merit, not connections.
Duties-Free Importation of Vehicles: A TAP government will introduce a five-year duty-free window for the importation of vehicles, helping families, businesses, and everyday Guyanese enjoy a better quality of life with greater mobility.
Grassroots Economic Empowerment: TAP is committed to creating a thriving, inclusive economy—one where the small farmer, street vendor, and young entrepreneur can prosper without obstacles, bureaucracy, or corruption.

The Literary Foundation of Our Movement

Our political journey is grounded in thought, scholarship, and history. Two books serve as the intellectual backbone of the Timehri Action Party:

📖 On the Sacred Rivers
This work confronts the difficult legacies of African slavery and Indian indentureship in British Guiana, challenging historical narratives and offering a powerful response to critics who deny the rightful place of Indians in Guyanese history. It is a book that bridges our past to our present, calling for unity rooted in truth.

📖 The Reformer President
This visionary book presents the blueprint for the kind of leadership Guyana needs—a leader of integrity, fairness, and vision. It is more than a story; it is a campaign manifesto, a call to action for all disillusioned Guyanese seeking hope, honesty, and good governance.

Proceeds from book sales directly fund TAP’s grassroots and regional campaign efforts, ensuring that this movement remains by the people and for the people.

Join the Movement. Reclaim the Nation.
On September 1, 2025, vote for progress. Vote for integrity. Vote Timehri Action Party.

MOHABIR PERSAUD.

CONTACT: timehri@golden.net

Wednesday, 28 May 2025

THE REFORMER PRESIDENT. A Novel soon to be available on Amazon.

CHAPTER ONE

THE COLONY – BRITISH GUIANA

April 20, 2024.

Opening the door, I stepped into the office. A lingering scent of Valentine's Day roses filled the air—a reminder that the cleaners had been thorough the night before. As always, they had done a splendid job. The cherry-colored wooden desk gleamed under the soft morning light, its polished surface reflecting a quiet elegance.

Atop the desk sat a telephone, a notepad, and a brass nameplate that read:

Mohabir Persaud, President.
Below, in bold engraving: SEIGNET PRECISION—a gift from my employees, years ago.

In the corner, the Lenovo computer waited in its usual place, silent and expectant.

I placed my A&W cup of tea onto a coaster—orange pekoe, the tea bag dipping in and out, barely staining the hot water. Just colored liquid, a morning ritual.

Flipping open the laptop, I went through the routine:
Click. Google.
Type: YouTube.

A cluster of videos appeared. One stood out as if waiting for me:

Dr. David Hinds – Politics 101: "African Guyanese Are People Too"
Panelists: Olive Sampson, Nigel Hughes, V. Alexander.

I clicked.

Immediately, the rhythmic pulse of calypso filled the room. I listened, letting the music carry me, waiting for the lyrics to unfold the story in melody.

Then, images flashed across the screen—figures of resilience, defiance, and history:

Maya Angelou. Barack Obama. Miriam Makeba. Walter Rodney. Eusi Kwayana. Dr. David Hinds. Martin Luther King Jr. Bob Marley. Malcolm X. Serena Williams. L.F.S. Burnham. Michelle Obama. Nelson Mandela. Dr. Letitia Wright.

Legends who had shaped history, each a testament to perseverance. They sought acceptance, not isolation; unity, not division. Their achievements were undeniable.

The discussion deepened. The panelists spoke of a forum in Geneva, Switzerland—part of the International Decade for People of African Descent (2015–2024).

My thoughts raced back to a phrase—one that has long haunted the uneasy conversations between Afro- and Indo-Guyanese. It surfaced again, uninvited, in the middle of another YouTube video, slipping through the speakers like a whispered curse. "Coolie greed."
The words hit with sudden force, sharp and familiar, sending a pang straight through my chest. Not just a slur, but a sediment of history—layered with suspicion, rivalry, and pain passed down like an heirloom neither side asked for.

A brand, a label—one meant to divide.

The moderator, measured but firm, kept circling back to another word: "Gripe." A reference to a letter published in the Guyana Current Newspaper.

And then, a statement that struck me:

"Guyana’s history did not begin in 1838."

I leaned forward.

British Guiana—its past had always been filtered through the lens of the planter class and the Victorian values of the Empire. After the First World War, British Guianese soldiers returned home with dreams of a reformed society, only to find the colony still firmly in the grip of its old hierarchy.

By the 1920s, Georgetown had evolved—its streets bustling with a mix of Negroes, Mulattos, Creoles, Europeans, Portuguese, and the rising population of Indentured Indians, many still bound to the sugar plantations.

Ivan Van Sertima, in his work, describes their presence in the city—Coolies, once scavengers, peddlers of fresh cow’s milk, eking out survival in a land that offered little beyond toil.

Yet, even in this rigid colonial world, a movement stirred. A class of educated Creoles had emerged—charismatic, articulate, and bold enough to engage the British government on the question of self-rule. A vision of modern governance began to take shape.

But then came the war.

And with it, the postponement of every dream.

By the time the Second World War ended, British Guiana was no longer a forgotten outpost. Second only to Jamaica in importance among Britain’s Caribbean holdings, the colony had grown rich—its wealth extracted through sugar, bauxite, rice, timber, and minerals, filling the pockets of British investors.

Then came the 1950s—an era of transition.

Affluence touched some. American influence crept in—shaping music, film, politics, and everyday life. A new identity was forming, shaped by forces far beyond our borders.

And in my novel, "In Our Past," I sought to capture it all.

The plantations of cotton, cocoa, coffee, and sugar carved out of the Wild Coast by the first European settlers gradually transformed into villages after the emancipation of Negro slaves in 1834. The emancipated citizens, determined to forge a future of their own, swiftly organized the affairs of their purchased lands—derelict plantations that they painstakingly revived. Sections were allotted for housing at the village fronts, while the backlands—later known as the backdam—were dedicated to farming. Each village appointed a manager from among its own, a leader who enforced ordinances drafted by the village elders. This was the genesis of the village council system. For decades, the enslaved had observed the methods of management implemented by the Baccras, and now, in freedom, they applied those lessons to their own governance.

Emancipation forever changed the colony, altering its social structure. No longer was it a land divided into plantation owners, native people, slaves, a few freed Negroes, Mulattoes, Creoles, and indentured white servants, each indifferent to the other. Instead, under Colonial Law, it was now a British colony of subjects—though status and class distinctions remained, and fairness was still elusive. The plantation owners retained their grip on the government, but the colony pressed forward, driven by infrastructure projects that gradually transformed it into a well-connected and structured society.

As the colony evolved over two generations, British Guiana was no longer an isolated settlement on the South American continent. Though under British rule, its cultural influences leaned heavily toward America. By 1950, the colony boasted an efficient railroad system stretching from Vreed-en-Hoop to Parika. The capital, Georgetown, became known as the garden city, with its magnificent wooden structures and avenues lined with towering trees, their twisting branches forming serpentine patterns against the sky. The rivers teemed with well-established ferry services, the roads hummed with reliable bus services, and law and order were upheld by a respectful colonial police force.

Traveling by train from Georgetown to Rosignol was more than a journey—it was an excursion, an adventure, a rhythm of life. The fifties were a golden era; the world seemed at peace, and British Guiana was no exception. A melting pot of cultures, its people were entertained by the sounds of American and English music, the songs of Hindi cinema, the wit of West Indian calypso, and the soulful resonance of steel pan. Cricket, the grand pastime, brought communities together every Sunday.

Rosignol, a village of mixed heritage, was a thrilling place to experience teenage years. Everything was a bundle of joy, even the simple act of trying to outrun the 11:00 a.m. train as it slowed to a halt at the station. The railway track paralleled the Atlantic Coast, winding through established villages and lush backdam farms abundant with banana, ochro, plantain, and cassava. The steam engine, hitched to its carriages, roared forward, trailing thick black smoke and the familiar scent of coal, steam, and wood.

The train’s conductor, an authoritative figure, walked through the first and third-class carriages, meticulously clipping tickets. He was a man of discipline, dressed in a starched khaki uniform, his hard khaki hat reminiscent of colonial officers. He carried himself with the weight of his responsibility, ensuring the journey remained smooth and orderly.

The railway system was a feat of colonial engineering—the first on the South American continent—operating under the Transport & Harbors Department. Most employees were Negroes, the backbone of a free labor force. The train was punctual, clean, and a source of immense pride for the men and women who kept it running. The tracks were laid in phases: from Georgetown to Plaisance in 1848, extended to Belfield in 1854, then to Mahaica in 1864. By 1900, the railway linked the Demerara and Berbice Rivers, binding the scattered settlements into a unified colony.

As the train journeyed on, station masters at each stop signaled its arrival with red and green flags, while eager vendors swarmed the platforms, their voices rising above the steam and clatter of wheels. Mahaica Station was the busiest hub, a place where train arrivals sparked a frenzy of commerce. Vendors wove through the crowd, thrusting mangoes, star apples, and sapodillas through open windows, their rhythmic cries of "Cheap! Cheap!" blending with the hum of excitement.

Amidst the bustling marketplace, a tall Negro woman glided gracefully down the platform, her voice a melodic chant that cut through the chaos: “Fish and bread! Get your fish and bread!” Balanced upon her head was a tray of jill loaves, crisp fried bangamary, and a small bottle of fiery homemade pepper sauce. With the deft hands of an artisan, she crafted sandwiches that left an unforgettable taste—six cents for a bite of legend.

Rosignol, the last stop before the ferry across the Berbice River, was a village both defined by and separate from the rest of the colony. Once a Dutch plantation, it had no grand structures like Victoria or Buxton, but it thrived in its uniqueness. Here, Negroes and Indians lived side by side, bound by respect, sometimes even referring to each other as cousins. The village had no cross streets, only dams leading toward the sea or the backlands. Life moved to a different rhythm in Rosignol—not dictated by clocks but by nature and industry. The first crow of a rooster marked the early morning, the train’s punctual arrival at 11:00 a.m. announced midday, and the high-pitched whistle of the Blairmont Sugar Factory signaled the afternoon.

Sundays in Rosignol were sacredly quiet. In the divine glow of the morning sun, the village seemed touched by the presence of something holy, as if the Lord Himself hovered in the golden light. Before noon, there were no games, no loud chatter—only peace. Cricket and other pastimes would wait until the afternoon, after the sacred hush of the morning hours had passed.

To the city folk of Georgetown, Rosignol was merely another stop along the railway. But to those who called it home, it was a world unto itself—its own small paradise, wrapped in the steady rhythm of the train, the scent of the river, and the voices of a community bound by time and tradition.

CHAPTER FOUR
THE DIASPORA
Guyanese diaspora is from persecuted communities, and they shrink themselves to specific locations around the globe. Considering always what occurred and what is occurring with strong nationalism outside the country. In September 1967, fifty-seven years ago, I immigrated to Ontario, Canada.
Guyana became an independent state on 26th May 1966 with L.F.S Burnham, the Prime Minister.
We had been decolonized through the period of Soviet political ideology. Within the corridors of White Hall, the Oval Office and the Kremlin, the people Guyana were pawns in the Cold War. And the British and American schemes deployed, was ethnic violence between the African Descendants and the Indian Descendants.
Nationalism was never the road traversed in that era.
We existed only, in the fight between two men. The Afro-Guyanese, L.F.S. Burnham and the Indo-Guyanese, Dr. C.B.Jagan. Dueling with propaganda drew blood, the blood of their respective ethnicities. Indians on Blacks and Blacks on Indians.
Now, both deceased, one as dust, cast to the wind and the other, in a crypt, bare bones.
But they are alive in the generations of Guyanese, in the homeland and in the diaspora.
They are evoked with the consequences of old hatred played out in village disturbances, city riots, massacre or ethnic cleansing of Wismar, the Son Chapman explosion, displacement and migration.
The stories commonly told in the diaspora are biased, either incomplete or wrong.
But to deny the diaspora their voices is to practice the politics that drove them to seek refuge in the first place in foreign lands. Surveillance, reminiscent of the Burnham/Jagan era, again sought out the victims, only this time it is in Brooklyn, New York.
It has happened in this diaspora of which I wrote about in my Blog, timehritoday.blogspot .com and now published here within these pages.
As, many diasporas are formed when people seek refuge. The desire of the Guyanese diaspora is to give back to their country. That's what frequently said of them when expressing disappointment and disillusionment on broken promises.
In Brooklyn, there is the notion of persecution.
How quickly businesses were singled out and registered for the boycott. When I viewed the video of the President's visit, I see a cordial group of people greeting a fellow Guyanese. That is the way Afro-Guyanese were in the nineteen fifties-respectful. Many times, it is stated by Black Activists of how respectful Black people were in a time long ago.
I saw a thriving community, with desires for a progressive Guyana.
The boycott was not necessary. This discrimination in Guyana stretches it arms to Brooklyn, USA.
We need to learn our history well enough for the sake of clarity.
Our history has been defined as Black history, Indian history and Portuguese history, but not the history of Guyana.
Recently, the People's Progressive Party held its Congress. Results of the Central Committee Elections is very troubling. It speaks volumes about the future leadership of the country. And we should all be concerned, the entire diaspora along with the home-based Guyanese.
It is important for the diaspora to participate and influence a change. As was the campaign for the 1992 free and fair elections.
Basically, the PPP has told the nation, that their Presidential Candidate is representative of the party selection process of Democratic Centralism. The political aspirations of the majority of the thirty-five Central Committee members are terminated. Persecuted if they dare to speak. We can safely predict who is going to be favored.
It is plain as in day clean.
The Opposition voters know, the PPP voting supporters have no interests in the future of the country.
Whenever the election is over, they are forgotten.
How can thirty-two men and women allow this to be perpetrated on them?
There is the lack of respect.
And likewise, there is the lack of respect for every ordinary citizen.
This contentious bold move on the part of the People's Progressive Party can give the People's National Congress an opportunity to be The Alternative, again.
This is where the Brooklyn diaspora group could influence the PNC by proposing progressive changes to win the upcoming general elections. The PNC must be creative to attract voters from the other side of the divide.
The 2015 elections, six thousand voters gave the APNU-AFC that one seat majority. In a country that voted along ethnic lines, Afros to the PNC and Indos to the PPP, there were six thousand Guyanese that voted with their conscience. With the one seat majority, the APNU-AFC behaved as though they were a monarchy. They held office, and that was it. Behaving with contempt towards the Opposition PPP.
And they tried to stay on as the government even after the no-confidence vote.
Then, the 2020 election was held.
As soon as the polls were closed, an event at the GECOM main gate demonstrated the intentions of the select group, stationed within the compound. Three elderly ladies and an elderly gentleman, all Afro-Guyanese approached the compound gate with a basket. Handing the basket to another younger Afro-Guyanese man. He accepted the basket over the gate, even though the lone Indo-Guyanese standing by the gate objected to it.
On top of his voice he lamented, "You all not supposed to do that."
They offered a reply, "It is dinner for the staff."
To which the Indian replied, "It is illegal to do that."
They continued in the act, ignoring the lone Indian at the gate as he continued to film the incident. Realizing they were being filmed, the elderly Afro gentleman moved over to the Indian and sprayed a liquid substance on him.
The Indian dodged the sprayed substance as he was chased away.
It is obvious, neither the PPP nor the PNC can trust each other. And each can only garner six thousand votes to slip in as the majority government.
This dilemma breathes continuous fear.
It is important for the Diaspora to contemplate their role in the governance of the country. Both the PPP and the PNC pays some lip service in great promises of the role of the diaspora. There is a government department set up for the diaspora. But it is only in its name.
The diaspora must be an independent body with a Secretariat in Georgetown. Their aim, to seek out united public opinions. A form of inclusiveness.
The upcoming congress of the PNC should take into consideration they cannot form a government with only the Afro-Guyanese voters. This must be discussed among the delegates at the congress. A specific approach and agreement towards the support of the Indo-Guyanese voters must be considered. And the diaspora attending must see the importance of that to bring about a progressive government in office.
The previous APNU-AFC government squandered that golden opportunity offered to them. The arrangement between the APNU and the AFC was a system of Appeasement to all citizens of Guyana. And as such it must have been the aspirations of six thousand voters to usher in a government of National Unity.
Their TRUST was not rewarded.
In my country, that gesture escapes our history. There were never any attempts to reward the citizens for their TRUST in the political system.
As ORDINARY citizens-Amerindian, Afro, Indo and the Others of Three Races, their votes empowered ordinary men and women into EXTRA-ORDINARY citizens. And they never returned the time of day to the voters-the majority who make ordinary citizens into the people who live in the clouds. As the gods. Looking down on mere mortals.
We are a people too entrenched in Racism. Divided and blind even to realize the harm we do to our individual progress.
The politicians of the People's National Congress in the early years implemented programs which was in line with the thinking of politicians of the People's Progressive Party. Back then, in the PNC days, those who were favored by the regime, did well. But they were only a few.
Today, the PPP is viewed as being worst, those who are favored by the Stalinist style government are only a few as well. It is pointed out to be fifty Indian families.
Whether it is a PNC leadership or a PPP leadership, the underlining factor for citizens, "You are denied JUSTICE. Criminality, criminals and crimes are your constant companion."
In 1992, one would think that Cheddie Jagan should have had the foresight to have a National Front Government. Because Guyana desperately needed one to get off the racist track. He talked about it. But the perks of having a PPP/C government was more rewarding for him personally. And his protégés care less for the well-being of the citizens. It is boastful to talk about free and fair elections of 1992. One could even say, after Independence, it was the first democratic elections. That moment should have been treasured. Because the ordinary citizen was permitted to freely choose. Even though the PPP got elected by the Indian vote, Cheddie Jagan should have rewarded every citizen for their trust.
The formation of a National Front Government.
He never did.
But today, that reality can still be made.
Citizens must engage fellow citizens. They must empower themselves. They must hold their leaders accountable-for men of power are easily swayed to do harm to their own citizens.
We have seen both the PPP and the PNC at work.
Indians must know, it wasn’t the ordinary Afro citizen that banned the food items and discriminate against them.
It was a PNC regime.
Afros must know, it is not the ordinary Indo citizen that discriminate against them.
It is the PPP.
Both the Afro and Indo need to pull together to help the Amerindians to develop.
The outburst of two female politicians have summed up the future of Guyana.
From the PPP came, "We know they doan like us." expressed by an Indo-Guyanese.
On the PNC side, "Murderers, murderers, why you think these people will vote for alyuh." a passionate query of the Indians confronted by the Afro-Guyanese.

The future looks bleak.
Honesty in Guyana is an irritant, an unwelcome guest at the table, for everything here is entangled in race. Still, I will speak without prejudice.
Race and culture stand as pillars before nationalism. It has always been so. Yet, in these times, the rhetoric from some prominent Afro-Guyanese voices suggests that governing the country is their right—regardless of their group comprising only about thirty percent of the population. This belief is not new. For seventy years, it has lingered like a restless ghost, passed down through generations. Many who held such convictions have long been received by the earth, their skulls now empty sockets staring blindly from their graves. Their bones, brittle with time, rest beneath the weight of unfulfilled dreams.
Imagine the knowledge buried there—the minds that once pulsed with wisdom, now silenced. They failed their fellow Guyanese. And yet, today, new voices emerge, repeating old words in new disguises.
History has taught us nothing. Seventy years of political struggle, and we remain prisoners of the same bitter lessons.
Mischievous old men whisper in eager ears.
We've heard their voices on the radio, emboldening APNU to trample laws and ignore the Constitution, urging them to govern without a mandate. In the streets, they preach to the loyal few, promising that the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of today will one day thank a leader who would dare to hijack an election.
A bold incitement, a reckless gamble.
Have we forgotten Wismar? Its riots left scars that history has refused to heal. Have we forgotten Son Chapman? The echoes of past tragedies are met with silence, as if guilt has never weighed upon the conscience of those who stood at the center of the storm.
But do most Afro-Guyanese share the views of those who shout the loudest on social media? I find it hard to believe. Those who call for division should be drowned out by voices of reason, not emboldened by silence.
At its core, this is about ownership and governance. If trust is forever absent, then perhaps Partition is the inevitable solution. Learned men have written of it before; the thought persists even now, lurking in the background of contemporary discourse.
The history of Afro-Guyanese is one of shifting seasons, cycles of hope and betrayal.
And here we stand today—May 26, 2024—fifty-eight years since the Union Jack was lowered and the Golden Arrowhead rose in its place. But where is the pride? Where is the joy of a people looking skyward as their flag dances in the wind? The national anthem barely stirs on the lips of its people.
I remember the Independence Movement, the speeches that filled the Rosignol Society Hall with fire and purpose. Back then, we had dreams. We had plans. We held the future in our hands, believing in the destiny we could carve for ourselves.
But today, the land cries out: "Tyranny of the Majority—by one parliamentary seat."
Fifty-eight years of squandered opportunities.
Fifty-eight years of wasted wealth.
Fifty-eight years of suffering.
Fifty-eight years of pain.
What have we become? What a nation.

Twenty-eight years of PNC.
Twenty-three years of PPP.
Five years of APNU-AFC
And currently the PPP again.
It is time for "The People's Movement."
A movement rooted in the Popular Will—the voice of the people, the heartbeat of the nation.
You and me.
Guyana needs a neutral force—one of calm spirits, one that rises above chaos and division.
Our leadership is in crisis. For too long, our country has been trapped in cycles of unrest, as if peace were never meant to be part of our destiny. Extremists have led us to a troubling crossroads, yet politicians only influence ten percent of our lives. The remaining ninety percent? That belongs to us—the people.
If you dream of better days, let us dream together. Let there be a citizen-driven response to the power plays of the elected and the selected few.
Don’t you deserve a place in this world?
If you were to immigrate, you would strive to build a life elsewhere. But why should you have to leave? That dream is possible right here, in Guyana.
Pause for a moment. Listen. Observe the voices around you. Feel the pulse of a divided nation. The spirit that dwells within all living things—the one that connects us to each other and to the divine—seems to have been lost by those in power.
Why the anger?
There is an alternative.
A calmer path. One that leads to a future of progress, not strife.
Imagine a society where our youth are guided with purpose, where they inherit a nation built on unity, not division. This land—this Guyana, the land of many waters—has the potential to flourish. Our fields can thrive, and our people can uplift not only themselves but also the impoverished beyond our borders.
This is the task of our youth, for the future is theirs.
A leap of faith is needed.
Hate leads nowhere. Hate begets hate.
Yet, the distance between hell and heaven is not so far.
Finding your place in this world is a beautiful thing.
Time, in its mysterious kindness, always returns to us the wisdom we once lost. Life is made of moments. Let this be the moment you choose a new path.
Speak the truth, and you will shame the devil.
Your thoughts, your words—God hears them. But thoughts alone are not enough. You must act. We all desire a peaceful, progressive, and tolerant nation. And there is more than enough for everyone, with extra to share with the world’s needy.
The goal is clear: Unite. Embrace differences. Create safety and security. Trust your government. Balance individualism with acceptance.
We must awaken the better angels of our nature.
The past walks in the footsteps of the present.
The power of this nation does not rest in the hands of the elite but in the hands of the impoverished. And yet, they fail to realize their strength. Perhaps they believe their one vote is insignificant. But collectively, their voices hold unimaginable power—the power to reshape society.
For decades, Guyanese people have faced the same dilemma. Every election, a new party emerges, promising solutions.
But this time, the answer is different.
This time, the answer is YOU.
God Bless.

Chapter 8 The Appeal

An appeal to the villagers of Buxton.

I first heard the name Buxton in 1952, when I was seven. Most children do not recall the first time they became aware of place names, but Buxton imprinted itself in my memory, standing apart like a landmark in time.

It was an era of political awakening—a time when British Guiana stirred restlessly toward self-rule. The air crackled with the fervor of change as men took to makeshift stages, their voices rising in fiery oratory, pleading for a future beyond colonial rule. At the heart of this movement in Rosignol stood Sydney Madray Kuttain, a tireless activist for the PPP. It was he who orchestrated the political meetings at the Rosignol Society Hall, where crowds gathered in restless anticipation, spilling beyond the wooden walls and onto the public road.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and darkness encroached, the hall came alive under the glow of a Petromax gas lamp. I remember it well—I was there, a boy carrying a tray laden with sandwiches and beverages, walking beside my childhood friend, the son of S.M. Kuttain, who bore the lamp. We entered the hall together, placing our burdens on a table in the corner, just by the stage.

And then, a voice—a commanding, impassioned voice—cut through the room. It exalted, pleaded, and demanded action in the approaching 1953 elections. I looked up, transfixed. The voice belonged to a man whose name would never leave me. The murmurs around me spoke of him—Sydney King, from the village of Buxton.

Years passed, and his name transformed, as did the country. I read his letters in the Stabroek News, following his words as he evolved into Eusi Kwayana, a figure unwavering in his convictions. The image of that night at the Rosignol Society Hall never faded—of the young man in white, a beacon in the dimly lit room, his presence etched into my consciousness.

One day, I responded to one of his letters. He warned of troubled times ahead, and I offered to walk the coastlands with him, step by step, to tell the people of the dangers looming over our nation. Now, decades later, I return to that memory, to that moment when history and destiny intertwined. And I ask: let me come to Buxton, so that we may begin a conversation.

I stand before you not as a relic of the past, but as a voice for the future. My relevance in Guyana’s politics rests not on my own words, but on your endorsement. Allow me to walk through your village and speak of what we can build together for every man, woman, and child who calls this land home.

Guyanese must realize by now that the country is polarized. It is like we were thrown into a consuming river. We need each other's help to create the islands of excellence in this sea of chaos. Or we will together drown in misery or cast over the precipice.

There is a plan to save ourselves. One that requires consideration by as many Guyanese who hope for a meaningful change in the managers of the country.

Guyana is at a crossroads.

The path of division can become impregnable walls, permanently separating us. Or we can choose the path of unity, where those impregnable walls become bridges connecting us.

Let us choose a path of unity.

The dream of Hope for the Future belongs to every African voter. This is not just an election—it is a defining moment for Afro-Guyanese to stand together, united in a vision for Guyana’s future. The power of change does not lie in the hands of Indo-Guyanese; you can channel their vision of Hope for the Future. It rests within us, as a people, as a force, as a community determined to shape our own destiny.

In 2015, 6,000 additional voters helped usher in a new government. Imagine the impact if even more Guyanese voices were heard in the upcoming elections. But we must be willing to vote for leadership that does not rule as colonizers but understands our history—our struggle, our resilience.

Our ancestors, the Africans of 1838, had no guidance, no structured path. Yet, they built homes, not in the comfort of established towns but on the fringes of forests, abandoned plantations, and lands they claimed as their own. They carved out communities from nothing but determination. Today, their descendants must carry forward that same spirit—this time, not with bricks and timber, but with the power of the vote.

Guyana is a complex society, and governance must be rooted in compassion. For too long have we cast our votes based on the directions of African leadership, which do not always have our best interests at heart. This time, let your vote be purposeful. Let it be unified. Let it be cast for the Timehri Action Party.

Without hope, I would not ask you to unify your vote. If there were no chance for change, I would understand splitting the Afro-Guyanese vote. But hope exists. And unity is the only way forward.

For 28 years, leadership held ethnicity at the center of governance. In 2015, many believed a new era had begun, only to be met with disappointment as politics returned to the same old prejudices. And now, we face a government that governs without conscience, without a true vision for all its people.

Afro-Guyanese voters—you must lead the way, not just for yourselves, but for all Guyanese. If you stand firm, if you stand united, you will inspire Indo-Guyanese and others to stand beside you in electing a government that truly represents the progress of all.

Let me introduce you to the Timehri Action Party—a movement that believes in simplicity in governance, in making Guyana’s wealth work for its people, and in ensuring that every citizen benefits from the prosperity of the oil economy. Because as rapid development surges ahead, the ordinary man risks being left behind, left so far behind that decades from now, he will only see the wealth he helped create, but never got to share in.

Unless we act.

Even today, simple services remain out of reach for many. That must change. And it can change—with a united opposition, with a focused vision, with the power of your vote.

The time is now. The power is yours. The future is waiting.

Guyana—a land of just 800,000 souls, yet boundless in spirit. A nation shaped by resilience, its heartbeat echoed across a vast and unwavering diaspora. Let 2025 be the year we rise above the shadows of ethnic divisions, embracing unity as our greatest strength. May we weave a future where diversity is not a fault line but the foundation of our shared destiny. The time for change is now—together, we can redefine what it means to be Guyanese.

Timehri—a word deeply rooted in Amerindian heritage—means the mark of the hand. And soon, the people of Guyana will leave their own mark, shaping the future of their nation with a single, decisive stroke—an “X” beside the name of the political party they believe in.

With your support, the Timehri Action Party can stand proudly on the ballot, offering a vision for progress, unity, and change. Let your mark be more than just ink on paper—let it be a symbol of hope, action, and a future defined by the people.

You may not know me, but in 1995, some of the villagers worked on a project I was developing in Guyana: Lot 29, Coldingen Industrial Estates, just down the road.

It was a difficult time in Guyana.

And I answered a call to invest in Guyana.

The project continually met with setbacks, one after another.

One of those setbacks closed all doors for further discussions.

My name, an Indian one, marked me, like an Untouchable in India, with discernable names as a Scheduled Caste. And in Guyana’s caste-like Afro and Indo dealings, my name, considered to be, “wan ah dem.”

A Guyanese lawyer decided to investigate how many Indians had land in Coldingen. My name appeared on his list.

It did not matter that I was an overseas investor. Enough that I looked Indian, and my name was Indian. Perhaps, there was no prejudice in rhetoric.

It did not matter that I answered a call from President Hoyte’s economic recovery program in 1989. The Yarakabra community relied on the Glass Factory to employ them. And it was permanently closed.

Conserving foreign exchange at all costs was the cry.

Guysuco spent a great deal on replacement parts. I presented a plan to the Booker-Tate Management team to refurbish the chain carrier links in Guyana. I had worked at Blairmont before immigrating to Canada. And I knew the processes.

Land was identified on the Highway opposite the entrance to Yarakabra. However, the paperwork for it took forever to go through the DNC and RDC.

I kept in contact with Booker-Tate on the project with promises of its implementation. But the land was not forthcoming.

In 1992, with a change in government, Coldingen was conceived. By 1995, a bond was erected. Unfortunately for my Company, Booker-Tate was replaced by a South African Management Company. They were uncomfortable with my expertise in trying to save Guyana's foreign currency by refurbishing the carrier chain links.

Coldingen, with a manufacturing bond and infrastructure, lay idle while I frantically sought other business ventures.

The government swept in like a storm, seizing everything without a shred of compensation, leaving me to bear the financial wounds alone to this very day. Every agency tied to Coldingen turned its back on me, discarding my appeals as if they were nothing more than crumpled paper. Some even dared to imply arrogance on my part, as if demanding fairness was a crime.

They have perfected the art of belittling investors of color, making them wait for hours in suffocating halls while they slink out the back doors like cowards. These self-proclaimed “gods” preach about Guyana’s bright future, yet they trample on the very people who dare to build it.

I say this because, back in 1995, some of you laid the very foundations of this place with your own hands.

So I return with the belief that the hands that once hoisted timber and stone in Coldingen can now shape something far greater—a future built on memory and movement, not just mortar.

There is a strong chance that the soil of Buxton, where resistance once took root, can still bear the fruit of justice if watered by unity.

Please don’t mistake me as the one seeking glory because I come bearing the bruises of betrayal and the hope of rebirth. Triumph is not my tale; the tenacity of wounds endured and faith unshaken is.

To you, I offer my voice, which is forged in struggle, tempered by time, and unwavering in its call for change.

Buxton was once a village that defied the impossible. It was born from the sweat of freed Africans who pooled their meager coins to buy the land they once toiled upon. They changed their symbol from those of poverty to those of power and from those of suffering to those of sovereignty.

Let that spirit rise again through unity, courage, and choice.

Those ancestors bore no privilege. They had no blueprint. Only a dream and each other. All of Guyana inherits its legacy by choice.

And in 2025, choice has a voice.

Let it thunder through the ballot box like the drums that once called our ancient forefathers to gather in Africa and India, in the Indigenous Land of Many Waters, and those that came forth from their loins.

Not just ink on paper, let your mark—the stroke of an X—be a resurrection of pride, a resurrection of people, and the beginning of a new reckoning.

Let that X speak for the tired mother waiting in a clinic line, the youth turning away from a job because of his name, and the old man who is still walking on crumbling roads with memories of what this country promised to be.

Let it speak for the investor who came with a dream and was met with disdain.

Let it speak for justice, long delayed. For dignity, long denied.

And most of all, let it speak for us—united by a common destiny and not divided by ethnicities.

Let us leave our Timehri—for those yet unborn, who will one day ask: “When the country stood at the crossroads, what did you do?”

Let Buxton answer: “We stood. We spoke. We believed. We built. Again.”

And let the land remember it.

Chapter 9 The Promise.

Together, We Build A United Guyana

“One Nation, One People, One Destiny.”

Words, no matter how late in our history we come to embrace fully, intend to mold us as one entity with varying cultures. Our diversity is celebrated.

If I were addressing you, the people of Buxton, I would be saying.

Good evening, my Countrymen.

Thank you for gathering here today, for your time, and for your unwavering hope for a brighter tomorrow. I stand before you as a fellow Guyanese who wants to serve you—the people—committed to justice, fairness, and unity.

We are a nation shaped by many cultures—African strength, Indian tradition, Amerindian history, and more. This diversity should be our greatest strength, yet too often, it has been used to divide us. But let me be clear: division is not where we are headed. Our future lies in unity.

For too long, Afro-Guyanese have openly expressed the inequities they faced, whether in access to opportunities, recognition of African history, or in the rightful place in shaping this nation's future. It is time to change that—not with empty promises, but with action.

The past was yesterday, yesteryear, or decades ago. And leaders have transgressed this nation in their actions.

Better, not to mention the transgressions.

But simply to move on.

We can make the transition by implementing the simplicity of living in Guyana. The hospitals will serve you better, services in finances will be orderly, transportation will improve with government-operated buses, and the house lots you possess will be developed to avoid flooding. And we will be sure you have value for your hard-earned money spent. Every community will have the infrastructure for the simplicity of living in this country.

You deserve a wonderful life.

We are only 800,000 people.

And you want to run, but you are made to creep.

We need to develop the population SO THAT YOU BENEFIT.

This is your country.

It is time to move on.

It sounds like a plan to spend lots of money.

Yes.

There are lots of issues that simply won't go away until a great deal of money is thrown at it.

The garbage to name one for instance.

The aim is a unified group of young men and women as the government.

Our Commitment to You

Empowering Our Communities
I will prioritize investment in Afro-Guyanese communities. We will improve schools, create job opportunities, and support small businesses. Our focus will be on sustainable industries, empowering our youth, and ensuring no one is left behind. We will do what was tried in Guyana as gifts by the Chinese government in 1966. They gave this nation several equipped factories. We have the money to develop industries in localities to keep you living in your communities. If you wish to move, then the country's progress will accommodate you no matter where you wish to live.
Preserving Our Heritage
Our African heritage is the backbone of Guyana's culture. From our music and art to our traditions and stories, we must ensure they are celebrated and preserved. I will advocate for greater funding to honor our contributions to this nation, including museums, libraries and cultural festivals that reflect our legacy. Plantations, once of sugar, cocoa, cotton abandoned by its owners, restored from ruins by emancipated men and women into communal enclaves of villages. These villages are the history of a by gone time, never to be forgotten. These villages must be rehabilitated. And I will persevere with that promise. For your daily relaxation after a hard days work, I will promote building of efficient Broadcasting Studios. Equipped to produce Guyanese content, included with the programming of the cultures we are from. Ours is unique, but we must know of our forefather's cultures and of their ancient civilizations.
Fair Representation
Afro-Guyanese voices must be heard at every level of decision-making. This new administration will ensure that government, law enforcement, and institutions reflect the people they serve—fairly, equitably, and justly.
Justice for All
We cannot build a strong nation on the foundation of inequality. I pledge to reform our justice system, addressing systemic biases and ensuring equal protection under the law for every Guyanese, regardless of ethnicity.

Bridging the Divide

To the Indo-Guyanese, I say this: there cannot be adversaries among us. We are neighbors. We are family. Our shared struggles demand shared solutions. Let us reject the narratives that pit us against one another and instead embrace the truth that we are stronger together.

We will launch programs to bring communities together—shared cultural events, inter-community youth initiatives, and dialogue forums—to foster understanding and unity. Our music, songs and theatre will reflect us collectively.

The Way Forward

Guyana is at a crossroads. We can choose the path of division, where ethnic lines become walls that separate us. Or we can choose the path of unity, where those lines become bridges connecting us. I choose the path of unity.

I call on you, this proud Afro-Guyanese community, to stand with me—not just for your community, but for all of Guyana. Together, we can create a nation where every child, regardless of their ethnicity, can dream big and achieve their potential.

Let us rise, not as ethnicities of Amerindian , Afro and Indos but as one Guyanese people. Together, let us build a future worthy of our ancestors' struggles and sacrifices. Our ethnic division is a major hinderence to the progress of the Indigenous People of Guyana.

We are one nation. We are one people. And together, we will achieve our one destiny.

Today, I stand before you not just a Reformer President, but as a son of this soil, committed to the future of every single citizen of this beautiful nation we call home.

Guyana's Future...Starts Now

Monday, 7 July 2025

A CHILD'S LIFE

Wismar

Tuesday, 1 July 2025

THE GRASSROOT

Tuesday, 10 June 2025

THE INCLUSIVE GOVERNMENT OF 2025

Chapter 10

The Gathering of Parliamentarians.

Wednesday, 4 June 2025

TIMEHRI ACTION PARTY

Our Vision

Our Core Aims

The Literary Foundation of Our Movement

Wednesday, 28 May 2025

THE REFORMER PRESIDENT. A Novel soon to be available on Amazon.

To the city folk of Georgetown, Rosignol was merely another stop along the railway. But to those who called it home, it was a world unto itself—its own small paradise, wrapped in the steady rhythm of the train, the scent of the river, and the voices of a community bound by time and tradition.

Chapter 8

The Appeal

Chapter 9

The Promise.

Together, We Build A United Guyana

Bridging the Divide

The Way Forward

The Plan for Progress

A Call for Unity

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