KINDNESS contd

In September of 1960, every apprentice of the 1960 batch had to return to the sugar estates that sponsored them. It was for the signing of the five years contract by the parent.

There lies the dilemma. S.M.K was banned from all estate premises.

I made an appointment to see Mr. Martindale, Personnel Manager at Blairmont Estate Office. I explained the matter confidently. He listened attentively. He asked me to wait. About ten minutes later, I was called to his office. He handed me a letter. And, then informed me that the trespass order against my father was lifted and he could attend the signing ceremony.

Around, a huge mahogany table, parent and apprentice sat with Mr. Martindale and the Estate’s Administrative Manager. The documents were signed. My father had a brief conversation with Martindale about a card game-Bridge. He had learnt to play the game while in detention. Back into the routine of village life, a group of men gathered at the Sanitary Inspector’s home every Wednesday night to play Bridge. It appears, Martindale was invited into the game by the Sanitary Inspector a few weeks prior. The Admin. Manager briefly spoke to S.M.K, “If you had dynamited the Scales and Cane knives House, your son would have missed an opportunity,” He said and walked away. 

Back to Port Mourant for a year. Mid-year 1961, we returned to the respective estates. At Blairmont, I was fascinated with the process of sugar production. All the different departments I had worked in considered me to be an excellent apprentice. I think, it got to my head. Somehow, I must have nerved George Ramoo. He humbled me with the words, “Education does not necessarily makes a person smart.” I remember his words onto this day.

At Blairmont Factory, with the exception of one mixed Chinese foreman, every other foreman and supervisor was a Negro person. Factory Manager, Hohenkirk, a baccra Guianese, had the confidence of his foremen and supervisors. Much later, I was told, he had instructed his staff to watch me closely for I might sabotage the factory as my father attempted to do. After three months at Blairmont, I returned to Bookers Training Centre at Port Mourant.

Practical Training and theoretical studies prepared us for the British Examinations of City & Guilds.

Completed.

It was back to Blairmont Factory for completion of the Five years agreement. All hands on experience with sugar making machinery. It was 1963. During those two years of practical training, I excelled,-moving up the progress ladder. Impressed even Hohenkirk.

Graduated in 1965. Worked for two more years at Blairmont Factory gaining more confidence as qualified journeyman.

Immigrated to Canada, September 1967. I remembered being worried about migrating. Discussed the feeling of uncertainty and anxiety with Bertie Nurse-I had trained under him. He built up my confidence. He simply said, “If you can do so excellent with these two hundred year old machines, just think what you will do with newer machines in Canada.”  That was it, I was ready to venture into new lands.

That drumbeat, so long ago that I felt as a child never departed from me. I followed the beat of my country and the Guyanese people. I am grateful to Headmaster Bourne. His kindness had spared me the Ration Lines, Marginalization, Shortage of food commodities and perhaps humiliation for being an East Indian. My name spelt denying me my civil rights. All that I had escaped by an act of kindness.

In Canada I did well. Mr. Bourne had equipped me to stand tall among giants. My foundations were sturdy.

I’ve heard it said many times, “If God is for you, then who can be against you.” Never registered, in thought, as Pastors spoke the words from pulpits.

Recently, I reflected, pretty well on the same words, said slightly different by my Nigerian Pastor. May be, his English pushed me to be more attentive to his pronunciation when he said,  “When God is on your side, you will receive divine favour even from those who will try very hard not to part with it.”

I remembered, Hohenkik , the baccra Guianese. Saw me in the same light as S. M. Kuttapen. The man who was a thorn by his side in the months of 1953.  And yet, he favoured me with advancement. Pushing open the glass-paned window, pointing to the sky after I told him I was immigrating. He said, “There is a silver lining out there for this country.”

British Guiana was borne into the young independent nation of Guyana.    

Velutha Kuttapen

 e-mail:   timehri@golden.net

Twitter:   Velutha Kuttapen@VeluthaK 

www.timehritoday.blogspot.com

KINDNESS

For all those who will work for the reality of this effort, I humbly thank you.

I have come today. To the meeting place associated with my fellow countrymen. The Afro Guyanese. It would appear, the Square of the Revolution is where you gather to sound your disappointments in the governance of this great country of ours.

But today, you and I will lift our heads to the glorious future we will forge together.

I have read an article by Wilbert M. Stephenson. He was asked the question, “Stephenson, why do you as a Black, Guyanese man with a Buxtonian ancestry continue to write letters to the Editor of the Chronicle newspaper supporting that East Indian government.”

Racial indifferences always existed in Guyana, but now it has reached a level of major concern. And I do not see the current political culture of both the government and opposition parties bringing the country to a peaceful co-existence.

I enjoy a wonderful life. And I am forever grateful to the man who extended his KINDNESS to facilitate my life into a progressive and purposeful one. You see, God does not come down to earth to share out his attributes. He placed His infinite number of attributes in people-whether they are Amerindians, Afro, Indo or any of the other races among us.

It was 1959, my last year at Rosignol Government School. I had passed my Primary School Certificate Exams. Studied and wrote the Pupils Teachers Appointment Exams. The prospects of being selected as a teacher was slim-competitiveness was the elimination. With no money for High School in New Amsterdam, my future was unsure.

The Colonial Education System had introduced WOODWORKING in the curriculum of some schools. Blairmont Primary School was one of such school. And I was sent there for a six weeks course.

Headmaster Neville Bourne, taught the course.

Midway into the course, he mentioned to us (students from Blairmont, Rosignol and Ithaca) about a Special Trade School set up by Bookers to train young people to work on the sugar estates workshops. He got the Application Forms from Blairmont Estate office and gave it to us to be filled out and returned to him at particular date.

I neglected to fill mine or hand it in. He enquired several times when I was going to hand it in. Then one day, he asked me to stay back. He sat down and waited patiently until I completed the Application Form. He took it.

At the end of the course, he informed us all, he had submitted the applications to the estate. And we should look out for letters in the mail.

I had previously told him why I was reluctant in placing an application. My excuse did not deter him.

He was confident, each of his students will be called for interviews.

My father was banned from all sugar estate premises. I felt, I would be part of that prohibition.

A political detainee, in the 1953 Suspension of the Constitution. And was a People’s Progressive Party cell leader in Rosignol. In association with the Rosignol cell were Nathaniel Edwards, Murdoch, Sears, Lilmut Kawal and others. As with all Socialist/ Communist worldwide, there were definite character in their signatures. Like C.B. Jagan and L.F.S. Burnham. My father’s signature was S.M. Kuttapen.

In 1953, the Universal Adult Suffrage elections, I was eight years old, tasked with showing every house in the village with a voter where to place the “X’ beside the CUP. Political slogans had to be written everywhere. Bundles of Thunder had to be sold to ensure the electorate were constantly informed. As a Ghost letter writer, my penmanship improved considerably. My teachers complimented. At the political meetings, a Petromax lamp was lit to brighten up Rosignol Society Hall. I listened to them all. Most memorable was Sydney King. He wore whites-shirt and pants. And when he was in the village for meetings he drank only milk. In a special utensil, I fetched it to him.    

My father, a man of many trades and persuasion. He worked his way from the Cut and Load gang in the cane fields to Scale Checker as the cane was dumped from the punts to be weighed. He was an agitator for the PPP union GIWU. He accused the estate of cheating the cane-cutters on the weights. Always at odds with Estate management for his communist rhetoric.

When the Suspension of the Constitution was enacted, he took a militant stance. He flew a huge red flag in the village with the words PPP stitched on it. From that day and onwards, the Colonial Police came at 4.00 am. As children we were woken up whilst they tumbled everything in the house. Surveillance was constant for violation of the emergency order and distribution of subversive material. Numerous times, arrested and appeared in the court of the magistrate-each time the charges were dismissed. With Restriction Order to travel on Brindley Benn. Again, I was entrusted to dodge the Colonial Police to take him food provision and money for him and his family’s survival. The early morning raids continued on. Nothing was ever found-everything hidden in the sub-floor of the low stilt house. Then, the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.

It was announced, the Governor, Sir Alfred Savage was to visit West Berbice. When that day came, all the Notable Colonial people of the area gathered at the Rosignol Railway Station to greet him. His Private Carriage pulled in at the Station. As he was being introduced to each of the filed individuals, there was great shuffle among the ordinary onlookers. There he was, S.M. Kuttapen with the huge portrait of Josep Stalin hung around his neck. He proceeded to traverse the railway station while the pomp and ceremony for the Governor continued on.

In the wee hours of the morning, the day of the Governor’s visit to Rosignol, the well-guarded Stalin portrait was transported to S.M. Kuttapen to be used as directed by the leadership of the People’s Progressive Party.

The leadership of the PPP were totally involved in handing over British Guiana into a Soviet Satellite. Upon the reading of the Suspension Order on the radio, the Governor revealed the actions by a number of high ranking PPP members. To the dismay of those attuned to the politic of the times, it was fervent discussions. Josep Stalin was the god to the hierarchy of the People’s Progressive Party. They travelled to the Soviet Block, paid homage to him in speeches, adulation and songs of praise. They shed tears of approval for this man, Josep Stalin. Yes, the man they revered, killed millions of his people, annihilated his opponents and possible successors. He was such a fearful man, he died alone without an attending physician. No physician dared to risk his own life at the possibility of being shot for giving the wrong prognosis.             

Socialism and Communism seemed that is all our politicians could have vision for us as an independent country. Forbes Burnham was an ardent believer in such thinking. Later, Rodney came to us with such designs as well.

Anyway.

July 15, 1954. As yet, the first rooster (cock) still in its slumber did not crow to announce the dawning of the new day. They came in full battle gear.  Yes, they came for S.M. Kuttapen. The Governor had had enough of his contempt for the Suspension Order. As usual, the banging on the door. By now the routine had settled in. My mother woke us up. My father opened the door. His usual greetings to David Rose, Assistant Commissioner of Police, a baccra (buccra) Guyanese. As usual, the search warrant would be read.  The Police would enter the house and start the tumbling. But that morning on July 1954, S.M.Kuttapen was informed of the Governor’s decision. He was handed the document. It read, “WHEREAS I am satisfied with respect to ………………………………, that it is expedient for securing the public safety and the maintenance of public order to make a Removal Order against him……………………”

The coolness of early morning breeze. The peaceful quietness of the early morning. Interrupted with sobbing. My mother broke down in tears - her world had changed.  

The kindness of David Rose allowed my father to change into travelling clothes. S.M. Kuttapen quickly hugged his wife and children. Quickly, refreshed the memory of my mother on what see must do.

He knew, it was only a matter of time, he would be arrested.

He stepped out the door. Immediately, surrounded by ranks of the Colonial Police with guns, bayonets attached to the muzzle ends. He was no longer visible. As he was taken away, only can be seen, were men in black uniforms, guns with attached bayonets in the air, slightly above the sea of steel helmets, the kind that were seen on the heads of the British soldiers who walked single filed through the village of Rosignol, in search of the Communist insurgences. A high-pitched whistle alerted the police. So many police filed past us as they marched behind one another. They had cordoned off the entire neighbourhood. Three lorries (trucks) full of Colonial Police followed the Black Mariah.

In the Black Mariah, S.M. Kuttapen was whisked away in the early morning, before the rise of villagers.

Held for a while in New Amsterdam Prison. Later, transferred to the Mazaruni Penal Settlement.

A day later, Lilmut Kawal was arrested in Harbanspur. He also was removed to a place to be appointed by the Governor, as long as the Order continues in operation.

With the PPP in captivity-its operatives detained, in prison or under house arrest. It was difficult for us. There was no financial assistance coming from anywhere. Others, of the Rosignol PPP celL made the suggestion.

And for months, every Saturday, I stood at the Blairmont Pay Office with an empty Ovaltine Can. A slot cut on the lid to accept the jill – a copper coin equivalent two cents. The collection was divided between the Kuttapen and Kawal families. Ground provisions and greens were donated by villagers.

At the earliest, the independence movement was like a drumbeat to me. It had rhythm and still has onto this day. During the political life of Guyana, I have recognized the drumbeat and quietly marched to it. Though it has been the drumbeat of 65 years confrontations.

S.M. Kuttapen, still in detention at Mazaruni Penal Settlement. The People’s Progressive Party had the separation between Extremists and Moderates. By the time, Congress was concluded on 13th February 1955 there were two PPP-a Burnhamite faction and Jaganite faction.

Like night and day. People went to bed one way and got up in a different way. The news of the Split reached Rosignol. Without any hesitation, there were Negroes sweeping cups (symbol of the PPP) and dragging cups tied to their bicycles. In a village where Indians fondly referred to their Afro neighbours as a cousin-Cousin Renee or Cousin Beauty. The women had Cousin added in front of their first names. The men were addressed as Brother with their last names. Now, there was distrust in the open. Perhaps hidden all along. Mild mannered people, took on the persona of indifference to Indians. Thank goodness, there were many sane Afro people in the village. We all survived those race riot years of the sixties peacefully.

The Black Mariah was once again in Rosignol. Close to ten months since its last appearance in the village. Two policemen rushed to the back door of the vehicle and opened it. S.M. Kuttapen stepped out. No one knew he was to be released on May 11, 1955. The last of the detainees at Mazaruni Penal Settlement.

Restricted, unable to travel outside of Rosignol. He wrote letters to the leadership of the People’s Progressive Party. The exchange of letters was the only form of communications. The village was politically divided. There were Burnhamites and Jaganites. Solutions were evasive from the leader of the Jaganite faction. It seems both sides had legitimate reasons for casting their support in the respective camps. Eventually, replies to his letters ceased-he had questioned the leadership too often.      

A troubled man with conflict of conscience.

S.M. Kuttapen had arrived at Rosignol from Albion Front in 1943. Family objections was going to deny him the girl he wished to marry. So, he stole her-so to speak. They get away together. That is the way it was said in those day. Frankly, it was a mutual thing. They eloped.  Strangers in the village and not knowing anyone, they became worried of the prospects of a place to live and start their lives together. They were very few East Indians in the village at the time. Worried. Thinking of returning back to Albion Front, but it was late for the ferry Powis across the Berbice River. Renni Douglas watched from her kitchen window for a while as the couple stood for the longest time by the Rosignol Society Hall. Finally, she came out of her house and enquired, “Are you children in some kind of trouble?”

Fortunately, there was a spare room in Renni Douglas’s house. They spent the night. And that very night, Brother Bentley arranged for Kuttapen to work in the gang of three men chopping cane at Blairmont Estate. Plans moved quickly. They rented downstairs of a house. Credit was vouched for by Cousin Renni at Shorty’s, one of two Chinese stores in the village. He was simply introduced as Kuttapen to Shorty when he purchased a cutlass and a file.

They had found guardians. Their children had God-parents- Cousin Renni was there for the first pregnancy, the delivery and nurturing of the child.  And all three of their children.

Forgiveness does not come easily when a girl disobeys her parents on marriage. The parents stayed away from their home. And they never visited Albion Front.

When S.M.K returned from detention at Mazaruni, he brought with him a trunk full of books. He was encouraged to read whatever he wished to read. And the government bought the books. After a while, books were suggested for him to read. His views had begun to change. After ten months of only reading, he was a man with many questions about the role of Communism in British Guiana.

He questioned too many things and too many times. He questioned the smear campaign mounted by the leadership of the Jaganite PPP against L.F.S. Burnham. Pleading such a position would alienate the African and the Indian.

He was finally blacklisted. Perhaps, the first in a line of individuals who dared to question the leadership of the People’s Progressive Party and tainted by character assassination.

Enough was enough. It seemed, the Colony’s government wanted to do a pamphlet on him. He refused the idea while in detention. But in 1958 he agreed to it.

It was published soon after. “Broken Faith”, was the heading on the cover of the tiny book/magazine.

He worked at the local sawmill doing odd jobs in carpentry. Later that year of 1958, he was hospitalized at the New Amsterdam Hospital for kidney stones. As faith would have it. David Rose visited the hospital one day, recognized him lying on the bed. Enquired what he was doing in life. Gave S.M.K a note to see him at his office when discharged.

He did see David Rose a few weeks later, after granted special permission from the Blairmont Police Station.to travel. Was sent over to the Public Works Department in Georgetown to uplift the necessary papers to start working for the PWD gang between Abary and Ithaca mending the red burnt brick roads    

I finished Primary School in the summer of 1959. Just as Headmaster Bourne had assured us. I received the letter from Blairmont Estate requesting that I assembled at the Blairmont Community Centre to write the selection examinations. There were several tests and interviews over a period of twelve months. Each, with a shorter selection list. After the first letter. Every day I waited by the Ritz Cinema for the postman, after tests and interviews. Somerset, the postman was excited for me. Whenever, he had a letter for me, he would search for me in the village to be sure I received it and shared the news with him.

We were wonderful people back then.

Jobs were difficult to find then. S.M.K was worried about when the Estate people found out who I was. So, he bought a Baker and Bourne Mathematic Books. The day, he brought it home, he gave me a slight lecture. He came from a family of school teachers and proud to say, his grandfather came from Madras to British Guiana. And their generations were Christians since the Apostle Thomas went to Madras in the First Century of the Lord. So, all things Tamil (Madrassie) he revered.  In his readings, he came across Srinivasa Ramanujan-a world renowned Tamil Mathematician who captivated the English minds with his Mathematics. S.M.K felt that God is the greatest Mathematician. Mathematic is logic and if understood, a person’s life can be fashioned with logics. I was tasked in solving every problem in the Baker and Bourne. Cover to cover. And I did, during the wait on Bookers.

It was March 1960, Somerset found me at the front of Ritz Cinema. I was there every day for two weeks after the last interview and test. The envelope in my hand. Previous times, I was at ease when I anxiously opened the envelope and shared the news with Somerset. But, this envelope was a decision on my fate. Somerset waited. I was calm. And I opened the envelope. Read it. Upon the word, ‘successful’ I read it aloud over and over to be sure I was correct. Somerset read it too.

Just as Headmaster Neville Bourne had assured us. I secured a place with a weekly pay pocket at 15 years old in a Trade School operated by Bookers Sugar Estates.     

I am forever grateful for his kindness. I enjoy a wonderful life and I have provided well for my family-my wife, my son and his wife and my grandchildren.

One gift can bring so much joy.

On the end of May 1960, as I entered Bookers Training Centre compound. There was the other students Headmaster Bourne had encouraged to apply. We had never seen each other during the test and interviews-it was staggered. Out of twenty places, Blairmont Estate had selected five. Four were from Headmaster Bourne’s woodworking course –myself, Guy Hooke, Mohammed Ishack and Vincent Henry.

Our history is full of kindness towards all races of people. I am hoping this coming election, my people choose a unified government. People in strength. And politicians who serve us well.

Written in support of Wilbert M. Stephenson.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Velutha Kuttapen

 e-mail:   timehri@golden.net

Twitter:   Velutha Kuttapen@VeluthaK 

www.timehritoday.blogspot.com

The WORKING PEOPLES ALLIANCE-Revived

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

BELIEF, ACTION and BOLD

BELIEF, ACTION and BOLD.

The People’s Progressive Party, in its press conference has informed the media of their decision not to name the running mate with their Presidential Candidate, as yet. Obviously, such a person would be an Afro-Guyanese. So, for the PPP, it is Mr.Ramotar and the yet to Be Named.  The Alliance for Change has pretty well decided on their masquerade as well-Mr. Nagamotoo and Mr.Hughes. The other participant in this age old deception of tolerance among Indos and Afros is A Partnership for National Unity. For them, the task is to identify an Indo running mate for Brigadier Granger.

Since 1992, this have been a charade. For the last 22 years, has the majority of Afros ever found confidence in Mr. Samuel Hinds? I guess not.

Let us go back to the 1955 Split. With East Indians of moderate values supporting Mr. Burnham, the Burnhamite PPP emerged and later the People’s National Congress. Yet those East Indian did not offer their concerns over an organized prejudice. They were quiet in that era.

Then, much later, another group of East Indians joined the People’s National Congress. They too were quiet about the organized prejudice.

East Indians wrote for Mr. Burnham the articles that gave him absolute power. And the PNC lasted for 28 years.

For the last 22 years, what has the Afros in the People’s Progressive Party done for the Afro population? They too have been quiet.

So, this arrangement is only a window dressing. Get elected.  And disappear.

It is about time the people be wise. You are seasoned and matured in this deception. You are old enough to CHOOSE without any racial preference.

Y0U THE ELECTORATE IS READY to make that choice. I WILL TEMPT MY FAITH. I SHALL COME.

Firstly, I wish to address those who are in the Sugar and Rice sector. For sugar, it appears the spokesman for the Peoples National Congress would consider alternative types of industry in its place. I am not so sure that sugar production has reached its end in Guyana. It appears that APNU does not have the drive to offer its solutions to the industry.  Under President Burnham, GUYSUCO was formatted-his aim to house, clothe and feed the nation was a vision of rural development. After 1973, it seems, he got distracted and those in authority saw his vision as meaning Afro domination and the advancement of Pan-Africanism.

Many things plagued the sugar industry under the watch of the Peoples National Congress. Perhaps, it was viewed as an Indo dominated industry. And the scarcity of foreign exchange did not make it possible for the purchase of spare parts.

But the demise of the industry was set on its current path by President Jagan. He appointed the Chairman and its Board and then walked away. Never looked back or reviewed their performance. As with all state assets, the victory of the Peoples Progressive Party empowered them to replace every PNC appointed Chairman and its Board members. Unfortunately, many of those PPP appointments were unsuitable party members. Lack of management skills created the path for massive corruption.

And the Poor Paid the Price for the devious acts of the PPP regime.   

Secondly, Rice cultivation was the poor’s man way of adding income to his family. In the early years of rice cultivation in British Guiana, it was a family affair. Everyone was in the rice field-planting, nurturing and harvesting. It was mothers, fathers and children-boys and girls. Through hard work, rice cultivation became a sustainable industry in the colony.  And it was structured by the PPP of the 1950’s. The Rice-Millers and individuals associated with the Rice Producers Association rose to the elitist class. Leaving behind the farmers on the economic ladder who struggled with their crops, shipped to the rice-millers who seldom paid the farmers on time. This scenario happens on to this day.

And the Poor, once again Paid the Price for the devious actions of the PPP

These two industries, sugar and rice can be combined to manufacture value added products. Like in all types of enterprise, it is necessary to modernize and eliminate excesses to be productive-efficiently.

PROPOSAL:

On the Courantyne, modern facilities will be constructed to process rice into every consumer product-targeting domestic and international markets. 

Sugar is used in about every type of consumer products. Those products will be identified. Production facilities will be set up to manufacture such products. We are equal to our competitors-the Chinese. They are not smarter than us.

Some Sugar Mills will be re-configured to manufacture by products of sugar-cane.

Each functioning Sugar Estate will be structured to generate additional electricity and supply communities adjacent to the estates.

For Linden, a modern fabricating and machine shop will be developed to handle the requirement of Mining Industry. Also, a modern wood processing plant to manufacture finished wooden products for export. Something like IKEA does. The Chinese are taking our logs to process in China for the international markets. We can do the same.

Great emphasis will be placed in the development of the Amerindian communities. A meeting will convened to discuss their needs. Without hesitation, those plans will be implemented.

On the Essequibo, an ultra-modern canning industry will be developed.

SCHEME of THINGS:

The PPP speaks of future plans in the works. Nothing they have done so far worked.

The PNC/APNU doesn’t say much about how they will create jobs. But they talk about the massive unemployment in the country.

The AFC talks about the excesses of the PPP. Nothing is said about the solutions to the current dilemma.

I believe in improving to the maximum what we already have in our hands. Add value to it. And sell it to the world. Prices must be very competitive. Just as the Chinese. China did not achieve their prestige position in the world by a sudden leap, but rather by slowly developing all their resources. A story I have been told. After the revolution, steel was scarce in China. Moa Tse Tung had every person in China delivered whatever non-useable steel they could find-and that was the beginning of the Chinese Steel making venture which later equipped them to be mass manufacturers. It is said, “Any country where more than 50% of the population is employed in manufacturing, that country is a progressive one. Our people are talented in everything we do and wherever we work. Guyana has the people to be a progressive country. We just need good leadership. Perhaps, the Chinese could manufacture in Guyana. I know, it has been reported that they treat Guyanese badly. But under good governance, all facets of investment will be scrutinized for abuses.             

Build Operate Transfer (BOT) is not beneficial to the long term development plans of the country. We are to start thinking like a country with hopes and aspirations towards a future. It is essential that a micro crude oil processing plant be set up in Guyana. It is important that a government invests in the country’s future. We shouldn’t expect serious foreign investments to come to us if we do not lead the way in our own development. NICIL, a PNC creation was intended to sell off state assets and invest in the job creation sector. The PPP of 1992, upon taking office, hastily disbanded the GAIBANK and GUYMIDA. Thereby, shifting job creation by the local economy to international investors with untold amounts of money like the Chinese. That PPP decision killed the entrepreneurial spirit of the average Guyanese people. The access to investment capital were no longer possible from the State.      

In time, I will address every ethnic group and business sector, but at this time I will focus on the sugar workers.

I ask you the sugar workers to consider carefully. You could very well lose your jobs. Unless, you carefully weigh your decisions before voting at the upcoming elections.  You’ve had 22 years of the PPP and their efforts concerning your livelihood. And they care less if you are without jobs. The PPP is lacking in every way to save your jobs. As for the PNC/APNU, they doan even want to try and save your jobs. They ready to close the whole enterprise down. The AFC, reminds me of the PPP –the old PPP was no different than the new PPP of today. So far, they all talking but nothing is being said in your favour.

In the 1950’s, the sugar workers were called upon to endorse the People’s Progressive Party at the 1953 General Elections.

Today, I ask for your support to get me onto the political stage.

BELIEF: The electorate has reached the time of history to choose a political leader that offers job creation and sound governance.

ACTION: I am equipped to do what I have said. I am a graduate of Bookers Training Centre. I have worked on a sugar estate and familiar with the process and all of its mechanical equipment in the manufacture of sugar. A Canadian graduate in Mechanical Engineering. Also, I have 32 years of management skills in the manufacturing sector in Canada. I am an entrepreneur.      

BOLD: I am bold to tell every citizen-old, young, woman, man and child. You are alive today. I want you to know a whole generation have died during the 65 years of existence of the People’s Progressive Party. They have taken away God from this society. Is it any wonder the country reels from crimes, suicides and all manner of perils that can befall upon mankind?

In closing, I quote, ”A nation’s culture resides in the hearts and in the souls of its people.”

Thank you.   

Velutha Kuttapen

timehri@golden.net

www.timehritoday.blogspot.com