Sunday, March 2, 2025 at 12:33 AM

Belize is the only place I know where its citizens are not consumed, awed by, or even care about famous people. James Brown, a revered figure worldwide, was treated with almost disdain in Belize. Harrison Ford commented that when he was filming Mosquito Coast, he had a phalanx (he did use not that word) of bodyguards with him. By his third day in the Jewel, he was wandering about by himself without usually intrusive crowds bothering him. Michael Keaton, the best Batman ever, and a regular visitor to the Jewel, sits with his celebrity friends at the Blue Water Grill in San Pedro, with nary an interruption from other diners. There are exceptions—Muhammad Ali or Keith Lyn and Byron Lee, but for the most part they are left alone to enjoy their stay. I was amazed back in the ‘90s that Burning Spear was performing at the Princess, one of the greatest reggae artists, to a very pilinki audience. WTF? Better than that, Snoop Dog, Dr. Dre and Tupac were playing basketball at the park in San Pedro and nobody cared, except for a few young girls ogling them. Granted, they hadn’t achieved the stardom status that was coming their way at the time; but still, they were famous.

All these people I mentioned are bona fide celebrities, adored all over the world; well, maybe not the late Byron Lee or Keith Lyn, but all these others are mobbed by adoring fans whenever they appear in public. People I respect have said to me that Belizeans are very stingy with their compliments; I have to agree with that observation.

I bring this all up just to get to Shyne Barrow—a gifted writer of prose and an amazing rapper, with innate intelligence unequaled by his peers, except maybe by people like Jay Z or Kendrick Lamar. His budding career was cut short by a long prison sentence brought on by his youthful indiscretions. If not for that, I believe he would’ve become one of the greatest entertainers ever. Bill Maher called him the most intelligent hip hop artist that he had ever interviewed.

But even Shyne realized who the real celebrities are in Belize, and he wanted to join that club. Politicians are the real celebrities in the Jewel. They draw the crowds, win the adoration of the masses, and rise up to unimaginable heights. Shyne dipped his toe into that pool, but that was as far as he was allowed to go. Neither his celebrity nor his political family could take him to the “promised land”. Wat a ting!

And now, he is being disrespected by those who envy him, maybe who wish they were him, and are punishing him for his ambition to get into the halls of the immortals. With all his street smarts, he could not win that unwinnable war against a system, a club that his family helped create. I was listening to some crazy political hack rake him over the coals on Wave radio station the other day. This guy showed Shyne no mercy; the attacks were so vicious that I felt sorry for him. I thought that politics was rough in America; they could learn a thing or two from Belize politics!

Instead of bringing the Opposition together, he has created a void that seems to be impossible to reconnect, unbridgeable. The Opposition is in tatters, in a tailspin, with general elections less than a couple of weeks away; and then, hopefully, the bloodbath will end, along with the party, in its current form.

But what do I know? Colin Hyde wrote about karma in his column last week. This is worse than karma. This is hell!

Glen