When I started writing this column way back in 2005 I wondered if I would be able to come up with something different enough each week to avoid writing the same column over and over. I don’t think I’ve had a problem with that so far. Over the last three years I have alluded to personal issues, although all of life is seen through personal glasses to a large extent. What triggered this off was a conversation I had with a person whom I have great respect for, along with other current events in the life of my family.
Let’s start at the beginning. I began teaching at Austin High School in Dangriga. When Austin High and Stann Creek High merged in 1974 into Stann Creek Ecumenical High School, I began teaching Caribbean History at that institution. My family and I left for the US in 1981 when I was just 33 years old. In 1993, we chose to return, only to find out things had changed, really changed!
My wife and I have often wondered if because of our youth and our emphasis on creating and family happiness, we were not really aware of the way things were going. In those times, land in San Pedro, Hopkins and Placencia was available for pennies compared to the present value. We could have loaded up, but we never even considered it! Certainly the seeds of the corruption that has come so close to destroying the Jewel, were being sowed.
Seen from today’s perspective, hindsight is always 20/20, it appears that the drive for independence had far more to do with the money that independent nations had access to! Once Belize became an independent country, we became eligible for big time grants and loans that we had no access to as a colony. The doors were now wide open for the politicians to enrich themselves with the people’s money..
Belize in the 70’s had its own issues, one of them being a tightly government controlled media, namely Radio Belize! At least Clifton Hall had a half hour weekly jazz program and “Seferino” – Edison Coleman, was a master radio personality. He was so quick with his words and analysis that no one could really censor him! He needs to be enshrined in a Belize media hall of fame!
In any case, we returned to a nation of predators. By 1993, almost everything was “wired”! What I mean is, it appeared that government people, including judges, police and attorneys, etc., could be bought for a song and dance and our property became a target of so-called relatives. I was fortunate in that I went to law school while I was working in Los Angeles and my wife did English-Spanish translations for an SIU, Special Investigations Unit that concentrated on exposing and getting convictions on insurance fraud!
We had to deal with threatening and nuisance telephone calls that forced us to disconnect our phone at night just to get some sleep. Our mail was diverted and held and we got no help from the postal authorities. I have had to get affidavits from people who I was on the same staff with or taught at Ecumenical from 1974-1981 in order to justify my teaching years, because all my records have disappeared! It appears that when I applied for teaching jobs in 1993, someone was spreading rumors that I never taught in Belize and that I had just been released from a mental institution in the States! Nice, huh?
My son almost became a victim of a deliberate attempt to run him over with a car, and when my wife reported this to the Dangriga police, they laughed and refused to take a report! Land records in Belmopan also disappeared. When we tried to bring all of this to the attention of the authorities, they turned their backs. The only person who did his best to be of assistance was Hon. Henry Young! We will never forget what he tried to do for us!
What triggered this all off again occurred when I was waiting in the Minister of Education’s office in Belmopan about a month and a half ago. I was with a business partner of mine about to make a presentation for a program that could make a major difference in the lives of South side men and women. I was talking to others in the waiting room when, lo and behold, “fake dread” suddenly walked in! He shook everybody’s hand, and then held out his hand to me and asked me how I was doing!
I kept my hand on my leg, refusing to shake his, and said, “I’m doing fine!” I had two scenarios running through my mind. One was to come off of my chair with the force of all of my 225 lbs and bury an uppercut right in his balls! The other was to take his hand and break every bone in it! During all of the crap we had to take, we never did anything illegal! If these people thought that they had a legal right to that property, why did they feel that they had to resort to the tactics they used? The answer should be obvious: when it’s not yours you have to try to get it by intimidation and fraud!
When I started doing the jazz show on KREM in 2000, someone started complaining all over Dangriga that KREM “had no right to allow me to be on the air.” What incredible arrogance! This person apparently feels that everybody in Belize must dance to his tune! Mister man, who made you queen for a day, along with your little princess in waiting? This is a classic example of how a little money can convince some people that their power has no limits.
The worst part of all of this is that my wife has always had health problems. When we met, she told me, “I get sick a lot.” That was an understatement. In our 33 plus years together we have probably had one five- year stretch without one health problem or another. My wife will soon have back surgery. That’s operation number nine!
We have managed to deal with all of this so far, but since 1993, it becomes difficult when I see my wife in serious pain while knowing that if we had the rest of what belongs to us, some of these problems could be solved in weeks or days rather than in months. Such thoughts can put me in a very dark place, and create a desire in me to see those responsible find out what real pain is like!
I will end this article with a true story that can make me laugh whenever I think of it. One day in the 1990’s, I went up to the farm at 2 and a half miles on the Valley Road to collect some mangoes from a tree that had been planted before my father was born in 1900. I carried a machete and took along a worker from Z Best blocks to assist me. He also had his machete with him.
Lo and behold, “fake dread” was there with his spray pan on his back, poisoning the soil with chemicals to kill a few weeds. As soon as he saw us he took off running for his truck! We had not even said a word to him nor did we move in his direction. He was so freaked out that he tried to climb into the truck with his spray pan still on his back, only to find out that he couldn’t fit through the door! He wound up wedged in place while frantically trying to take the pan off. When he finally succeeded, he took off like a bat out of hell. That truck was doing 60+ in barely a quarter mile! He knows. They all know. What a priceless memory!