by Colin Hyde

On Sunday, April 2, we celebrate, remember the day Jesus rode on a donkey toward Jerusalem, and the Apostles and His other followers strew their cloaks and flowers and fronds in His path, and sang, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the Highest!” and the philistine Pharisees said to Him that He should rebuke His disciples, and He told them: “I tell you, if these were silent the very stones would cry out!’”

And then, and then when He arrived at the temple He got off the donkey and walked in, and He took off his sash, a cord, or He made a whip, and flogged the daylights out of those who were defiling the Holy place.

Quite simply, the lawyers have hijacked Belize and the Caribbean

So, the story is that we have to up the salary of lawyers who work in our courts because the Caribbean islands are beckoning with higher salaries. It doesn’t matter what we can afford; if we don’t shin up the dough, they are going to other places with sun, sand, and sea. We are talking big money here, money it is hard to wrap our minds around.

Wow, some are making more than $150,000 a year! Please don’t get distracted by salaries in the land of milk and honey America. The Wikipedia says the salary of the US Attorney General was US$221,400 in 2021. Wait, we should keen on that. My, my, compare our populations. 300 million Americans contribute to every dollar the US Attorney General makes, while our AG makes around $80,000 as base salary, which is paid by 400,000 Belizeans.

Relative is a word that isn’t much noticed in Belize. Just a couple months ago the minimum wage was $3.30 per hour. And we heard about lawyer fees of $1,000 per hour. We have heard about the increasing gap between the haves and the have-nots; well, can you wrap your mind around people making 300 times what other Belizeans make? You know there are people who say Belize was a better country when the colonial masters ruled.

Look, there’s no problem paying lawyers that kind of money, if the masses weren’t starving out here. Please don’t call us grudgeful, or crab in barrel. It’s hard for the hungry to glory in the triumphs of the rich and famous, the mighty successful. Sure, we smile with you. We di grin and bayr it.

Let me tell you again. If you make that kind of money in Belize, every ounce of your focus and resources must go toward making better for the rest of us. Get a financial expert to show you where and how to invest in our country, so we become better. You will become wealthier, and all will be well because the rest of us will get a bite too.

Whoa there, you know why we chased out those colonial masters? They say when a man named Orwell wrote about pig to man and man to pig he was exposing the far left socialist philosophy. But there are no communists here. In our Orwell story we chased out the colonial master who was eating all the meat. What a twist, oh how we love it; whee, our own kind have taken over the old masters’ beds.

What the video said

That video with the teacher and the youth ended (should have) when the teacher showed the boy the door. If the youth felt the teacher was wrong, his only recourse was to go to the principal, or to his parents. Come on, Belize; let’s not be silly.

We are in real big trouble because our youth are being taught by Tom, Dick, and Harry social media influencers. This army of ten thousand is running us down into the ground. In this Belize, thanks to the foreign influencers whom we have allowed an open run, our young men think that carrying a knife or a gun in a civilian world is manly. That’s where we’re at right now.

The teacher’s handling of that incident was restrained, exemplary. Questioning him about the incident should be only a formality, and that should be made very clear to all of Belize.

Why my vote clearly said, not contiguous

CJ Conteh was free to make his ruling in the case of communal rights because the cause enjoyed the support of many, and because it was the right decision. Remember, PUDP was not for communal rights. From one PUDP we learned the term “balkanization”, and from the other PUDP we got narrow history lessons about the Maya of Toledo. But many Belizeans supported the cause. My two cents was always in favor of communal rights. I recall that in one of my early pieces I noted that had our Mayan brothers and sisters been pastoral, they would have controlled much of what they were calling for.

But my vote said, not contiguous. If it’s contiguous, it’s balkanization. Only a few of the villages should be conjoined. There must be spaces in between villages so Belizeans from other tribes and Mayan Belizeans who are not into full communal living, can have access, can use and enjoy.

Twenty years

Wow, it’s about that long that I have been having my thoughts on things published in the leading newspaper in the country. I was at the Heritage Library doing a little research, and it was March 19, 2003 that a first piece from me was published. Shortly after, the column began, quite likely because the copy editor for the Amandala, my niece, Rachel, was biased, or was feeling bored.

During the 20 years I’ve had my paper and ink taken away twice. That’s the reason behind changing my byline from Sixes & Sevens, to Colin bh, and now to my registered name, Colin Hyde. If God spares life, I expect I will get dumped again. I’ll miss the chum I get for my pieces, and I’ll miss sharing my thoughts with you instead of with trees/plants/farm animals, but my ego will suffer no bruise.

And I won’t mind the PUP and UDP and lawyers and other detractors of mine singing a joyful song when I get chucked out of the leading newspaper again, why because the bad things I write about them, it is jos bikaaz I want them to do the right thing.

Ugh, I thought it might have gone swimming in there

Whoa, I lost my flash drive on Thursday morning last. That’s not like me. Losing your flash drive is like chopping your yard, and just when you’re wrapping up, about to go get a refreshing beer, you look behind you and all those grass blades you cut are standing as high as they did when you swept through earlier in the day with your sharp machete.

Reporting on the sequence when I got up in the morning, first thing I picked up my B-i-b-l-e and my reading glasses, then I picked up my laptop, got my flash drive and put it in a pocket, headed to the verandah, started my laptop, read my passages for the day, got up and went to the kitchen for a glass of water, and then I went to the servicio. From there I went to the wash room to change my clothes. I reached into my pajama pocket for my flash drive, to transfer it to my day pants, and it wasn’t there.

Agh, ugh, the pajama I had on has very shallow pockets and I had this nauseous feeling that my files ended up in that bowl. What with haste to get on with my work and all that, yes, it was possible that the compilation of my thoughts was swimming in it. You see why I couldn’t give up. During the day I searched. And in the night I got a flashlight and went looking again. Hooray, hooray, you can think what you want about my thoughts, that they are that, but my flash drive wasn’t there.