Someone beat me to it. In their commentary last week, the notorious writer of the Belize Times column, Think About It, remarked about the Coastal Road being named the Sir Manuel Esquivel Road, but that doesn’t deter me from getting in my liks. I, unlike most people, don’t need to throw the first blow. I neva nak out wahn bomb eena my life, never threw a first blow.
Ah, the UDP of 1984 to 1989 — we naïve NIP really thought that Hero Philip Goldson had some worth with that crowd, but the new kids on the block who were in charge considered him a loser. Never mind Brother Sedi featuring our hero on his ICJ posters. He didn’t mind using the great man for his purpose.
Time is a dangerous animal that will out a man if he lives long enough. Sedi boasted that he was prominent in the No-to-Guatemala resistance parades, but truth crushed to earth got up and bit him on his bottom. The man is no militant; he is an intellectual, a pure palabras fighter.
Now, Mr. Hubert, he is different. Sure, he liked playing wordsmith, like Joe Bradley and Vaughan Gill, but no one doubts that at a point in his life he hit a crossroad where he had to decide whether to punch, or taak.
I should have known that the UDP were a different breed from the NIP, because their first leader, Dean Lindo, every one of us knew that one part of him was a wily cat. I note that the UDP celebrated their birthday last week, and it was on the occasion of one of these celebrations, on a radio (and maybe television) show that Dean Barrow said that when his uncle took over the opposition party they all knew that the PUP no longer had the patent on teefing elections. Mr. Barrow said that everyone in the UDP knew that with the Old Mr. Dean at the lead, if any election mi fu teef, da dehn mi wahn du the hanky panky.
After Amandala’s great effort to help push out the corrupt PUP in 1984, and after so many years of the PUP and their compliant team at Radio Belize suffocating the voice of Philip Goldson, naturally most everyone thought that UBAD would get their radio station, but the UDP under Manuel Esquivel shamelessly wanted the same protection from Radio Belize that that radio station had given to the PUP over the long painful years that party ruled.
My recollection is that Minister Hubert was the man who threatened muscle if the Amandala dared to give a national voice to JC and Moaz. This made him a big UDP hero. When a massive flood threw down a bridge in Cayo before the builders could finish it, Hubert railed about it in the House every meeting, about as often as Sedi used to run down Mr. Price. This made him a big UDP hero. When Hubert coined the phrase, “PUP is a gang of thieves masquerading as a political party”, or something like that, that put him in the ring of honor, gave him the rights to a Stephen Okeke bust painted fire engine red. So, why didn’t he get the road named after him?
Oh, Hubert threw in his lot with Hero Goldson when the UDP split over the Maritime Areas Act back in 1992, but that wasn’t a mortal sin because they were back in love again in time to win the 1993 general election.
As there is a God above, that Coastal Road is for Hubert. I think he is from Malanti and in the old days that road was all he talked about when he wasn’t maligning the PUP.
What does Sir Manuel have to do with it? I think he and Kathy bought a place down on the coast in Mullins River, and who knows if they didn’t learn about the virtues of that village on a virgin voyage with Hubert on Hubert’s new road.
Hmm, could it be possible that Hubert got thrown in the ditch because Manuel from Belize City and Kathy from England, having traveled on that very rough and sometimes impassable Coastal Road, lobbied the British for the investment, and this is some kind of reward? I don’t think so, because modern political correctness would have demanded the name be the Sir Manuel and Lady Kathy Coastal Road.
A prime suspect behind this very unkind treatment of Mr. Hubert by Patrick, has to be the PM. A gloating Hubert exposed Dean Barrow’s fetish for things that glitter, and there is no doubt that he, Barrow, is a very happy man to see his old nemesis so disrespected. Any detective worth a daam would suspect the old master of games to have been behind the shameful deed, but we’ll have to let that be, because I will run out of paper and ink after I have exposed a possible third suspect or suspects.
Somewhere out there there’s also an old Belizean engineer or two gloating over the unkind cut, because Hubert said some unprintable things about him/them when he/they were working on the road.
A mask to suit the situation
There are some fashion people who are intent on looking good or interesting under their necessary face cover, and well, flamboyant people will never be held down, but no worry about me wasting my breath because this call for a mask to suit the situation is solely for practical reasons, based on cost and comfort, not looks.
There are situations that are more risky than others, and on these occasions we need to wear our best, that is, most protective, mask. If you have to be in a room with others or if you visit the clinic or the hospital, pull out your best mask.
If you go to the shop or any business place on days that are not so busy, your middle-best mask should do. If you go walking on a street that isn’t crowded you should be able to get by with your least protective mask.
The report I have is that for us regular folk a simple blow test is sufficient to determine the effectiveness of our mask. Light a candle and try to blow it out. The mask that gives the flame no protection, that is your C game, the mask that causes the flame to flicker wildly, that is your B game, and the mask that is so effective that the candle flame is a house that a big bad wolf can’t blow down, that’s your A game, for tough situations.
A noh sih yu; a sih tu much a you
It should be mandatory, if it is not, for all motorcyclists to get a new safety guide and a short quiz every time they go to renew their license. My observation is that there are still too many motorcyclists on the road who don’t understand that people driving cars and trucks do not see them.
Ah, there are motorcyclists that we are seeing too much of. These are the guys on the big bikes who are not satisfied to look like Brom Bones, but they have to act like him too, roaring through the village where I live with absolutely no respect for the speed limits.
There are about 20 speed bumps (sleeping policemen) in the Cayo District between Roaring Creek and Santa Elena, and it must be quite frustrating to drivers who make that trip almost daily, to have to slow down to a creep twenty times on the short journey.
The speed bumps are necessary because of a few disrespectful drivers of cars, trucks, and motorcycles. The vast majority of drivers appreciate the need to keep their speed down, and a little reminder along the way – we know these powerful vehicles oftentimes overpower our little brains – will keep us in line. But there are those full of arrogance and/or ignorance, and so we need 20 speed bumps.