In more ways than one our roads have become a death trap
It is a road death of a different kind. One that came about not through the tortured screech of tires, and the clash of steel on steel (or flesh and bone). It is a road death that resulted when a weapon was aimed, a trigger was pulled, a gun was fired, and a steel-jacketed missile was ejected. It ended up in the body of a driver by the Bourda market. One man is dead and two are on the lam. All of this is near to the Sabbath. It is a road death by road rage. All Guyana should have seen something like this coming. I did, even think I wrote about it.
It was just a matter of time. At some time, it was bound to happen - sooner than later. Now a man’s time is up, while the liberty of two others exists on borrowed time. It was over a parking space, I read. I have watched this and seen this, but without a gun unholstered and a bullet fired, up to this point. I have listened to this and heard this, with loud abuses and a stream of curses following. Drivers block residential entrances, leave their vehicles for an extended period, and then react with that special kind of Guyanese symphony reserved for the objects of their wrath.
Neighbours have had more than their share and live to tell the tale. A friend came to visit from the US, and he had the unfortunate experience of his vehicle being imprisoned for over an hour. The offending driver’s vehicle was clamped, and when she returned hours later the police got an earful. Must be the climate. Or the quality of the water. Or to take this to its logical end, the strong spirits of Guyana that are a bit on the surging and rowdy side.
When I contend that this is a lawless country with countless lawless and discourteous and dragged up people, some take offense. I point to the behaviour of top politicians and the conduct that all are so proud of in parliament. Or what is described as press conferences. Anyone still arguing? Anybody got over their convulsions of laughter? These loud and proud patriots function as role models for many. They ooze vituperation, venom, and virulence, with one hairless politician representing a rare specimen standing all by himself. Indeed, so well-versed he is in the grand art of trash talking and jiving and showboating. Grand because it is Guyana, and here abuse is considered a domestic virtue.
Meanwhile, there is still one citizen now dead over a parking spot, and two others who have spotted themselves some miles with a running head-start. How we park is one area of dispute (now fatal), another is how we drive on the roads, and that is a crisis all by itself. It is hazardous to one’s health to even talk about it. Me, I am taking up smoking. Or keeping the headlights shining on Guyana’s esteemed head of state and the other head man, both of whom are prone to losing their heads. Me, I am not driving too near to them. Nobody could tell how ruinous that may be to life and limb. Our roads have become a deathtrap, and in more ways than one. This is the subdued and civilized version of modern Guyana. If this is the civilized sample, then I will take my chances in the Gaza Strip.