What I hate most about Jamaica

GUNS ARE rapidly climbing to the top of the ‘things I hate most’ list. I’m at a point where legal, illegal, rusty and buried, plastic and played with, they are all the same to me. Pure evil.

I haven’t always felt that way. A spouse with a gun was once a sexy fantasy in my head. The macho bravado of a man who could defend his family with just the pull of a trigger was my ideal. I thought having a gun around would make me feel safe.

It didn’t.

I’ve had gun-carrying boyfriends. My daddy is an ex-policeman. Their guns always made me uncomfortable. The presence of the guns in the house actually did the complete opposite of what I thought it would. Whenever there was a gun around, I felt like a target. I felt like surely everyone knew the weapon was there and that some unscrupulous criminal was coming to get it. Coming to get me.

There’s also the superman invincibility that too many gun owners have that worries me. They believe that their gun is some sort of guard ring that will always be at the ready to protect them from harm. These men are convinced that they will always fire before the bad guy. So when the rest of us will walk, no run away from trouble, ‘Captain My Gun Will Save Me’ won’t.

PROFESSIONAL EDGE

I no longer buy the argument that men need guns to protect their families. Truth is, a professional baker will make a better pie than I can. Survival of the average civilian stands little chance against a criminal who fires guns for a living every day.

Then there is the total ‘mookut’ who believe that his gun is a status symbol. Who brandishes his weapon at every drop of a hat. His fuse is short and his trigger finger is happy, and I feel he’s the worst kind of carrier. That idiot is a danger to himself and society. And he and many others like him exist. ‘Concealed weapon’ is a foreign concept, that doesn’t fit into his daily show and tell. Everybody must know he carries a gun or he doesn’t feel good. Stupid.

I lived in Scotland where the police carried batons. Guns were not a natural part of a police officer’s daily beat. It was refreshing. And I felt safe.

I’m not suggesting that the police commissioner here resort to implementing the same thing. I know that would be a death sentence for the members of the force, who would all immediately become defenceless victims against Jamaican megamonster criminals. But a girl can only wish. Wish for a gunless Jamaica where neither criminals nor police have to use it as a tool of trade, and where citizens have no access to or feel they need guns to protect themselves and their families.