And the band plays on - the Peter O'Connor column

A reader—close family really, but living away—expressed her disappointment that my recent commentaries about T&T are worrying and depressing. Could I not write about nicer things---uplifting stuff? 

She is right of course. My recent columns depress me, and I wish I was writing things which are uplifting, and they are many. Trinidad and Tobago remains, like the vicar’s egg, “excellent in parts”.

But, unlike the vicar, I do not wish to have to consume the other parts—the rottenness—for my meal every day. And this indeed is our failing. We point joyously at Carnival, Nylon Pool and the Waterfront and fool ourselves that these jewels make us a wonderful society. 

We talk proudly about the blending and the bonding of our different races and religions even as our politicians and commentators try to drive us further apart than we ever were in the intolerant past.

But we cannot continue to simply polish these jewels while our robes and skins rot because of the enduring neglect of all of the foundations of a civilized society. And we really shining up (sic) these jewels for our fiftieth birthday! 

But what about the robe upon which they are to be pinned, and the neck upon which they are to be hung? The robes are torn, tattered and filthy. The flesh bruised and bleeding from the murders and road deaths.

But we don’t want to notice these things, do we? We just want to have one more Danse Macabre before the palace, with all our dreams and false hopes, collapses. So we just shine up the jewels, bring out the bands, and set off the fireworks. We will have a lovely fete. We could do that!

One hundred years and two months ago, the RMS Titanic struck an iceberg. She was an unsinkable ship on her maiden voyage. So, she touched a piece of ice as she sailed through the night. Everyone on board—from captain to cook, from first-class passengers to those immigrants down in “stowage”(the bowels of the ship) was reassured and reassuring. The Titanic was unsinkable, and there was nothing to worry about. 

So, up in the first class ballroom, the band played on, and the nobles and their ladies danced happily. Oh, yes! There was some excitement—chunks of ice from the iceberg had fallen on some of the decks.

But suddenly, and while the band played on, the Titanic sank! And while some were saved, many dressed in their finery, and with their jewels and medals all sparkling and shining, were drowned—the rich, the poor and the crew.

My friends, I want to fete too for this anniversary. I want to dress up in such finery as I possess, and dance while the band plays on-happy, uplifting and patriotic music. 

I want to hug and kiss our most beautiful in the universe women at midnight that night. I want to marvel at the fireworks we will set off as we turn fifty. I am a citizen, a patriot and a traditionalist. I want all the proud pomp and glamour and glory of this celebration.  

But I fear the tilting of the dance floor, as our ship of state dips bow-first under the waves, as the band plays on --“This is not a fete inside of here. This is madness!”? 

I fear that the fireworks will become the red flares of distress, as the band plays on-- “Captain, The ship is sinking!”?  I fear the cries of the poor and helpless down in stowage as they drown in floods even as they have no water to drink. I fear the terror of those being murdered as we all seek to take and escape. And I worry for those whom we did not teach anything about life, now that they are killing and dying.

And I will watch as the rich and famous, with their jeweled gowns, board their lifeboats—at Piarco, while the band plays on—“Nah leaving!”?

And we who stay because we must, will have to survive the cold and stormy waters, and fight each other for flotsam to cling to, until we realize, as we must, that we must join together to survive. And when we do that, we will sing, because there is no band any more, Black Stalin’s “We can make it if we try!”

And we will! 

We will rebuild this society, and this nation, without oil money and handouts and deceit and corruption and crime and injustice. We will have earned our independence, without the burden of oil. 

We will become a proud people because we did this for ourselves. And when the work is done, we will have our celebration and sing, with the Black Man, all “About Dorothy”! While the band plays on.