Open letter to masqueraders
From our Files 39 years ago
ONCE AGAIN on the eve of the national festival rumours are pervading the land there will be trouble for Carnival.
Once again there is talk that this so-called revolutionaries will choose the period while the nation is on its annual spree, to stage their revolt and take over.
And who can blame peace-loving fete-loving citizens from being scared at all this trouble talk?
There is evidence of a vast amount of guns and ammunition in the hands of the troublemakers.
But the fact is the arms and ammunition are really in the hands of criminals who are using it to fatten their pockets.
All this talk about money for the revolution is just a lot of eyewash by crooks who believe that they are on to a good thing, and they will carry on their banditry in the name of the revolution.
What revolution?
All this talk of revolution and coup by certain forces is a thing of the past.
Look around you at the so-called leaders of the revolution and you will see for yourselves that the fellows are no longer in the limelight.
Geddes Granger walks about the streets no a broken man with no following; Clive Nunez has taken to using his movie camera and has shut up his mouth; Dave D’arbeau has got troubles of his own; Blackwood and his crowd of expatriates are else where fermenting their own trouble.
George Weekes is fighting for his life in the oil belt.
Raffique Shah has taken a backdoor entry into sugar in a vain hope that he can make.
But there are crooks operating under the cover of revolutionary talk and bleeding the country dry with their vicious hold-ups and shoot-outs.
Gradually the police are winning the battle against this unscrupulous mob, and Trinidadians are beginning to find that they are just being used as pawns in a big swindle.
All this talk about trouble for Carnival is being spread by the crooks for their own purposes or by the faded revolutionaries in the vain hope that one day they will come back to glory.
Every revolutionary sees himself as a messiah saving the people, and he eventually becomes punch drunk as he continues to relive his moments of fame and fortune.
But one thing the revolution and its aftermath has proved is that the business of living, and carrying on, is more vital than any revolution.
So that, since 1970, two more Carnivals have come and gone and we have all lived in the shadow of terror.
Once again Carnival is here and the cry is on – “Troubles for Mass”. It is time for the citizenry of this country to get a break after three years of unrest and unhappiness.
Carnival is our biggest national festival and too valuable to this country in terms of talent and revenue for us to knock ourselves so.
Thousands of visitors come to shores; Trinidadians return home from all corners of the earth to enjoy this great show and generally it is like an affirmation of our own confidence in ourselves.
As a nation we have little else to offer to the world but the by-products of Carnival – calypso, costumes, steelband and our general love for music and the arts. Are we going to let a few malcontents hurt us?
We have recently come from a steelband convention which has shown that our panmen, long regarded as the bottom of the ladder, in fact show definite signs that they are willing to take their leaders in our community.
They are now gearing to move onto bigger things and in every sphere of cultural activities we are growing up.
But behind it all, is the big national festival – Carnival, which is very important to our well-being.
But one thing is clear – Carnival is not the province of the bigshots of this country and in fact it is the great equaliser. At Carnival time, there are no class distinctions when you are on the road and the steelband is beating out the road march.
This then is an appeal to all Trinidadians to allow us to play our mas’ in peace, and stop trying to destroy the one thing that we cherish most.
Stop playing the ass, and let us play mas’.
Carnival is the Little People’s fete, and let’s keep it that way.
