Empty and disappointed

This is a warning
The winds are changing
The people shouting
The lighters sparking
The day is dawning
Dreads are bursting
Drums are beating
Spliffs are burning
Fires lighting
Starters bouncing
The ground it shaking
The trees awaking
The voices calling
The lion roaring
The lion roaring
Tief Head, Nicholai

In the absence of reason, intelligence or any suggestion that anyone is concerned about issues, I wish everyone would just shut the hell up.
Turn off the loud speakers, tone down the rhetoric and give us Trinbagonians a break from all of this.
The election season has left me feeling empty and not a little disappointed in what passes for leadership.
I wonder if they really think that we’re fooled by their antics.
Everyone is focusing on Election Day itself. Between the violence and vague promises, it seems like this election season has been a big exercise in distraction.
And I wonder what will happen on November 6. Will our lives change so radically or will it be the same khaki pants?
Certainly the anticipated victor will spend a lot of time preening and betty goaty-ing people.
Because I don’t have a party card and I didn’t sponsor anybody’s campaign, I’m not particularly moved by the elections. I feel no hope for November 6.
Boredom hit me like a slap in the face this week. I tried to listen to a couple of the broadcasts of political rallies this week and managed about five minutes each. I listened to the roars of approval from the renta crowds, jumping up and saying ray, regardless of what tata the person of the platform was saying.
It is Trinidad at its lowest. Stinking dutty tongue Trinis wining down low for a jersey, wallowing in filth spewing from the platforms. Possibly there are some who manage to say something vaguely intelligent. Who make an attempt to compensate for the empty promises and the economically unsound proposals in their manifiascoes.
But they get lost in the din. The new politics is really a microwaved version of the old. And the old is so backward, shortsighted and masculinist that even the women have to resort to mud-slinging and cock-fighting in order to be seen and heard.
The unfortunate thing about our unfortunate version of democracy is that the representatives we vote or hire to take care of our business, don’t necessarily have to answer to us for another five years.
I guess we’re all looking for something to believe in. We all want to believe that these people have our best interests at heart. Why else would they subject themselves to such scrutiny?
So we hold on to the words of politicians in the same way that women want to believe the words of smooth talking lovers.
Under all the lights, cameras and over zealous promises, there is such an astounding banality to the political landscape of this country, I want to weep.
I was wondering if this election would have been my first. If I would finally have done my civic duty and dipped my finger.
But I still have nothing and no-one to vote for. I still can’t trust myself to choose a leader from the three that have presented themselves.
What emerged at the end of the election season is that there really isn’t much of a difference between the three parties. They can say what they like but until we really begin to take ownership of Trinidad and Tobago with all its problems, complexities and challenges. Until political leaders take time to walk in communities whether or not they have cameras following them, they’re not really interested in building communities.
So maybe the PNM will win. And maybe the UNC will collapse under of the immense weight of it’s own pointlessness. And maybe COP will recoup and do the ground work necessary to them truly becoming a viable alternative.
But what happens to the rest of us who don’t have friends in high places or enough disposable income not to care or are so out of the system we have nothing to lose?
The rest of us: the artists, the workers, the activists, the frustrated students need to get a new understanding of democracy.
That regardless of who is in power we have a right to bun fire on the injustices that will continue on November 6.
The real work starts the day after. I hope we are all too exhausted by all the jumping and waving.