This country ain’t had no television ‘til the 1980’s. True, true story, I ain’t telling no lie.
What me and my family, relatives and friends had for entertainment?
Real reality, and conversation...gyaffing in we verandah, and around the table.
And stories like what my brother who live Abroad email to tell me yesterday.
He ask me when last I see M., a man he used to know here. Then he launch into a tale of ‘something’ that happen to M. a while back...
Years ago a man chopped off M.’s head, so the story goes, and M. walked with his head from Plaisance backdam to I.B. who took him to hospital where he was declared dead.
He miraculously recovered and every year since then, on his birthday, M. would find the man who chopped him, and beat him up.
One year M. was in the BUSH doing gold digging work, on his birthday and was lamenting that "this year de man escape". That same day he heard that the man was in a camp 20 miles away.
M. packed up his tools and told his companions "ah coming back later".
He walked the 20 miles, beat up the man and walked the 20 miles back to the camp where he had a little sleep before morning.
As we does say in Guyana, “tek half, leff half.” Take half, leave half.
Believe what you want to believe, and leave the rest.