Satiricus is a complete dunce when it comes to finance and economics. Thank god for men like Greenbridge from APANU and Suspenders from TRYING-A-TING. These men could count up all those numbers in the budget right in their heads. Just thinking about it made Satiricus dizzy. Their talk in the Muckraker about how the NIS was going down the drain made him even dizzier. Now Satiricus wasn’t ready to hang up his pen, but hey! He had to worry what was down the road, right?
“Who talking about NIS?!!” Suresh bellowed indignantly. “Greenbridge from APANU?”
“Well he said that NIS running out of money, and the government might have to bail it out,” Satiricus pointed out anxiously to the fellas. “What will happen when we turn old men?”
“Bai leh me tell you something ‘bout Greenbridge,” Cappo muscled his way into the conversation. “Yuh know when NIS start?”
“No,” confessed Satiricus. “But it’s been a while, right?”
“1969 Budday! 1969! And you know how lang a man gat fo wuk fo qualify fo wan pension?”
Cappo cocked his eyebrows, insisting that Satiricus answer.
“That I know. At least 15 years to make 750 contributions,” said Satiricus proudly. He’d been discussing pensions with his wife.
“So my friend,” Suresh jumped back into the conversation. “It means that NIS didn’t have to pay out any pensions till 1985 – when Greenbridge was Finance Minister.”
“Well dem had to pay medical and suh,” chipped in Cappo. He chuckled. “Me remember abee neighba cut de back a he leg in he garden and he try fuh get ‘compey’”
“You mean compensation?” Satiricus asked, “What happened?”
“De NIS dacta mek he show how a canecutta can cut de back a he leg when he a cut cane in de field!” Cappo guffawed and the table joined in. They all remembered the old days when some ‘smart men’ tried to get something from the NIS.
“Well dem had to try something. Which canecutter live past 60 fo collect pension?” asked Bungi in justification.
“Well back to smart man Greenbridge,” continued Suresh determinedly. “He didn’t have to pay out anything from NIS but rather than invest the money so that the scheme would be solid when people start to get pensions, guess what he did?”
Everyone excepting Cappo looked at him blankly. Cappy blurted out to Satiricus, “Yuh genius Greenbridge put all de money fo guvment bonds!”
“They paid almost no interest and the government could spend the money to do whatever they want.” Suresh picked up the explanation. “Private plane for Burnham to travel!”
“And, me friend, dat is why de NIS in trouble today.” Cappo slammed the table. “Greenbridge!!”
“So what is Suspenders saying PPPEE did to NIS to make it bankrupt?” Suresh asked Satiricus.
“Well they made NIS pay $600 million for the CLICO headquarters,” replied Satiricus.
“An how much dem bin a sell de building fah?” Cappo enquired with a smile.
“Over $1 billion,” said Satiricus.
“Suh PPPEE do wan bad thing fuh get de building fuh $400 million less dan ‘e bin a sell fah?” Cappo asked with raised eyebrows.
“I’m just so bad with maths and economics!” confessed Satiricus.
“Suspenders is obviously worse than you,” Suresh comforted him. “No wonder he had to leave bookkeeping and go to law school while he collecting NIS pension!”

Satiricus was in awe. He could not believe that such men still walked on earth. Satiricus was talking about Ram Jhaat Tan and the Naga Man. Who else? The finance minister had talked for three hours about the budget. Thousands of items were mentioned, but these two noble souls honed right into the most important one: forcing the people in Linben to pay the same rate for electricity as the rest of Guyana! Oh! That cruel, heartless Ashanee and PPPEE! How could they? Only Ram Jhaat Tan and The Naga Man could see the injustice of it. Such elevated souls.
“Elevated souls, me arse!” exclaimed Cappo. “Deh only trying to mek trouble. Is politics deh playing.” He and Satiricus were the only ones in the dive, each sipping a beer.
“But those people are so far in the interior. Is tough, you know. They need a break,” commiserated Satiricus.
“Bai, is tough all around. Wha you think dem people in Lethem a pay? Dem deh mo far,” said Cappo flatly. “Ah catching me tail in de cane field and ah still gat fo pay me full light bill.”
“Aha! And that is why Ram Jhaat Tan and the Naga Man, are saints!” exclaimed Satiricus. “Even though they are from Berbice, they criticised Ashanee for giving you all in sugar $4 billion! Only saints would look out for strangers even when their own is in need.” Satiricus discreetly wiped a tear from his cheek.
“Ah wha wrang wid yuh?” Cappo was rough. “Me a cut cane, but like you brain get soft! KFC lose dem vote in Linben and deh trying to buy am back.”
“But why sugar got $4 billion?” countered Satiricus. His eyes teared up again. “Only Ram Jhaat Tan and the Naga Man could see the iniquity of it.” Satiricus sniffed a couple of times.
“Whe de ‘iniquity’ bin when Burnham and den de PPP tek $500 billion in today money in de sugar levy?”  Cappo asked. “If dem bin spend all dat money, sugar na would a deh in trouble today.” He slammed the table in disgust. “And dose two Neemahharam Ram Jhaat Tan and de Naga Man know dat!”
“But you real unfair to those two saints. They only criticise the sugar subsidy, because it hurt them to see how those people in Linben now got to pay full light bill.” Satiricus decided to try another tack with Cappo. “Those Lindeners used to get free electricity for years, you know. They don’t know how to pay light bills.”
“Really? And how much dem a pay now?” Cappo wanted to know.
“A quarter of what you pay,” Satiricus informed him. “It is going to be a shock, you know. And Only Ram Jhaat Tan and the Naga man feel for them.” The tears were rolling freely down Satiricus’ cheeks now.
“So all dem years, was me sugar levy bin a pay dem light bill?” said Cappo unbelievingly. “And you think dem two crooks na play politics?”
“But it’s the $4 billion sugar is getting and the KFC still criticise it that makes me admire them,” Satiricus replied stubbornly.
“Me think you bin a school too much. De government cyan leh sugar fall. Sugar a bring in foreign currency so abee can pay fo foreign thing all abee like!” Cappo. “And de KFC blasted well know dat! Deh just playing de ass and politics!”
Satiricus gave up. The tears were flowing too fast now.

Satiricus is happy. He is happy that APANU has rejected Pressie’s claim that the opposition was a ‘dictator of one’ in Parliament. How dare he?! The voice of the people is the voice of God, wasn’t it? And the people had spoken. The people had given APANU/KFC 33 seats in Parliament. APANU/AFC was not like the PPPEE – they were not fooling around. The people had given APANU/KFC power in Parliament. They were a dictatorship of 33, not 1! To paraphrase Rodney, it was “People’s power! Many dictators!”

“Well, the party of Rodney is now with the party of Burnham,” Satiricus explained. “Philosophies change!”

“But ah wha Pressie mean by a “dictatorship of one”?” Cappo wanted to know. “Na all 33 ah dem vote fo de Speaker an na gie PPPEE nothing?”

“That’s right. I was there!” confided Teacher Samad. “Even the Naga Man who Grain Ja turn down.”

“Wha yuh mean ‘even’ Naga Man?” Bungi objected. “Yuh mean ‘especially’ Naga Man!”

“What you mean?” Hari wanted to know.

“Chap, if yuh want fo see dictator, wait till Naga Man get ‘e haan pan wan committee or something,” promised Bungi. “Me know de man fram nuff PPP Congress.”

“OK! OK! I won’t ask about Grain Ja,” said Hari. “I know he get forty years training to be a dictator in the army. But what about Roop na Rain?”

“Oh, yuh think because he a like poem and painting, he cyan be wan dictator?” Cappo wanted to know. “Leh me tell yuh something. Hitler paint picture; Stalin write poetry and Saddam bin like to feed bird!”

“So what Roop na Rain do?” demanded Hari.

“Well bai, you gat fo watch when dem kind a man get dem hand pan small thing, and den you gon know wha dem go do if dem get de big thing.”

“OK…” Hari prompted.

“Remember when Roop na Rain na bin gat wuk and Lincoln de Loud, gyaam wan squeeze a Critchlow?” Cappo waited for an acknowledgement.

“Yeah?”

“Well, check who he invite fram outside fo give lecture! Every man jack fram WAPA!” Shouted Cappo. “Wha yuh think he go do when he get he haan pan some real money.”

“I won’t’ ask about all them soldiers Grain bring into APNU. But what about the youths from YCT?” Suresh had gotten into the issue.

“Man, like yuh forget about 0.007 Bond, or wha?” Cappo smirked. “De chap na even get in parliament and he pistol whip some barber!”

“And all a dem bin a march and threaten Suruj ballsy and Go Kool!” Bungi hasn’t forgotten. “is a good set a dictator coming up!”

“All right, how about Ram Jhaat Tan?” Suresh wanted to know.

“Yuh know dem vote he president a wan religious group in town?” Cappo asked. Suresh acknowledged he did.

“Well after de voting he wife tell him, ‘Darling congratulations! You won 99.6 per cent of the

 votes! Less than 1 per cent didn’t vote for you. What more could you possibly want?” Ram Jhaat Tan twist he mouth tell she: ‘Their names.’

The table cracked up and agreed that Pressie better wake up and smell the coffee.

Satiricus is such a happy man. He’s so lucky to be living in a country filled with such magnificent legal brains like Dick Poo Run and No-gel Huge. Lord knows why these legal luminaries have not been conferred ‘silk’ as yet. Here was Satiricus, all concerned about the corruption that the Muckraker was always carrying on about – and in the stroke of two letters to the press, these paragons of jurisprudential wit and wisdom had each solved the problem.

 “Can you believe it?” Satiricus asked the conclave of comrades at the usual watering hole. “Dick Poo Run offer Pressie to help clean up corruption, pro bono!”

“Dat Dick Poo Run a something else, eh?” exclaimed Cappo admiringly. “But a wha ‘pro bono’?”

“Ah wan bone like Samson and de jackass jawbone,” Bungi laughed. “Samson bin really clean up dem Philistines!  Me see de pictcha!”

“’Pro bono’ mean ‘for free’ fellas.” Teacher Samad smiled. “Dick Poo Run means he gon work free if Pressie wants him to clean up corruption.”

“Hold it!” exclaimed Suresh. “Is not the same Dick Poo Run who does defend all those drug dealers and get them off on technicalities?” Suresh sounded affronted.

“So what that got to do with the man ‘free’ offer?” Hari wanted to know.

“Man, like you bin to school in August, or what?” Suresh countered. “Is not them same drug dealers that do most of the bribing and corruption?”

“Aha! Me see wha yuh getting at,” said Cappo. “So Dick Poo Run can help corruption if he stap defending drug dealers!”

“Sounds logical to me,” smirked Suresh.

“Well, is not only you who don’t agree with Dick Poo Run.” Teacher Samad pointed out. “The other lawyer who does defend them drug dealers, No-gel Huge, also says Poowan offer can’t work.”

“That’s the fella who wants to be Senior Counsel?” Suresh asked.

“The one and same,” smiled Samad. “Now with KFC.”

“Man, dis like de pitcha “Godfather”!” Cappo couldn’t contain his excitement. “Is wha you does call dem lawyer who does advise dem Mafia Boss?”

“Consigliere,” offered Teacher Samad.  “But No-gel Huge didn’t just criticise Dick Poo Run. He said that is not people who could stop corruption but institutions.”

“Now is de same schupidness yuh gone back pan!” shouted Cappo. “A wha ‘institution’? Me bin only hear about Berbice Mental Institution.”

“Well, that is one kind of ‘institution’” smiled Teacher Samad. “Institution just means an organisation to do a particular job.”

“So why you na seh so in de fust place?!” Bungi said exasperatedly. “But na people gat fo be in de organisation?”

“Yeah, right! So wha No-gel Huge mean?” protested Bungi. “How organisation can wuk without people?”

“And,” continued Bungi, “how No-Gel Huge gon get a good organisation or INSTITUTION if he na gat good people fo run am?”

“Bai, all of you getting sidetracked.” Suresh butted in. “You want to know why No-gel Huge oppose Dick Poo-Run?’

All eyes swivelled to Suresh. “Why?!!”

“Dick Poo Run didn’t just say he gon help Pressie ‘fight corruption’. He said he will prosecute Bip Modu Ball and all who help him.”

“And…?” plugged Samad.

    “One of Bip Modu Ball main helpers was No-Gel Huge wife!!” Suresh smiled expansively.

    Satiricus sighed. Same old corruption; same old swindlers!

Satiricus is furious. With himself, that is. Why’d he have to be toiling away in the newspaper trenches, placing his life on the line every day, while others were so much better off? If you think he’s exaggerating, try badgering sources for news while wining and dining them in fancy restaurants seven days a week. It’s hell on the liver, not to mention the waistline. Anyhow, back to the matter at hand. If only he’d been a worker in the Public Service, he would’ve been on easy street. He would have had HatTrick Fraud representing him.

“De man demanding 25 per cent fo public servants!” Cappo’s voice was filled with admiration. “You gat to hand it to HatTrick; he na mess around.”

“Well, he figures, the government wouldn’t want to deal with a public strike right now,” suggested Hari.

“Heh! Heh! De last time dem bin pan strike dem get 39 per cent!” Cappo reminded everyone. “HatTrick na forget dat.”

“Now I know why Link-Can bitch-slapped Ram Jhaat Tan for complaining about public servants salaries,” Suresh exclaimed. “That idiot was probably going to ask for the measly 8 per cent those hard working workers got last year.”

“Ram Jhaat Tan na know how hard dem people does wuk,” Cappo replied. “Last year me had to run twenty time to NIS in town. Dem still cyan find me paper, but dem a wuk prappa hard fo look fo am.”

“Yeah. I had to get a birth certificate. I only had to run ten times to town,” said Samad softly. “25 per cent is not anything to reward those servants of the people.”

“Well, the 25 per cent raise HatTrick calling for is not all,” butted in Hari. “He want bigger loans for public servants who get duty free cars.”

“And mo allowance!” Cappo couldn’t contain his admiration. “Travelling allowance! Subsistence allowance! Uniform allowance! Meal allowance! And Housing allowance!”

“Don’t forget HatTrick demanding more training,” Samad the teacher was covering his ground. “You have to be keep up with the latest computers and so on.”

“So what alyou demanding, Cappo?” demanded Hari with a nudge into the ribs of the battle-hardened canecutter.

“Bai, wha mo abee want?” sighed Cappo. “Abee na coop up in wan air-condition room all day like dem public servant. We a get fo be in the fresh air and sun whole day!”

“And abee a get fo exercise!” joined in his partner Bungi. “Me and Cappo gat fo cut-and-load 7 tons every day now!”

“Man, that sound like the good life to me!” said Suresh. “So how come I hear Guysuco can’t get canecutters nowadays?”

“Wha me gon tell you?” Cappo shook his head sadly. “Dem young bai na want fresh air and exercise. Dem wan fuh lack-up in office!”

“Dem soft!” exclaimed Bungi scornfully.

“But is HatTrick too, you know,” suggested Cappo. “De man bin around since a doan know when. And he now mo strong wid he friends in parliament.”

“Well, I can understand why the youth want HatTrick to represent them!” Satiricus offered. “With the PPP in power, the public service is on permanent go-slow!”

“Less work; more money and more benefits! It’s the life of milk and honey!” concluded Samad.

Satiricus is confused. Now this is not an unusual circumstance, of course. But the way politics is going, he’s thrown for a loop. Things look real upside down. He reads the papers – the opposition approved the president’s speech. He’s shocked. Well, they did express “disappointment” but that was kind of weak, wasn’t it. It sounded almost British: “Good show, Donnie Boy! But you could have done a wee bit better!”
But over at the MuckrakerKN, Glennie the owner was going ballistic. The government had released details of the deals Glennie had sworn was ‘shady’ but here he was – raking the government over the coals something fierce. Satiricus shook his head: who’s really the opposition?
“Bai Satiricus, yuh really does worry too much,” said Cappo consolingly. “Fuh know wha going on, yuh gat fo read between de lines!”
“So read it for me.” Satiricus looked around the table. “All I see is blank space between the lines.”
“Well, leh me tell yuh about APANU and KFC. Dem a political party,” explained Cappo. “Dem gat people who bin to school. Dem na tek everything personal.”
Suresh could see where Cappo was going. “They don’t want to bruk up the place. They want something to be there in case they get into power.”
“Yep! You na see how Naga Man, who think he shoulda bin president before Donald, just seh he shoulda talk about unity government?” Cappo looked at Satiricus.
“You mean, Naga Man talk soft because he wanted to get minister wuk?” asked Satiricus uncertainly. “So what’s wrong with Glennie?”
“Aha! Dat is a man who just opposing because he bitter!” Cappo was triumphant and hit the table for emphasis. “Glennie bin think he an Jagdeo bin a friend and he woulda get preference.”
“And when he had to join the line he became more opposition than the opposition!” Hari chipped in. “I remember when Glennie and the Muckraker was used to be strong PPPEE!”
“Yes, a lot of people forget nowadays,” Suresh complained. “They believe his crap about ‘democracy’ and so on.”
“Remember when he seh he and Donald a friend, too?” Cappo continued. “He think now he gon get preference.”
“But he get larwah!” chuckled Hari. “Is not only Moses!”
“Is na only dah,” Cappo leaned forward. “De most hurtful thing was when Donald continue wid Jagdeo plans. Dah hurt Glennie liver too bad!”
“But the plans like hydro power and having a franchise name-brand hotel like Marriott make sense,” protested Satiricus.
“Hold it there! The hydro power I can understand.” Interrupted Suresh. “But Glennie has a point about the Marriott. Where we’re going to get the people to fill it up?”
“Bai, you sound just like Glennie.” Cappo was abrupt. “You only thinking about de present. A leader got to plan fo de future.”
“That’s right, Satiricus!” Hari jumped in. “If we get oil in the next two years, you know how many people will be flocking to Guyana?”
“Well, Glennie must think dem people gon stay wid dem Poo-wa and Moussie like he does do when he go to New York!” Cappo chuckled. Everyone clinked bottles.
Satiricus’ eyes had been opened.

Satiricus was inspired. Red Thread had just picketed Parliament wanting to know why the women parliamentarians were not representing “grassroots” women. Good for them! This was the ‘new dispensation’, wasn’t it? He’d never quite thought about politics this way. But if it was good enough for women, it should be good enough for men. No? It was high time he spoke to his buddies to put some pressure on male parliamentarians. God knows that the fellas in the backstreet dive were grassroots enough!
“Look how they only debating about committees,” complained Hari, “Like they forget is we men put them there!”
“And the thing is, all the leaders are men! Speaker, Opposition leader Government leader… everybody MEN!” agreed Suresh. “They forget who they are. We got to put pressure on them!”
“Abee gat fuh get wan name!” Cappo was enthusiastic about the idea. “How about ‘Bamboo Fire?”
“Sounds grassroots. I remember the folk song we used to sing in school!” Kuldeep looked nostalgic.
“But is not everybody want their food ready by six o’clock! And that is what people think about when they remember Bamboo Fire.” Suresh grinned.
“Yeah! Think how it will sound: “Bamboo Fire pickets parliament! Demand food by day clean!” Hari chuckled at the image. “If the women got Red Thread, how about Fire Rope for we men?”
“Awright! Awright! So wha you think abee should demand?” Cappo wanted to get on with it.
“As a grassroot man, de beer price gat fuh come down!” Bungi looked quite agitated. “Man cyaan live pon bread alone, you know!”
“Well we should be able to get we boy Aneel NandaBall to sponsor a beer bill,” Kuldeep volunteered. “The man reputation in the EC bars make we look like a Sunday School Choir!”
“Abee should picket fuh Manee come back!” suggested Cappo.
“Why? You want abee fo become tourist?” Bungi was confused.
“Nah!” responded Cappo. “De man big up Main Street Lime when he bin a Minista. This time we could picket fuh him to have lime in every village every Friday!”
“That’s a manly undertaking. Very grassroots,’ agreed Hari enthusiastically. “Girls and beer flowing!”
“Well if we will lime every Friday, then we should also picket for have Friday off with pay,” proposed Kuldeep.
“Well we shouldn’t have any problem finding a sponsor for that bill,” pointed our Suresh. “All the parliamentarians only work about four days a month!”
“And dem a still sleep pan de job,” chortled Cappo, “You see Ram Jhaat Tan nearly knock he head pan ‘e desk when ‘e fall asleep last Friday?” The table erupted in laughter. Evidently everyone had seen the clip.
“OK. Back to the protest! We have to think of all grassroots men. How about Viagra for the older guys?” Hari said solicitously.
“You would have no problem sponsoring that one,” smiled Kuldeep. “Bipartisan! Grain Ja, Roop na Rain from one side and Hands from the other!”
“OK fellas. Me think abee gat enough issues.” Cappo said with finality. “When abee gon picket?”
“Next Thursday?” proposed Suresh.
“Alright! Leh abee ask abee wife if abee can go.” Cappo said.
Everyone agreed and trooped home to get permission.

Satiricus is a dunderhead when it comes to maths. In the new lexicon, he’s always been ‘mathematically challenged’. His GCE maths results (yes, he from that era) were nothing to shout about. If the truth be told, he’s always been very quiet about it – and with good reason. So when he heard the government talking about “proportionality”, he got that old, sinking (math) feeling. Was it simple proportion? Inverse proportion? Or, God forbid, logarithmic proportions! Then he became angry. What right the PPPEE had to bring maths into politics?
“Bai, na tek worries!” Cappo said comfortingly. “None a dem fellas know maths too. Look how APANU still cyan count up 1900 statement of polls – dem SoPs deh fight fa!”
“You mean SoP mean ‘statement of polls’?” Bungi asked with a start. “Me hear Grain Ja seh it mean ‘Standard Operating Procedures.”
“See wha me mean?” said Cappo with a smirk. “An yuh think Grain Ja on know ‘bout proportionality?”
“Well, they have Hasling Paris to teach them. Burn Ham said he was a real maths wiz,” contributed Samad, ever the teacher.
“Bai, it gat maths in book and it gat maths in life.” Cappo replied with emphasis. “Burn Ham gyaam de bauxite company fo run and look wha he do wid am!” Cappo couldn’t keep off the smirk from his face.
“All right! All right! But what is this proportionality the PPPEE wants in Parliament?” Satiricus’ eyes still had that slightly dazed look that maths always brought on.
All eyes turned to Samad. He was the teacher wasn’t he? “Well, what the PPPEE is saying is if they get 49.23 per cent of the votes in the country, they should get 49.23 per cent of the members of the Committee of Selection.”
“So, how many members this committee has?” Satiricus still had his glazed look. Percentages were also maths and they didn’t make him feel any better.
“Now it has 10. And 49.23 per cent of 10 is 4.9 persons.” Samad concluded.
Satiricus now had a triumphant look, “I may not be good at maths, but how de arse you could get 4.9 persons? They will take something off Gale?” Everybody chuckled. Looks like they agreed that Gale could do with “something’’ less.
“Aha!” interrupted Samad. “Do you remember ‘rounding off’ in maths?”
“God, no!” retorted Satiricus. “The moment I finished GCE, I purged everything from the old brainbox.”
“Well, if the decimal is greater than half or .5 then the number becomes the next whole number.” Samad finished.
Satiricus’ glazed look had returned. “Yes? Yes?”
“Well, Jeez! The PPPEE’s 4.9 seats become five seats!” Samad rolled his eyes.
“But that is what the PPPEE wants?” exclaimed Satiricus. “What’s the problem?”
“De problem is dat you chaps think maths is de same in politics like in books,” Cappo was scoffing.
“What you mean?” enquired Satiricus worriedly. He thought he was over with the maths business.
“Yuh remember wha Eric seh when Jamaica pull out fram de 10-member WI Federation?” Cappo challenged the table.
“10 minus one leaves zero,” said Samad with a smile.
“Dat’s right! Dat is political maths,” Cappo agreed. “And now APANU/KFC gat one seat majority in Parliament – dem gon play political maths!”
“It looks just like ‘wrong and strong’ to me,” muttered Satiricus.
“Now yuh understand political maths!” cried Cappo triumphantly.

Satiricus likes sugar. It is not that he is a ‘sweet man’, but his cuppa tea must have its two or three spoons of sugar stirred in. So Satiricus takes an interest in what goes on in sugar. When the fellas in the cane fields start to down their tools, he began to feel withdrawal symptoms just thinking what might be down the road. More of that Guatemalan sugar that tasted like mud!

He was therefore quite grateful that Ram Jhaat Tan and the KFC got involved with the striking workers. For the life of him he couldn’t believe that the government thought these patriots were fomenting strikes. The government was so not with it! The Jhaat and his comrades were simply trying to ensure Satiricus and his ilk got their sugar fix!

“Ah wha wrang wid you, man?” Cappo the canecutter sounded livid. “Dem chaps just stirring up trouble!”

“What trouble?” queried Hari with just a hint of a twinkle in his eyes.

“You stupid or you just a play stupid?” Cappo wasn’t mincing any words. “KFC just fooling dem canecutters fo’ get dem votes!”

“But you didn’t hear what the Jhaat said? They just collecting information to pass on to GAWOO,” retorted Satiricus smugly. You could tell he took his vested interest in the sugar supply very seriously.

“Yeah! Naga Man said how he and Komah are friends,” pointed out Suresh.

“Wid friends like dat, who need enemies?” concluded Cappo morosely. “Dem chaps just mean fuh destroy de industry suh deh can blame de PPP.”

“But all they doing is listening to the workers!” protested Satiricus.

“Suh whe dem bin all dis time?” countered Cappo. “Abee canecutters always gat problems. Dat is how abee stay. Na matter wha abee get, abee like fight fo mo!”

“Man, you sound like management! Like you don’t want more money?” Hari bantered.

“Listen budday! Me bin in dis thing laang now.” Cappo had gotten quite serious. “Me like mo money, but me know dat it na suh easy. Me na waan lose corn and husk de same time.”

“But in case the industry close down, you got Kiss Soon lecturing to alyuh!” Suresh smiled. “You could always teach at UG!”

Even Cappo chuckled. “Dat chap doan know he ass fram he elbow! When dem bais tell him about de cane pan de “dam bed”, he think dem a cuss dem bed! Damn bed!!” The table cracked up. Bottles clinked.

“De man write dat dem bai tell he Jagdeo call he ugly?” Bungi got into the gaff. “But what de fella seh was, ‘Ah hear Jagdo seh yuh ugly. But you so ugly, you gon give Freddy Kruegger nightmares!” More clinks.

“OK fellas. Let’s get back to sugar.” Satiricus looked at Cappo. “If KFC poaching sugar workers and not helping GAWOO like they say, why is the government and GAWOO not straightening them out?”

“Bai Satiricus, de government gat fuh do best fuh de whole country,” Cappo smiled. “Dem already get criticise by KFC for putting in $4 billion to save de sugar industry.

“Dis same APANU dat KFC tie bundle wid, bin a tell everybody dat canecutta a get too much money! Abee na fotget.” His partner Bungi decided to have the last word.

Cappo wouldn’t let him. “Day does run till night catch am!”

Satiricus is sceptical about getting involved in “family business”. Most times they can turn around and take out their fury on the outsider. Satiricus is talking about the ruckus between APANU and WAPA. Mouth open and story jump out: it wasn’t a pretty mouth and it wasn’t a pretty story. Minnette Bacchus, long-time apologist for the PNCEE, is furious that some WAPA big-wigs are advocating that PNCEE fold up its tent and disappear into APANU. It all played out on the Bench Cack website.
“The PNCEE and WAPA people were peacefully discussing their future now that they are together in APNU,” explained Satiricus. “And then the WAPA fellow goes and publishes the private discussions in his newspaper: “APANU- annulment or divorce?””
“Ah see Minnette call de WAPA ‘racist’!” cackled Cappo. “OW!! Nothing hurt a WAPA man dan if you call he ‘racist’!”
“Well, how dare he say that Burn Ham rigged elections and assassinated Rod Knee?” protested Hari.
“Because it’s true?” retorted Samad with a smile.
“That’s neither here nor there,” remonstrated Suresh sternly. “Minnette said the “’assassination’ charge is just ‘political folklore’.”
“And Roop na Rain explained Burn Ham’s reason – in the ‘folklore’, of course,” Samad interjected. “ Rod Knee was stockpiling weapons and planning revolution. Burn Ham had good reasons to do what he did, folklore wise.”
“But dat is what hurt de WAPA man,” Cappo explained patiently. “After all dat Roop na Rain do fuh dem, de PNCEE people want fuh throw out he fram parliament.”
“Really? How they gon do that?” Hari wanted to know.
“Well, it seems that Roop na Rain is a citizen of Britain and Guyana,” Satiricus said. “The PNCEE can’t trust his loyalties.”
“Deh damn right! Yuh can’t trust a man wid a foreign passport,” Cappy was firm, as he saw Satiricus’ eyebrows touched his hairline. “Doan look at me like dat! So wha wrang if PNCEE tek money from England and de USA, fuh years after dem throw out de PPPEE? PNCEE nationalist to de bone, bai!”
“Hey! The law is the law… and the PNCEE always work with the law,” smirked Suresh. “Even though they stretch it now and then! Minnette is saying Roop na Rain is breaking the law!” “I think what got the PNCEE and Minnette mad is the WAPA people feel that PNCEE should fade away and let APANU take over,” pointed out Samad.
“Yup! I see Corbie tell them where to stick that idea, last weekend!” Hari smiled widely. “They think Corbin going to the retirement home?” “But you na think PNC ungrateful?” asked Cappo. “De WAPA chap seh “nuff Blacks” only vote fuh APANU/PNCEE because WAPA was there wid dem moral voting.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing Minette tell the WAPA idiot: Nonsense!” Hari was getting heated. “And that WAPA never won a ‘complete parliamentary seat’. They always depended on ‘left-over votes’!!!”
“Ouch!! Dat’s nasty! But dem WAPA people moral, you know. Dem does walk pan water!” Cappo laughed. “Da musee bring in some vote.”
Hari sighed: “I’ll just quote Minnette for you: ‘The defecation pushed by WAPA in the name of Rodney must be rejected by each and every one of us. For it is brutal, vicious, intolerant, dishonest, lawless, and self serving.’”
As Satiricus warned, it’s neither a pretty mouth nor a pretty story.