Forever Proud

The Jamaican National Anthem Words by Hugh Sherlock, music by Robert Lightbourne Eternal Father, Bless our Land, Guard us with thy mighty hand, Keep us free from evil powers, Be our light through countless hours, To our leaders, great defender, Grant true wisdom from above, Justice, truth be ours forever, Jamaica, land we love, Jamaica, Jamaica, Jamaica, land we love Teach us true respect for all, Stir response to duty's call, Strengthen us the weak to cherish, Give us vision lest we perish, Knowledge send us Heavenly Father, Grant true wisdom from above, Justice, truth be ours forever, Jamaica, land we love, Jamaica, Jamaica, Jamaica, land we love The Jamaican National Pledge Before God and All mankind. I pledge the love and loyalty of my heart The wisdom and courage of my mind, The strength and vigour of my body in the service of my fellow citizens. I promise to stand up for justice, Brotherhood and Peace, to work diligently and creatively, To think generously and honestly, so that, Jamaica may, under God, increase in beauty, fellowship and prosperity, and play her part in advancing the welfare of the whole human race. The Jamaican National School Song - I Pledge My Heart

I pledge my heart forever To serve with humble pride This shining homeland, ever So long as earth abide I pedge my heart, this island As God and faith shall live My work, my strength, my love, and My loyalty to give. O green isle of the Indies, Jamaica, strong and free, Our vows and loyal promises, O heartland, 'tis to thee Jamaica Land of Beauty Words by A.L. Hendricks/Music by Lloyd Hall Jamaica land of beauty, We promise faithfully To serve thee with our talents And bring our gifts to thee. Jamaica we will always In honour of thy name, Work steadfastly and wisely And never bring thee shame. From riverside to mountain From cane field to the sea, Our hearts salute Jamaica, Triumphant, proud and free. Together in our country, In love and brotherhood. We'll work and play in freedom, As all God's children should, With hearts and hands united In thanks for everything, That God has given unto us, Together let us sing, From riverside to mountain From cane field to the sea, Our hearts salute Jamaica, Triumphant, proud and free.

Nah fatten fowl fi mongoose

A recent article in the Jamaica Gleaner caught my attention. Entitled "Sex Crackdown", it examined the carnal abuse problem in Jamaica. This is, by no means, a new problem and studies don't necessarily prove an increase in carnal abuse incidents. Overshadowed by more seemingly serious topics such as the murder rate, drug trafficking and unfair politics, this problem has been under-examined by the Jamaican media. Perhaps the issue didn't carry enough weight to sell newspapers (homosexuality did).

To be fair, there have been sprinkles of articles in the past five years but rarely has outrage been expressed. It's as though nobody wants to be the bad guy and there's a clear reason for that. Our Fathers, Uncles, Pastors , brothers and cousins are all involved. Yes, I said it!!! We all have a family member with a "young girl" problem.

Look around you. The evidence is too much to deny:

• Your Mother had you when she was merely a teenager (Please. This is not a license to chastise your Father).
• It turns out that the rumours about that girl from your high school who disappeared for a year, were not actually rumours. She was impregnated by the Baptist Church Pastor.
• Your 23 year old big brother was not really playing hide and seek with your 13 year old friend.
• Your Math teacher was teaching more than Math.
• Mr Trevor really did have sex with his daughter because "him nah fatten no fowl fi mongoose".

We can all relate to at least one of these scenarios.

When I talk to my male friends about this situation, their response is usually that these young girls are "brazen and force ripe". This is true in some cases, but I suppose hell would actually freeze over if they were to refuse these advances.

I applaud the police and the media for what seems to be a serious undertaking. It's long overdue but, "better late than never".

Question of the day

Ever wonder why when making dumplings, the last one is always too big or too small?

Public apology

Dear Aunt Pearl,

I could just pick up the phone and call but we nowadays pickney do things in a different way. When I was a kid, I visited your home in Canada and did some things I should not have done. Please accept my apologies for the following:

• biting the foreign fruits and putting them back in the fridge.
• pouring water on the remote control because the girls wanted to watch soap operas, the boys wanted to watch sports and I wanted to watch cartoons.
• pasting the spaghetti under the children's table

Oh Dear, I need to send Uncle George an apology for that last one. The spaghetti got all over his pants.

Acute and chronic Barrelitis

Bar -rel -it -is

-noun

1. a term I stole from my friend Camara in 1995.


2. has nothing to do with guns.


3. an illness crippling more than 75% of Jamaica's population (figure completely fabricated).
   

Word origin: Perhaps Camara's Mother

Synonyms: americanization, cultural assimilation

Much in the same way our Peter Pan peanut butter and Tide laundry detergent were transported from "foreign" to Jamaica in a barrel, so too were cultural aspects of the American society. As the satellite dish numbers increased, so did our love for rap and pop music, kid and play haircuts and baggy jeans, barbie and cabbage patch dolls. As our parents provided us with more and more America, they scoffed at the strangers we'd become. Whose fault was this?

At the beginning of the school year, we would appear freshly adorned with our new school bag and shoes, pens and pencils that arrived last week, just in time for school. There were always conversations about which brand our parents said was better or about the audacity that some kids had to return to school with the same bag and shoes from last year. Some of us carried a little more than new stuff. There was the added prestige that accompanied our newly acquired accent with the ts sounding like ds. This accent was from a full two months' stay in Miami or New York or simply from watching too much tv. After all, we had enough material to fabricate a story about foreign even if we hadn't been there.

It is very difficult to find the sole entity responsible for this cultural robbery. After all, Jamaica is only one of many countries affected by this phenomenon. Perhaps our culture was not strong enough to withstand the pressure, some critics may say, but I blame the barrel.

More memories

Remember:

tucking your uniform into your panties to play chinese skip?

nutri-bun and milk?

when the spelling bee started at ability and ended at zygophyllaceous?

watching greetings from the UK wondering if you would see your grandmother or cousin, Delroy?

when your grandmother referred to soda as irrated water?

when you got colic from eating jackfruit, star apple, otaheite apple, june plum, mango and guinep all in one hour?

half o' exercise book? (Thanks to Tanesha for this one).

that picture you took in front of the croton plant?

cock-fight with the poinciana buds?

making a tail from the puss-tail plant?

sinkle bible and leaf of life were the cure for every illness?

Memoirs of an ordinary Jamaican

I remember my dogs Rambo and Ninja.

I remember my dwarf coconut tree.

I remember memorizing and reciting every Louise Bennett poem I could get my hands on.

I remember the girl who stole my Louise Bennett "Jamaica Labrish" book.

I remember that my Aunt Maggie named her dog, "dog".

I remember my neighbour who would not mind her own business (may her soul rest in peace).

I remember playing in the school yard until my uniform turned brown.

I remember that my birthday parties turned into my parents' after 11 o'clock.

I remember that the sight of dentures made me laugh uncontrollably.

I remember my grandmother lovingly instructing me to "tidy" at night and not bathe to prevent catching a cold.

I remember my brothers' ripe banana sandwiches.

I remember when papaya was called paw-paw.

I remember when certain older relatives sent me to the shop to buy rum.

I remember tasting the rum.

I remember that every cold cereal was called "corn flakes", even the fruit loops.

I remember thinking Santa Cruz was the hottest place in the world and Kendal, Manchester the coldest.

I remember riding the train to Kendal, Manchester.

I remember crying as I watched my uncles kill a goat.

I remember eating the goat.

I remember the look my Mother would give me for talking in Church.

I remember being very disappointed when the photographer at the U.S Embassy told me not to smile for my visa picture.

I remember your popularity in school depended on how many "big boy" stories you knew.