“…a savage place…”

In the rubble of notes I found, I heard echoes of some of what Reverend Pratt had to say concerning the police, crime, bad apples and corruption.

Take note of some of what she had to say [as reported steno- graphically]:

NASSAU, The Bahamas - Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of National Security the Hon. Cynthia Pratt Friday lauded police officers for their "outstanding contribution" to Bahamian society saying that she would not want to live in a country that did not have a "disciplined institution" like the Royal Bahamas Police Force.

Addressing administrators, officers and staff of the Royal Bahamas Police Training College, Deputy Prime Minister Pratt said they must stay the course and continue to function at a high level despite any undue criticisms they may receive.

"Sometimes we don’t appreciate the work that police officers do, that’s how it appears, until it hits home to us (and) when it hits home to us, then the police are everything to us, but until then, there are all kinds of criticisms leveled at the police," said Deputy Prime Minister Pratt.

"But I want you to know that I would not want to live in a Bahamas without the police; I would not want to live in a country without a disciplined institution like the Royal Bahamas Police Force. Your presence has brought sanity to a lot of the things that we are doing," Deputy Prime Minister Pratt added.

Deputy Prime Minister Pratt said there are many positives emanating out of the Royal Bahamas Police Force that do not make the headlines in the media…"

Here the rubble rummage ends.

My memory tells me that she then went on to say some things about bad apples, crime, the police and the way forward.

Wow!

What a wonderful best little paradise of a country where they would wipe the tears from every eye these isles of June could be if the people with the sweet words could ever have their way with the truth!

Indeed, what a wonderful quiet revolution kind of place these Bahamas would be in the thirty sixth year of its glorious independence if everything the spin doctors would have us believe this place to be we could swallow and thereafter digest.

But truly, this is a savage place.

It is also an ersatz paradise to the millions of tourists who dance away their time on a veneer of fantasy.

And as they cavort, disport and comfort themselves in their luxury cocoons, the Negroes maim, kill or otherwise savage each other.

What a delightful mess!

Indeed, as one season of debauch gives way to another, some of God’s children cry.

It is also true that some of these people cry when there is no rain, complaining then about how dry and parched things look – especially their crab-grass lawns that were brought in from Florida – slimy bugs and all.

In winter, they complain that it is too cold.

Yet some others – perhaps a hardy remnant – remind all and sundry that we are called to give thanks in and for all things.

I would like to believe that when the roll is called that I would be in this latter number.

Nonetheless, yesterday it was hot.

Indeed, summer is here [and seemingly] with a peculiar and particular vengeance for poor Black people.

Just yesterday, it was hot as hell where I worked.

And so I decided to go home, there I found that home was hotter than the hell I escaped when I left work.

So, with my blood about to boil, I took to the streets – on patrol of some of the hovels where the poor people reside.

With my blood near the boiling point, I drove west towards Nassau Street. There I saw Negroes who must have been even more delirious than I was. One man grinned as he pointed heaven-ward to what he said was a bright light in the sky.

A small crowd of people – one man among them stood out. This man in a wheel chair, crumpled up as if he carried on his puny shoulders the weight of generations of crushed and humiliated people, shouted to all who would hear that the light in the sky was the sun; and that was why it was so hot.

Another person – this time a battered woman – screamed bloody damnation on the professor with the camera that she claimed was burning her eyes.

One long line of flying spittle soon brought the professor with the camera to his senses. And as the professor regaled me with the story about how the woman claimed that the camera had burned her battered woman’s eyes, I thought to myself that the professor must be a fool to have done that to that poor battered woman with the dreadlocks.

And who could howl [and did howl] like a dog when the heat got to her as she trudged along on Nassau /Street under a scorching sun that seemed to hunt out the skin of poor black people all over the world.

But then, that is what you get in the summer if you are poor, black, homeless and demented – you get to feel the full lash and sting of the heat.

So it was just yesterday as I drove towards the west in my futile quest to get away from the sun and the heat.

It must have been at least 93 degrees in the shade.

It was just too, too hot.

But hot or not, when it is hot enough and blood begins to boil and rumble in ones brains, some wonderful thoughts get moving.

As the heat settled in on me, I started to think about things I thought I knew. And as I thought about some of these things, I came to the realization that, you can’t do wrong and get by.

I happen to be one of those people.

Evidently, lots of people who are finally caught by the police [inclusive of police who have been caught by the police who are designated the cool task of locking up police who have run afoul of their duty] know that you can’t do wrong and get by.

So no matter what any number of those so-called successful gangsters might say to the contrary, I have it on the most excellent authority, you can’t do wrong and get by…

Here I tell you that you would be absolutely in the right if here you note some relief on my part as I unburden myself of some of the righteous indignation that always surfaces whenever a wolf in sheep’s clothing is caught – as it were – with his pants down.

Here of late, some of the wolves have pleaded guilty.

Even now, I await the moment as it creeps its inevitable way to the doorsteps of Reverend – Doctor – Bishop Yu Noh Hu.

This brother is as guilty as the sin he committed against that young person just a little while ago.

And then, this Reverend will know that truth inherent in the words, you can’t do wrong and get by…

As for bad apples, sheep, wolves and appropriate clothing, even the little children know what can happen to your sheep when one wolf goes undetected as he sports some new sheep garb.

On this note, the Church said Amen.