Back in July, 1990, when I switched on my TV, I saw Yasin Abu Bakr and his henchmen announce that they had taken over the country, my first and most frightening thought was that I was no longer free. Thanks be to God that the coup attempt did not succeed!
Of late, in the context of all the talk about capital punishment, I have been led to ponder over which is more bearable-a coup with a short, sharp crack of our country's neck; or the cruel and unusual punishment occasioned by the gradual gnawing away at the freedom enshrined in our Constitution.
I think of President Robert Mugabe, and remember that he did not start his political career as a blatantly obvious dictator but through gradual gnawing, no vestige of freedom remains in Zimbabwe; only heartless cruelty, deprivation and oppression, while the free world looks on saying, "Poor Zimbabwe."
Are we going to end up saying, "Poor Trinidad and Tobago," while no one comes to our assistance? Or are we going to stand up as a nation for our right to freedom and put a stop to this sugar-coated dictatorship?
I am 79 and it would not seriously affect me, which way the cookie crumbles. But when I reflect on the past, the Trinidad I love, where I was born and have lived all my life, my heart breaks over what it has become in ways too numerous to mention.
We must tell our Mugabe, now, while we still can, that enough is enough.
Stop it!
The bleating of a lone sheep that has seen the wolf…
