Remembering Uncle Sat

Satnarine Sharma - Jada Loutoo
Satnarine Sharma - Jada Loutoo

PRAKASH DEONARINE

MY UNCLE, the former chief justice, would be remembered for his landmark decisions which were not only followed in our jurisdiction but the entire Commonwealth.

He also proved to be an excellent administrator.

The new procedure rules of the Supreme Court, the introduction of audio digital court reporting and piloting of the Family Court project were all established under his tenure.

There have been glowing accolades about his achievements after his passing. This is one of the ironies of death – it gives life to one’s accomplishments.

Today I want to remember more about my uncle the man, and not the chief justice. This compassion, determination, humility, strength, wisdom and especially his sense of humour, which were all referred to, were all nurtured over the years.

Those who were close to him would remember his daily routine and his relationship with the nuts man and coconut vendor.

My uncle grew up in a simple home with a big family in the 1950s and 60s. His father was a tireless shopkeeper. Their humble home was in Curepe – on Jackson Street to be exact.

In the 50s and 60s, Curepe was no more than a village. Back then, there were many of Naipaul’s Miguel Streets in Trinidad and Jackson Street was his Miguel Street.

Like Miguel Street, Jackson Street had the same colourful characters. To some, this street was their final destiny. While there were a lot of failed ambitions, some of the lucky few, like my uncle, managed to escape through education to get a better life.

It is those early years that shaped the life of my uncle and gave him the success he deserved.

He loved going to the South. He often visited his eldest sister (my mother), ever since he was young man. After their parents died, my mother became the matriarch of the family.

It was a yearly tradition that the families would go south to celebrate Christmas, but before making this journey he would get up early Christmas morning and go to Jackson Street.

It is on Jackson Street, once a year, that he would meet one of his old friends who had a small “liquid” establishment adjoining his home. In true Miguel Street style, their interaction would unfold.

He would reach in his pocket, take out a $100, give it to his friend and say, “How you doing there man?” His friend would reply, “How you doing there Sat?”

A familiar silence, then the conversation continues, “You want a beer?” The reply from my uncle was always, “What time is it?” The response, “10.45” and Sat would reply, “Open it at 11 and put it in the deep-freeze in the meantime.”

It is here they would exchange pleasantries and would rekindle thoughts of old times. Their conversation never extended beyond the consumption of the beer.

When he reached his final destination in south, I would ask him, “How much money you give [name called] this year” and he would say, “A hundred dollars.”

“But you giving him a hundred dollars for the last four years, you not considering inflation?”

My uncle would reply, “You forget I on a judge salary and not in practice anymore. You must have a conscience man.”

Many of my family always thought, to put it mildly, my uncle was tight with his wallet. I say he was frugal.

Sometimes I think I should say, with the utmost respect, when you become a judge, they have a seminal talk shop of the importance of being frugal.

We all knew it was never about the $100 or the beer, but about the man my uncle was. He understood that he needed to stay connected to his roots. He needed to inhale the oxygen of Jackson Street to prepare him for his future battles.

His close friend Ramesh Lawrence Maharaj SC told us, “He was very determined to fight even to the end. He used to always tell me that he would never allow problems to get the better of him.”

That was his life’s mantra. My uncle gave it all, even to the end.

If I had one wish, I would have liked my uncle to wake up and read all the glowing tributes on his passing. I’m sure he would have gone back to sleep peacefully.

Prakash Deonarine is a senior attorney

Comments

"Remembering Uncle Sat"

More in this section