Ancestors waiting for recognition

EINTOU PEARL SPRINGER

So, once again, Laventille, here we come. Clearly, the area, the people, require the help of the government in the development of the area. I feel hopeful at the talk of the cultural development and the statements that suggest that the people will not be moved from where their generational navel strings are buried. Like the kaisonian Bomber, I dare to dream.

In this pandemic, let us seize the time to make pan the centre for the economic and human development of Laventille. I think of cities like New Orleans, rich and famous because of their culture. Let us come to Laventille with a plan that sees the pan, as a centre of the development of the city that birthed it. I dare to envisage a great beautifully designed pan theatre at the tip-top of the hill, the sun’s rays glinting off the metal; and, at night, the reflection of moonlight. I see street names changed to represent the names of the panmen and other Laventillians.

I do not know how wide the intended development is geared to be. I am however, making the case for a holistic development focused on the transformation, not only of the entire East Dry River area, but of the people, in a process with a clear ideology of reimagining a positive sense of self amongst them. I see the panyards being used as places for manhood training for our young African men. What a unique and historic legacy that would be for our country.

And what of the spirit of these people? I remember in 1970 when we invoked the spirit of Uriah Butler, the energy of Kwame Ture, Makandal Daaga…where on every block and step of the plannings, the low-income housing, home to so many African people, we talked and spread the word of a positive sense of their history. In the eighties, despite the scorn of many, we formed the emancipation movement and became the first country in the world to declare such a holiday.

More than a year ago, November 2019, Port of Spain was declared by Unesco as a Creative City of Music. Well, papa, it had real gran z’affaire for the launch, and after that, nothing.

I hope to see signs recognising the homes of the calypsonians, the Orisha yards that cocooned the pan. Some of those yards have been there for more than 100 years. There is the Rada yard, on Belmont Valley Road, whose founder was flogged under the anti-obeah legislation of 1868. The area has given us Clinton Bernard, the Carteys, Claudia Jones, Jason Griffith, Andrew Carr…to name only a very few. Scandal of scandals, there is still the non-recognition of Kwame Ture by the city. I see parks and steelband concerts. I go to Stratford on Avon, and there are always plays by the Bard being performed...Why can’t we have Kambule, Rawle Gibbon’s kaiso dramas? Errol Hill’s and Zeno Constance’s plays on at regular intervals, with casts sourced from within the community…

I see signs with the area’s early name of Freetown being proudly resurrected. Freetown. The first area in Trinidad to be peopled by former enslaved Africans after the end of the trade in our African ancestors in 1807. Two streets of that first settlement of freed Africans, Maycock and Zampty, have been so identified. The house on Maycock is in a state of dilapidation. Is there a chance it can be restored as a heritage site?

I dream of seeing the economic wellbeing of a people secured by the recognition of the struggles, the resistance, the creativity of their ancestors. For such a development would have an impact, not only the people of Laventille but all Africans throughout the country and beyond.

Needless to say, this notion of redevelopment must also be mirrored by the necessary changes in our education system.

I am hopeful. Sometimes dreams come true. Our ancestors are there waiting for recognition, visibility, libations of appeasement.

I am hopeful. I understand that the project will come under the purview of the Housing Ministry. The present Housing Minister was previously a most successful culture minister. We know that she has the cultural sensitivity.

The culture bearers are watching. The ancestors are waiting. And Pat Bishop, standing on top of the hill, wags that finger and cautions, “Don’t let them steal your view.”

Laventille – here we come. Again...