Thank God it’s not Fantastic Friday

VALENTINE’S DAY is coming and, unsurprisingly, there’s tabanca all over.

But this year there is added heartache: Carnival tabanca.

In another year, today would be Fantastic Friday. There would be the spectacle of the Soca Monarch final. Children and parents would put the final touches to costumes for Kiddies’ Carnival. Some adults would rest ahead of Panorama.

Instead, none of that will take place in the usual manner.

It’s a blessing in disguise.

Don’t get us wrong. We acknowledge Carnival’s profound social, historic and economic importance.

But there are two sides to every coin.We cannot be blind to the many faults of the festival. To pretend it is perfect is to betray the very spirit of goodwill and sincerity that it embodies.

This Friday, instead of celebrating, we have been plunged into mourning. The vigils in protest of the endless parade of women in this country who have been victims of violence continue nightly. Women have been urged to stay home.

Carnival is a part of this story.While we often say “Carnival is woman,” we have seen time and time again just how shallow that decree can be. This year marks five years since the death of Asami Nagakiya, a Japanese pan player. Ms Nagakiya was found dead at the Queen’s Park Savannah, dressed in her costume. The victim-blaming that ensued shone a light on attitudes to women in our society.

Those attitudes have routinely been captured in Carnival’s music. Farmer Nappy’s Hookin Meh, while very popular, was criticised for its implied notion that the final say in a heterosexual relationship cannot lie with the woman, especially one who cooks, but the man.

The covid19 pandemic has underlined inequalities in our society, but Carnival has been doing a good job of this for decades.

Its free-for-all vibe betrays its exorbitant cost, which renders it inaccessible to many. People have been beaten, indeed killed, by private security guards for crossing ropes meant to keep “freeloaders” out of posh VIP sections.

While some have died to be part of the festivities, others have had the festivities foisted on them. Woodbrook residents will attest to the pollution and damage caused each year by masqueraders and big trucks.

Soca and pan might be enjoying golden ages, but there is a perception that mas has been reduced to nothing (literally) and calypso has lost touch with its audience. The deaths in recent years of figures like Singing Sandra and Shadow have left a vacuum.

This year is therefore a rare chance to take stock of the relationship between the festival and our society. How can Carnival, and by extension all of us, become better? How can it become truly all-inclusive?