All circuits are busy

But it is still safe for me to write about it now, so many weeks after it happened. In our bipolar country where tragedy can follow senseless tragedy for days then, suddenly, the mental psyche sweeps upwards to a level of communal ecstasy that few countries know then plunges back down again, it is hard to keep track. At the start of the week one or two column ideas start rattling around in my head. By the time Sunday evening comes around and I sit down to write, upwards of three or four new incidents have occurred, each clamouring for and worthy of attention. In many ways Trinidad — not far behind lumbers self effacing Tobago — is becoming the metropole it has always longed to be.

And the fact that my column has a Monday morning deadline means that anything that happens after 9 am will — so sorry — have to wait until next week, or hopefully, receive the attentions of another journalist.

But I am in luck, for not only have no suspects been held after all this time, but the authorities — every day promising to release details of the bombing soon (just now eh, hold on!) — aren’t even certain what type of device was used. Yellow tape blocks off the site senselessly, for there is no mangled wreck of dustbin, no possible hope that evidence remains. The real watch vendors have reclaimed both their spot and their job of blocking the corner with their hideous timepieces.

In a matter of days a dirigible appeared floating above the skies of Port-of-Spain — the spy in the sky. Where did it come from and so quickly? In a country where babies can starve for weeks before anything is done about it, we manage to put a zeppelin in the sky in days. Who is responsible for its operation? Who is paying for it? How is this supposed to work? Is it operated remotely or is it manned by some specially trained staff?

By now though, I know it is too much to expect that any substantially comprehensive information about this airship and the part it is expected to play in solving both the mystery of the dustbin bomber and combating crime at large will be offered to the public. After all, in the fear filled days that followed the incident, when bomb threats stagnated traffic in the capital and put citizens who were already frightened even more on edge, the Prime Minister didn’t feel it was necessary to address the nation.

In fact, for many days after, one wasn’t sure if he was actually in the country. All that was heard from him was the cryptic message forwarded by the media asking citizens to be on the look out for suspicious looking characters. Neither Manning nor the protective services offered a description of exactly what constituted a suspicious looking character. Just the fact that somebody actually threw something in a dustbin in Trinidad as opposed to flinging it in the drain was cause for suspicion in itself.

Going on what happens at roadblocks, every Rasta in Port-of-Spain must have been hustled into the back of police cars and jeeps. As a matter of fact, Port-of-Spain must have been a ghost town that week since half the people you see strolling about in town are suspicious looking.

And suppose while walking the streets of the capital a goodly citizen sees a suspicious looking character indulging in an illegal act. How would he alert the authorities? Certainly not by cellphone. The GSM network crashed for days after the bombing and after the passing of Hurricane Emily. But then again, the GSM network goes down every weekend, every Friday night and at least once during the week. Imagine dustbin smoking and he’s frantically calling only to hear the message, "We are sorry. All circuits are busy now.

Could you please try your call again later?" He could always send a text. Of course, by the time it’s actually sent the suspect could very well be on an airplane making his way to A-merry-car.

Comments? Please write suszanna@hotmail.com