More guts than calabash

But, whenever I drive on the Lady Young Road and take the roundabout near the Hilton to get to St Ann’s, I say a silent “thanks” to the man. And whenever I drive on the Bailey bridge over the Caroni River near La Paille Village, I do the same. And how can I ever be ungrateful to him for my $1,000 monthly pension cheque?

I imagine that the Shouter Baptists, in their quiet reflections, also remember him for their public holiday and for the land to build their church and school.

Then I think of the schools and police stations that were built in that brief stint when oil was $US9 a barrel.

Calypsonians take delight in making mincemeat out of him; while radio talk-show hosts and their callers give him back, belly and side. Now included in the long hate-list are some of his loyal supporters.

He is badly wounded, with one foot in the political grave. Still, he lives for the relentless social struggle, itching to return to public life with his embattled troops — to face resentment.

Mr Panday — better you than me. You have more guts than a calabash!

JEROME AUDAIN

Curepe