Essential Afro-Latino/ Caribbean Current Events
- Thread starter Poitier
- Start date
its funny how they shyt on Haitians but Haitians abroad shyt all over Dominicans abroad in every category
Indeed, not to mention Haitians hardly bring them up online or offline. Its a fact that Dominicans abroad do not have a good reputation. Instead of whining and crying about Haitians invading their country(who actually contribute to their country with manual labor that they don't want to do), why don't they complain to the Puerto Ricans in Puerto Rico who want them gone.
Dominican Immigrants Fight for Land Rights in Puerto Rico
Don't even get me started on Spain or the Tri-state area.
Haiti bracing for trouble as election panel delivers report
By ASSOCIATED PRESS
PUBLISHED: 15:56 EST, 29 May 2016 | UPDATED: 15:56 EST, 29 May 2016
PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti (AP) — Haitians are bracing for trouble as an electoral verification commission prepares to deliver the results of its month long review of last year's contested presidential and legislative elections.
The five-member panel, led by a businessman who is a former ambassador to the U.S., was scheduled to deliver its recommendations Sunday to Haiti's revamped Provisional Electoral Council. A Sunday night broadcast was scheduled on national television and radio but authorities would not say if the findings would be announced at that time.
The commission planned to formally hand over its report to the interim president at a Monday ceremony on the grounds of Haiti's National Palace.
FILE - In this May 14, 2016 file photo, a supporter of the PHTK presidential candidate Jovenel Moise holds up a handmade sign with a message that reads in Creole; "Deputies and senators the responsibility is yours" during a protest march demanding the resignation of interim President Jocelerme Privert in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Haitians are bracing for trouble as an electoral verification commission is due to deliver on Sunday, May 29, 2016, the results of its month-long review of last year's presidential and legislative elections that have been repeatedly derided as a sham. (AP Photo/Dieu Nalio Chery, File)
Commission president Pierre Francois Benoit has said a random sample of 25 percent of the roughly 13,000 tally sheets from polling stations would be audited. In recent days, a team of police officers could be seen at a tabulation center examining thumbprints on ballot sheets.
It's far from clear whether the verification panel's findings will provide clarity to last year's elections or if its recommendations will be accepted by Haiti's political class.
Robert Fatton, a Haitian-born politics professor at the University of Virginia and the author of "The Roots of Haitian Despotism," said doubts and suspicions about the commission are an indication that Haiti's electoral impasse might actually deepen.
"I think we are in for a bumpy ride," Fatton said in an email to The Associated Press.
In recent days, several foreign embassies have warned their citizens in Haiti that the release of the panel's report and a scheduled Tuesday announcement of a new election date could lead to civil unrest in coming days.
"U.S. citizens are reminded that unrest and protests throughout Haiti could occur," the U.S. Embassy said in a security message Wednesday.
For residents of Haiti's capital, life goes on. Tire-burning roadblocks and other signs of political turbulence are familiar in Haiti.
The possibility of paralyzing protests is a big concern to Adler Augustin, a 29-year-old who has a small business inflating car tires at the side of a busy road in Port-au-Prince.
"All my work is in the streets so I'm worried I won't be able to do any business," he said.
Interim President Jocelerme Privert, who became Haiti's caretaker leader in February after a presidential runoff was scrapped for a third time, has been trying to show he can guarantee stability as the election impasse has widened divisions in the polarized country. He has said Haiti cannot restart balloting without first restoring confidence in the electoral machinery.
International monitors who observed Haiti's Oct. 25 presidential first round said results putting government-backed candidate Jovenel Moise in the leading position for a two-candidate runoff appeared to be a genuine reflection of the voters' will.
But the tally was rejected by virtually all the other candidates, most notably the No. 2 finisher, Jude Celestin. He called results showing Moise with nearly 33 percent of the votes a "massive fraud" and many civil society groups expressed concern about the legitimacy of the vote.
Moise's Tet Kale party opposed installing a verification panel, asserting it was illegal.
___
David McFadden on Twitter: www.twitter.com/dmcfadd
By ASSOCIATED PRESS
PUBLISHED: 15:56 EST, 29 May 2016 | UPDATED: 15:56 EST, 29 May 2016
PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti (AP) — Haitians are bracing for trouble as an electoral verification commission prepares to deliver the results of its month long review of last year's contested presidential and legislative elections.
The five-member panel, led by a businessman who is a former ambassador to the U.S., was scheduled to deliver its recommendations Sunday to Haiti's revamped Provisional Electoral Council. A Sunday night broadcast was scheduled on national television and radio but authorities would not say if the findings would be announced at that time.
The commission planned to formally hand over its report to the interim president at a Monday ceremony on the grounds of Haiti's National Palace.
FILE - In this May 14, 2016 file photo, a supporter of the PHTK presidential candidate Jovenel Moise holds up a handmade sign with a message that reads in Creole; "Deputies and senators the responsibility is yours" during a protest march demanding the resignation of interim President Jocelerme Privert in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Haitians are bracing for trouble as an electoral verification commission is due to deliver on Sunday, May 29, 2016, the results of its month-long review of last year's presidential and legislative elections that have been repeatedly derided as a sham. (AP Photo/Dieu Nalio Chery, File)
Commission president Pierre Francois Benoit has said a random sample of 25 percent of the roughly 13,000 tally sheets from polling stations would be audited. In recent days, a team of police officers could be seen at a tabulation center examining thumbprints on ballot sheets.
It's far from clear whether the verification panel's findings will provide clarity to last year's elections or if its recommendations will be accepted by Haiti's political class.
Robert Fatton, a Haitian-born politics professor at the University of Virginia and the author of "The Roots of Haitian Despotism," said doubts and suspicions about the commission are an indication that Haiti's electoral impasse might actually deepen.
"I think we are in for a bumpy ride," Fatton said in an email to The Associated Press.
In recent days, several foreign embassies have warned their citizens in Haiti that the release of the panel's report and a scheduled Tuesday announcement of a new election date could lead to civil unrest in coming days.
"U.S. citizens are reminded that unrest and protests throughout Haiti could occur," the U.S. Embassy said in a security message Wednesday.
For residents of Haiti's capital, life goes on. Tire-burning roadblocks and other signs of political turbulence are familiar in Haiti.
The possibility of paralyzing protests is a big concern to Adler Augustin, a 29-year-old who has a small business inflating car tires at the side of a busy road in Port-au-Prince.
"All my work is in the streets so I'm worried I won't be able to do any business," he said.
Interim President Jocelerme Privert, who became Haiti's caretaker leader in February after a presidential runoff was scrapped for a third time, has been trying to show he can guarantee stability as the election impasse has widened divisions in the polarized country. He has said Haiti cannot restart balloting without first restoring confidence in the electoral machinery.
International monitors who observed Haiti's Oct. 25 presidential first round said results putting government-backed candidate Jovenel Moise in the leading position for a two-candidate runoff appeared to be a genuine reflection of the voters' will.
But the tally was rejected by virtually all the other candidates, most notably the No. 2 finisher, Jude Celestin. He called results showing Moise with nearly 33 percent of the votes a "massive fraud" and many civil society groups expressed concern about the legitimacy of the vote.
Moise's Tet Kale party opposed installing a verification panel, asserting it was illegal.
___
David McFadden on Twitter: www.twitter.com/dmcfadd
Dim View Of Tourism In 'Here Comes The Sun'
Published: Monday | May 30, 2016 | 12:00 AM | Janet Silvera
WESTERN BUREAU:
Jamaica-born, New York-based Nicole Dennis-Benn's first book, Here Comes The Sun, revolves around a mother, Delores, and her daughters Thandi and Margot, born 15 years apart. They live together and the sometimes brutal trials and tribulations they face come out in the pages.
Using the backdrop of a tourism industry which is elsewhere tagged Jamaica's engine of growth, Dennis-Benn - who has been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize - makes no apologies in writing about the discrepancies between that sector and the community in which the three live.
The book has a bright and sunny cover, "almost cater-made for beach blankets and sunglasses", says Michael Taeckens of Liveright Publishing Corporation in New York. However, he warns, "don't mistake this debut for a light and frothy read - while it depicts the sumptuous beauty of Jamaica, it also reveals a grittier side, chronicling the lives of those in the shadow of the booming Jamaican tourism industry."
Dennis-Benn explains the contrast, noting "I wanted visibility for women in our culture, specifically working-class women. Most feel invisible, pushed to the margins of society and silenced. While rape, incest, and violence against women remain prevalent in Jamaica, the focus tends to be on other issues that exclude them."
Inspired By A Feminist
She wanted to delve into their lives because women's bodies are usually territory for invasion and decisions made without their consent, whether in a First- or Third-World country. "While writing this novel, I was inspired by renowned Kenyan artist Wangechi Mutu, who depicts the exploitation and eroticisation of the black female body through a feminist lens," she stated.
Explaining her use of the tourism industry, Dennis-Benn said "my family and I took regular trips to the north coast, because my mother had got a job as a customs officer and worked some weekends in Montego Bay. I was mesmerised by how different the island looked in tourist areas, a stark contrast to Kingston - the paved roads, the flower beds, the billboards with smiling faces and 'One Love' boldly written in black, green and gold,"
This was in the early 1990s, "when we would drive by signs on beaches warning us not to trespass unless we were staying at the affiliated hotel. Each time there would be a new hotel, bigger and more lavish, where land or homes used to be".
Watered-Down Culture
After migrating to the USA then returning to Jamaica and staying in a hotel, Dennis-Benn noticed the only representation of Jamaican culture was through the lens of local artists allowed on the property. "Even the food was watered down. One hotel clerk mentioned that most tourists would rather have their vacation in our beautiful country without seeing the people. I knew then that I had to tell the story of the people who didn't get seen," she said.
At one point in Here Comes the Sun,Delores says "no one loves a black girl, not even herself." This haunting line resonates throughout the entire narrative. "Many Jamaicans would mindlessly rattle off our motto, 'Out of Many, One People' because, as children, it was drilled into our heads to silence dialogues about racial, ethnic and class disparities. It's sort of like hypnosis to numb the pain of our colonised history," argues Dennis-Benn.
"Classism and complexionism are still very sensitive topics in Jamaica."
Margot, the older sister, has a secret love with a woman and Thandi, the younger sister, has a secret love with a poor Jamaican boy. Both characters feel shame for their love, yet these relationships are, in many ways, the brightest parts of their lives. Although Dennis-Benn says the book is not about her life, she is able to relate to this type of shame, as she still struggles with being a lesbian. She is married to a woman,
"Regardless of who we are and where we're from, we're socialised to respect fear more than our own hearts. It materialises into shame when we feel we've veered away from what is expected of us," she explains.
Dennis-Benn comes home to Jamaica for the Calabash Literary Festival in Treasure Beach next weekend. Here Comes The Sun will be in bookstores on July 19 and her book launch was scheduled for yesterday in Kingston.
Dim view of tourism in 'Here Comes The Sun'
Published: Monday | May 30, 2016 | 12:00 AM | Janet Silvera
WESTERN BUREAU:
Jamaica-born, New York-based Nicole Dennis-Benn's first book, Here Comes The Sun, revolves around a mother, Delores, and her daughters Thandi and Margot, born 15 years apart. They live together and the sometimes brutal trials and tribulations they face come out in the pages.
Using the backdrop of a tourism industry which is elsewhere tagged Jamaica's engine of growth, Dennis-Benn - who has been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize - makes no apologies in writing about the discrepancies between that sector and the community in which the three live.
The book has a bright and sunny cover, "almost cater-made for beach blankets and sunglasses", says Michael Taeckens of Liveright Publishing Corporation in New York. However, he warns, "don't mistake this debut for a light and frothy read - while it depicts the sumptuous beauty of Jamaica, it also reveals a grittier side, chronicling the lives of those in the shadow of the booming Jamaican tourism industry."
Dennis-Benn explains the contrast, noting "I wanted visibility for women in our culture, specifically working-class women. Most feel invisible, pushed to the margins of society and silenced. While rape, incest, and violence against women remain prevalent in Jamaica, the focus tends to be on other issues that exclude them."
Inspired By A Feminist
She wanted to delve into their lives because women's bodies are usually territory for invasion and decisions made without their consent, whether in a First- or Third-World country. "While writing this novel, I was inspired by renowned Kenyan artist Wangechi Mutu, who depicts the exploitation and eroticisation of the black female body through a feminist lens," she stated.
Explaining her use of the tourism industry, Dennis-Benn said "my family and I took regular trips to the north coast, because my mother had got a job as a customs officer and worked some weekends in Montego Bay. I was mesmerised by how different the island looked in tourist areas, a stark contrast to Kingston - the paved roads, the flower beds, the billboards with smiling faces and 'One Love' boldly written in black, green and gold,"
This was in the early 1990s, "when we would drive by signs on beaches warning us not to trespass unless we were staying at the affiliated hotel. Each time there would be a new hotel, bigger and more lavish, where land or homes used to be".
Watered-Down Culture
After migrating to the USA then returning to Jamaica and staying in a hotel, Dennis-Benn noticed the only representation of Jamaican culture was through the lens of local artists allowed on the property. "Even the food was watered down. One hotel clerk mentioned that most tourists would rather have their vacation in our beautiful country without seeing the people. I knew then that I had to tell the story of the people who didn't get seen," she said.
At one point in Here Comes the Sun,Delores says "no one loves a black girl, not even herself." This haunting line resonates throughout the entire narrative. "Many Jamaicans would mindlessly rattle off our motto, 'Out of Many, One People' because, as children, it was drilled into our heads to silence dialogues about racial, ethnic and class disparities. It's sort of like hypnosis to numb the pain of our colonised history," argues Dennis-Benn.
"Classism and complexionism are still very sensitive topics in Jamaica."
Margot, the older sister, has a secret love with a woman and Thandi, the younger sister, has a secret love with a poor Jamaican boy. Both characters feel shame for their love, yet these relationships are, in many ways, the brightest parts of their lives. Although Dennis-Benn says the book is not about her life, she is able to relate to this type of shame, as she still struggles with being a lesbian. She is married to a woman,
"Regardless of who we are and where we're from, we're socialised to respect fear more than our own hearts. It materialises into shame when we feel we've veered away from what is expected of us," she explains.
Dennis-Benn comes home to Jamaica for the Calabash Literary Festival in Treasure Beach next weekend. Here Comes The Sun will be in bookstores on July 19 and her book launch was scheduled for yesterday in Kingston.
Dim view of tourism in 'Here Comes The Sun'
University of West Indies calls on Barbados government to enact legislation to afford studies
May 31, 2016 CMC Regional
Image Source: bajanreporter.com
BRIDGETOWN, Barbados, May 31, CMC – The University of the West Indies (UWI) has called on the Barbados government to enact the necessary legislation to allow its scientists to undertake studies on the medicinal purposes of marijuana.
The Cave Hill campus of the UWI has announced plans for a symposium on marijuana in September and would welcome the required legislation to advance its research on the plant.
“The Cave Hill campus has been investigating the medicinal value of Barbadian plants,” Principal of the campus, Professor Eudine Barriteau, said, adding “however, I must and need to inform the public before our colleagues at Cave Hill can conduct research on marijuana the government of Barbados would need to create an enabling environment by producing the legislative framework to do so”.
Last week, a Barbados government legislator criticised the UWI for its failure to lead the regional efforts on the research of marijuana for medicinal purposes.
“We have this talent at the UWI and we should have been at the forefront of marijuana uses for diseases, for medical purposes. We should have been at the forefront,” Government Senator Jeptor Ince told the Senate during the debate on the Caribbean Accreditation Authority for Education in Medicine and Other Health Professions (Incorporation) Bill, 2016.
Ince, the parliamentary secretary in the Ministry of Finance, told legislators that he was disappointed at the position of the UWI and warned that the Caribbean was at risk of being left behind if the regional educational institution continued to focus on some of the traditional subjects it offered.
He insisted that the UWI had to look at research in medicine as a way to boost its revenues, saying it was also clear that the marijuana industry was exploding, particularly in the United States.
“I am confident the research needs to be done; not only that, but in other areas. So, don’t let us sit back… let us implement with haste these things that are important, Ince said, adding that “education is an investment… We have produced some of the best academics anywhere in the world and I am still bothered that we have a UWI… that is not doing enough research”, he said.
But Barriteau said that the government of \jasmaica ensured that marijuana research was undertaken at the Mona campus by passing the necessary legislation in April 2015.
“So my colleagues and my fellow principal at the Mona campus can legitimately and legally conduct that research,” she added.
Earlier this year, St Vincent and the Grenadines Prime Minister Dr Ralph Gonsalves called for a collective Caribbean approach regarding the trade and other benefits of marijuana cultivation in the region.
“We have to have the studies. That is why I advocated the Caribbean marijuana commission. In the changing global context of marijuana use, Caribbean economists and other relevant professionals, including those in the pharmaceutical industry, ought to be ahead of the curve in conducting relevant research, not rehearsing traversed territory,” Gonsalves said in an address to the launch of 40th anniversary celebrations at the Cave Hill campus of the University of the West Indies.
In 2014, regional leaders, at their summit in Antigua, announced the establishment of the commission as they discussed the means of decriminalising marijuana for medicinal purposes.
University of West Indies calls on Barbados government to enact legislation to afford studies
May 31, 2016 CMC Regional
Image Source: bajanreporter.com
BRIDGETOWN, Barbados, May 31, CMC – The University of the West Indies (UWI) has called on the Barbados government to enact the necessary legislation to allow its scientists to undertake studies on the medicinal purposes of marijuana.
The Cave Hill campus of the UWI has announced plans for a symposium on marijuana in September and would welcome the required legislation to advance its research on the plant.
“The Cave Hill campus has been investigating the medicinal value of Barbadian plants,” Principal of the campus, Professor Eudine Barriteau, said, adding “however, I must and need to inform the public before our colleagues at Cave Hill can conduct research on marijuana the government of Barbados would need to create an enabling environment by producing the legislative framework to do so”.
Last week, a Barbados government legislator criticised the UWI for its failure to lead the regional efforts on the research of marijuana for medicinal purposes.
“We have this talent at the UWI and we should have been at the forefront of marijuana uses for diseases, for medical purposes. We should have been at the forefront,” Government Senator Jeptor Ince told the Senate during the debate on the Caribbean Accreditation Authority for Education in Medicine and Other Health Professions (Incorporation) Bill, 2016.
Ince, the parliamentary secretary in the Ministry of Finance, told legislators that he was disappointed at the position of the UWI and warned that the Caribbean was at risk of being left behind if the regional educational institution continued to focus on some of the traditional subjects it offered.
He insisted that the UWI had to look at research in medicine as a way to boost its revenues, saying it was also clear that the marijuana industry was exploding, particularly in the United States.
“I am confident the research needs to be done; not only that, but in other areas. So, don’t let us sit back… let us implement with haste these things that are important, Ince said, adding that “education is an investment… We have produced some of the best academics anywhere in the world and I am still bothered that we have a UWI… that is not doing enough research”, he said.
But Barriteau said that the government of \jasmaica ensured that marijuana research was undertaken at the Mona campus by passing the necessary legislation in April 2015.
“So my colleagues and my fellow principal at the Mona campus can legitimately and legally conduct that research,” she added.
Earlier this year, St Vincent and the Grenadines Prime Minister Dr Ralph Gonsalves called for a collective Caribbean approach regarding the trade and other benefits of marijuana cultivation in the region.
“We have to have the studies. That is why I advocated the Caribbean marijuana commission. In the changing global context of marijuana use, Caribbean economists and other relevant professionals, including those in the pharmaceutical industry, ought to be ahead of the curve in conducting relevant research, not rehearsing traversed territory,” Gonsalves said in an address to the launch of 40th anniversary celebrations at the Cave Hill campus of the University of the West Indies.
In 2014, regional leaders, at their summit in Antigua, announced the establishment of the commission as they discussed the means of decriminalising marijuana for medicinal purposes.
University of West Indies calls on Barbados government to enact legislation to afford studies
1 JUNE 2016
The Conversation (Johannesburg)
Ghana: How Trinidad and Tobago and Ghana Could Partner for Innovation
ANALYSIS
By Keston K. Perry, Soas, University of London
Hardly anyone paid attention when Trinidad and Tobago Prime Minister Dr Keith Rowley visited Ghana early in May 2016. The lack of interest was probably because of economic realities. Major markets like the US and China are looking less towards West African and Caribbean nations as energy producers. There's been a dramatic collapse in commodity prices.
But - with a clear approach that considers the political costs of change and some clever, targeted policies focused particularly on technological innovation in the energy and other sectors - Ghana and Trinidad and Tobago could become important allies. They have much to learn from each other.
Stars on the wane
Both countries had positive rates of growth from the 2000s - more than 8% for Trinidand and Tobago (up to 2008) and 6.6% in Ghana (to the present). These were driven by high commodity prices and favourable global conditions.
Trinidad and Tobago was known in energy circles as a major exporter of liquefied natural gas to the US. It supplied between 75% and 80% of all the US's liquefied natural gas needs until 2008. Then fracking became more viable and new investments in domestic energy production took off in the US. In 2015 the now sacked governor of Trinidad and Tobago's Central Bank declared that the country was in a recession.
Meanwhile, popular media touted Ghana as an integral part of an "Africa Rising" narrative. But this narrative has also lost steam.
These situations are of course connected to local policy and politics as well as international politics. The US is now producing greater energy supplies for domestic consumption and export. China's slowdown from two decades of high growth is also being felt.
So how can Ghana and Trinidad and Tobago adapt - individually and in partnership? What can Ghana, the younger of the two countries when it comes to its energy sector, learn from Trinidad and Tobago's successes and failures?
Possibilities for partnerships
There are great possibilities for innovation in the two countries' economies. Hydrocarbons are important to both economies: they constitute more than 80% of exports and 60% of foreign exchange earnings in Trinidad and Tobago, and 26% of Ghana's exports.
Trinidad and Tobago has more than a century of experience in energy production and refining. It even helped pioneer certain techniques in gas exploitation and has invested heavily in improving local skills. The country could benefit greatly if it starts exporting skills to help build Ghana's relatively new energy sector.
There's a potential hitch: Trinidad and Tobago has lost opportunities in the past for connecting the oil and gas sectors with other economic sectors. Its technology policy approach has remained laissez-faire since the 1980s, so it's lagged behind and is no longer a major innovator. From this perspective, the model that it has developed over the years may not be entirely appropriate for Ghana, given the structural changes in global energy markets. If Ghana wishes to gain the most from this sector, and generate more value in other sectors, a slightly different approach is required.
Globally, the hydrocarbon sector is technologically mature, with established processes and techniques. This leaves little opportunity for technological innovation by smaller producers like Trinidad and Tobago, and Ghana. Both countries currently import technology through multinationals. Ghana's emerging sector particularly is dominated by multinational firms. Its political structure has contributed to inequality in the share of income.
All of these factors show that focused, sector-specific policies are crucial. These must focus on marshalling new investments and promoting linkages with under-the-radar projects. I have discovered in my own research that state investment was instrumental in advancing low-profile projects in telecommunications; iron and steel; and information and communication technologies developed at the University of the West Indies in partnership with state enterprises in Trinidad and Tobago.
A negative case in point is the Tamana InTech Park, which was conceived in the early 2000s as a Caribbean-styled Silicon Valley. After several years of government expenditure, there have been few notable private investments. Nor has the project generated innovative products or capabilities. It remains alive, but its work is hampered by weak policy direction, political struggles and the legacy of "free-market" policies adopted since the late 1980s.
Likewise, new innovation hubs have sprung up in Ghana but have little policy support. A recent study about the country's innovation capacity has, however, shown some activity - in low-tech firms. The problem is that without serious government support or strategic focus, there's little promise of long-term growth.
Policy turnaround is crucial
There is some chance for a policy turnaround - in energy and in other sectors. An effective partnership between the two countries in technology promoting activities, such as the International Fine Cocoa Innovation Centre at the University of the West Indies in Trinidad, can be fostered. Ghana is still considered a major cocoa exporting country - the second largest globally. If not closely monitored, the cocoa sector may suffer the same technological fate as the oil and gas sector.
While the energy sector remains relevant for the foreseeable future in terms of revenue for both Ghana and Trinidad and Tobago, innovation opportunities lie elsewhere. This effort must be directly driven by a coalition of local state officials, university stakeholders, new sector players and civil society. It can be harnessed by local firms through a renewed approach that's focused on low-hanging fruit to effect dynamic transformation in both Ghana and the island nation.
Disclosure statement
Keston K. Perry receives funding from the Government of Trinidad and Tobago's national postgraduate scholarship programme.
Read the original article on The Conversation Africa.
Ghana: How Trinidad And Tobago And Ghana Could Partner For Innovation
The Conversation (Johannesburg)
Ghana: How Trinidad and Tobago and Ghana Could Partner for Innovation
ANALYSIS
By Keston K. Perry, Soas, University of London
Hardly anyone paid attention when Trinidad and Tobago Prime Minister Dr Keith Rowley visited Ghana early in May 2016. The lack of interest was probably because of economic realities. Major markets like the US and China are looking less towards West African and Caribbean nations as energy producers. There's been a dramatic collapse in commodity prices.
But - with a clear approach that considers the political costs of change and some clever, targeted policies focused particularly on technological innovation in the energy and other sectors - Ghana and Trinidad and Tobago could become important allies. They have much to learn from each other.
Stars on the wane
Both countries had positive rates of growth from the 2000s - more than 8% for Trinidand and Tobago (up to 2008) and 6.6% in Ghana (to the present). These were driven by high commodity prices and favourable global conditions.
Trinidad and Tobago was known in energy circles as a major exporter of liquefied natural gas to the US. It supplied between 75% and 80% of all the US's liquefied natural gas needs until 2008. Then fracking became more viable and new investments in domestic energy production took off in the US. In 2015 the now sacked governor of Trinidad and Tobago's Central Bank declared that the country was in a recession.
Meanwhile, popular media touted Ghana as an integral part of an "Africa Rising" narrative. But this narrative has also lost steam.
These situations are of course connected to local policy and politics as well as international politics. The US is now producing greater energy supplies for domestic consumption and export. China's slowdown from two decades of high growth is also being felt.
So how can Ghana and Trinidad and Tobago adapt - individually and in partnership? What can Ghana, the younger of the two countries when it comes to its energy sector, learn from Trinidad and Tobago's successes and failures?
Possibilities for partnerships
There are great possibilities for innovation in the two countries' economies. Hydrocarbons are important to both economies: they constitute more than 80% of exports and 60% of foreign exchange earnings in Trinidad and Tobago, and 26% of Ghana's exports.
Trinidad and Tobago has more than a century of experience in energy production and refining. It even helped pioneer certain techniques in gas exploitation and has invested heavily in improving local skills. The country could benefit greatly if it starts exporting skills to help build Ghana's relatively new energy sector.
There's a potential hitch: Trinidad and Tobago has lost opportunities in the past for connecting the oil and gas sectors with other economic sectors. Its technology policy approach has remained laissez-faire since the 1980s, so it's lagged behind and is no longer a major innovator. From this perspective, the model that it has developed over the years may not be entirely appropriate for Ghana, given the structural changes in global energy markets. If Ghana wishes to gain the most from this sector, and generate more value in other sectors, a slightly different approach is required.
Globally, the hydrocarbon sector is technologically mature, with established processes and techniques. This leaves little opportunity for technological innovation by smaller producers like Trinidad and Tobago, and Ghana. Both countries currently import technology through multinationals. Ghana's emerging sector particularly is dominated by multinational firms. Its political structure has contributed to inequality in the share of income.
All of these factors show that focused, sector-specific policies are crucial. These must focus on marshalling new investments and promoting linkages with under-the-radar projects. I have discovered in my own research that state investment was instrumental in advancing low-profile projects in telecommunications; iron and steel; and information and communication technologies developed at the University of the West Indies in partnership with state enterprises in Trinidad and Tobago.
A negative case in point is the Tamana InTech Park, which was conceived in the early 2000s as a Caribbean-styled Silicon Valley. After several years of government expenditure, there have been few notable private investments. Nor has the project generated innovative products or capabilities. It remains alive, but its work is hampered by weak policy direction, political struggles and the legacy of "free-market" policies adopted since the late 1980s.
Likewise, new innovation hubs have sprung up in Ghana but have little policy support. A recent study about the country's innovation capacity has, however, shown some activity - in low-tech firms. The problem is that without serious government support or strategic focus, there's little promise of long-term growth.
Policy turnaround is crucial
There is some chance for a policy turnaround - in energy and in other sectors. An effective partnership between the two countries in technology promoting activities, such as the International Fine Cocoa Innovation Centre at the University of the West Indies in Trinidad, can be fostered. Ghana is still considered a major cocoa exporting country - the second largest globally. If not closely monitored, the cocoa sector may suffer the same technological fate as the oil and gas sector.
While the energy sector remains relevant for the foreseeable future in terms of revenue for both Ghana and Trinidad and Tobago, innovation opportunities lie elsewhere. This effort must be directly driven by a coalition of local state officials, university stakeholders, new sector players and civil society. It can be harnessed by local firms through a renewed approach that's focused on low-hanging fruit to effect dynamic transformation in both Ghana and the island nation.
Disclosure statement
Keston K. Perry receives funding from the Government of Trinidad and Tobago's national postgraduate scholarship programme.
Read the original article on The Conversation Africa.
Ghana: How Trinidad And Tobago And Ghana Could Partner For Innovation
5 CAMPAIGNS FOR BLACK LIVES IN LATIN AMERICA
BY RAQUEL REICHARD • JUNE 3, 2016 • 12:50PM
anistia.org.br
Black Lives Matter has become the rallying cry for the latest chapter in a long struggle for Black liberation in the United States. Whether on protest posters or Twitter hashtags, BLM has become synonymous with major issues impacting the Black community, including, though certainly not limited to, police violence, mass incarceration, the school-to-prison pipeline, affordable housing, food insecurity and more.
Beyond the U.S.-Mexico border and across the Caribbean Sea, Black Latin Americans are also coming up against similar instances of violence and discrimination, prompting campaigns and movements of their own. Ahead, a non-comprehensive list of some of the orgs and campaigns making changes for Black lives in Latin America.
MORE: 5 Reasons Latinos Should Support Black Lives Matter
1. DRECCA: This is a Colombian nonprofit organization that promotes the human rights ofafrocolombianxs, negrxs, raizales and palenquerxs in the South American country. The group, established in 2008, empowers and educates the Black community of its culture, history and struggle while implementing practices and proposals to bring changes in the public sphere. Some of DREECA's previous campaigns have centered on labor, African-descended youth and Black women domestic workers.
2. “Ah. Branco! Dá Um Tempo!:” Last year, Black students at Universidade de Brasília in Brazil started a campaign called "Ah. Branco! Dá um tempo!” ("Come on, white guy, give me a break!”) to spotlight the microaggressions Brazilians of African descent experience on their campus. Inspired by a similar campaign in the U.S. titled "I, Too, Am Harvard," "Ah. Branco! Dá um tempo!” encouraged students to take photos of themselves holding a board or poster with some of the racist things they hear on campus written on them. The comments ranged from "your hair is not that bad" and "I didn't know people like you understood architecture" to "you're lucky for being black. You didn’t even need to study to enter college" and "if you want to be a lawyer, first you'd better cut your hair."
3. The Network of Afro-Venezuelan Organizations: In the year 2000, the Network of Afro-Venezuelan Organizations, which is made up of 23 Black Venezuelan groups, was created. Together, these organizations fight for a series of issues facing their community, including the incorporation of Afro-Venezuelan history in education, environmental justice, sustainability, health care and prevention, among others.
4. Cero Discriminación: This year, the Panamanian government launched its Cero Discriminación campaign, which aims to educate its population about racial discrimination and promote justice, diversity and equality.
PLUS: Meet the Latina Behind the Black Lives Matter Anthem, Taína Asili
5. Mexico Negro: Mexico Negro is a pro-Black Mexican activist group. Last year, the organization successfully campaigned for the inclusion of Afro-Mexicans in the Dec. 8 national census. Blacks account for 1.2 percent of the country’s population, approximately 1.38 million people. As a result of the campaign, Afro-Mexicans can accurately identity themselves in the national census report.
5 Campaigns for Black Lives in Latin America
BY RAQUEL REICHARD • JUNE 3, 2016 • 12:50PM
anistia.org.br
Black Lives Matter has become the rallying cry for the latest chapter in a long struggle for Black liberation in the United States. Whether on protest posters or Twitter hashtags, BLM has become synonymous with major issues impacting the Black community, including, though certainly not limited to, police violence, mass incarceration, the school-to-prison pipeline, affordable housing, food insecurity and more.
Beyond the U.S.-Mexico border and across the Caribbean Sea, Black Latin Americans are also coming up against similar instances of violence and discrimination, prompting campaigns and movements of their own. Ahead, a non-comprehensive list of some of the orgs and campaigns making changes for Black lives in Latin America.
MORE: 5 Reasons Latinos Should Support Black Lives Matter
1. DRECCA: This is a Colombian nonprofit organization that promotes the human rights ofafrocolombianxs, negrxs, raizales and palenquerxs in the South American country. The group, established in 2008, empowers and educates the Black community of its culture, history and struggle while implementing practices and proposals to bring changes in the public sphere. Some of DREECA's previous campaigns have centered on labor, African-descended youth and Black women domestic workers.
2. “Ah. Branco! Dá Um Tempo!:” Last year, Black students at Universidade de Brasília in Brazil started a campaign called "Ah. Branco! Dá um tempo!” ("Come on, white guy, give me a break!”) to spotlight the microaggressions Brazilians of African descent experience on their campus. Inspired by a similar campaign in the U.S. titled "I, Too, Am Harvard," "Ah. Branco! Dá um tempo!” encouraged students to take photos of themselves holding a board or poster with some of the racist things they hear on campus written on them. The comments ranged from "your hair is not that bad" and "I didn't know people like you understood architecture" to "you're lucky for being black. You didn’t even need to study to enter college" and "if you want to be a lawyer, first you'd better cut your hair."
3. The Network of Afro-Venezuelan Organizations: In the year 2000, the Network of Afro-Venezuelan Organizations, which is made up of 23 Black Venezuelan groups, was created. Together, these organizations fight for a series of issues facing their community, including the incorporation of Afro-Venezuelan history in education, environmental justice, sustainability, health care and prevention, among others.
4. Cero Discriminación: This year, the Panamanian government launched its Cero Discriminación campaign, which aims to educate its population about racial discrimination and promote justice, diversity and equality.
PLUS: Meet the Latina Behind the Black Lives Matter Anthem, Taína Asili
5. Mexico Negro: Mexico Negro is a pro-Black Mexican activist group. Last year, the organization successfully campaigned for the inclusion of Afro-Mexicans in the Dec. 8 national census. Blacks account for 1.2 percent of the country’s population, approximately 1.38 million people. As a result of the campaign, Afro-Mexicans can accurately identity themselves in the national census report.
5 Campaigns for Black Lives in Latin America
Why I Will Never Celebrate Indian Arrival Day
Indentured labor in the Caribbean marked the beginning of disease, dependencies, prejudices, and ills that continue to plague Indo-Caribbean communities
Abi Dis: Today's Indenture Portrait. Photo courtesy Rajiv Mohabir
By RAJIV MOHABIR
JUNE 2, 2016 | CARIBBEAN, GUYANA, INDENTURED LABOR, INDIAN ARRIVAL DAY, RAJIV MOHABIR
Each year on May 5 Guyana celebrates “Indian Arrival Day,” commemorating the arrival of Indian indentured laborers to the Caribbean. On May 5, 1838, the S.S. Hesperus and the S.S. Whitby arrived along the shores of Berbice and Demerara in Guyana. Together they carried 396 Indians, referred to as “coolies,” from Chota Nagpur, then Bihar, 300 miles from Kolkata. Since slavery had recently ended and African-descended people had been emancipated in the British colonies in 1833, the British were in need of cheap labor. They looked to India, the jewel in the Empire’s crown—a jewel that became a sugar crystal.
The first Indian arrivals to the Caribbean were part of the Gladstone experiment: a continuation of forced migration from the Indian subcontinent to see if Indians would be an adequate and strong enough replacement for Africans and African-descended slaves. The British had already been practicing indenture in the Indian Ocean in their colonies in Réunion and Mauritius. Each coolie was bound by a renewable contract to serve on the British sugar plantations for a period of five years. Lured away from their homes by the promise of riches, their passage across the sea at the hands of the British was brutal, followed by the degrading dehumanization that occurred on the plantations. Even though they were “paid” a wage, it was seldom enough to buy any kind of freedom from the plantation economy, except for rum that dulled the pain of its hellish conditions.
National governments across the Caribbean also celebrate the beginning of Britain’s reinvention of slavery—an observance that spills over into Indo-Caribbean diasporic spaces. Trinidadians mark “Indian Arrival Day” on May 30 to commemorate the landing of the Fath Al Razack in 1845 that brought the first 227 coolies to the Gulf of Paria. The meaning of Fath Al Razak (Fatel Razack) is “Victory to Allah the Sustainer.” I pray this prayer too. Presumably the idea behind acknowledging this day is to pay tribute to Indians in the Caribbean—to say, yes, the Caribbean is an ethnically diverse place and our Indian heritages are colorful and important. Our presence in the Caribbean is indelibly marked in the food, language, music, and literary world of the Antilles.
My family came to the Western hemisphere as laborers in need of sustenance. But while my family’s migration story might sound like it began with agency, this narrative devolves into one of dispossession and terror, with the lingering effects of colonization haunting us today. This familial haunting, this legacy leads me to ask myself and my community, why should we celebrate the beginnings of our oppression in the Caribbean while we still feel the effects of violent colonization?
The first ancestor of mine to arrive in the Western hemisphere was indentured in 1885 and labored for more than ten years. He crossed the pagal samundar, the maddening kala pani, “black water,” into the Caribbean Sea and landed in Guyana. My ancestors remained and built their lives in Georgetown, Lusignan, New Amsterdam, and Crabwood Creek. In lieu of return fare to an India that would not take them back, they accepted land grants from the British government—land stolen from indigenous people—and hacked settlements in the periphery of the Amazon rainforest.
I recorded my Aji (paternal grandmother) telling me the story of how her own father’s father was tricked into crossing the kalapani, the black sea, to Guyana and how this pain birthed us. I quote her in Newtown Literary:
“Beta, India mein dis side ke people, de English, de white man from dis side say, ‘Leh abi go Guyana.’ or ‘Abi go Trinidad, or anywhere da side. You know, a-you get job an’ a-you go de good. An one-two year aftah a-you go come back.’”
“So de fool dem people an’ bring ‘em come. How de catch ‘em? De been tell dem that abi go nuddah country an’ a-you go get plenty job, a-you go get ‘nuff money from cut cane, a-you go live happy. An’ India mein dem been a-punish. Wuk tiday you get food tiday, an’ you know tomorrow dem starve. So dem been a-haunted ti come away. An’ when dem bring ‘em dem na get house, dem na get nutin’, dem a-cut cane. Dem a-punish bad. But wha you go do? When me family been come dis country dem been very poor. All India-man been poor. None na been rich.”
We have touched the flame of Empire and have been scarred. Looking at us, what can anyone tell of the ills of having our bodies exploited for Empire’s gain? How does the body hold psychic devastation? Global economics at the time created an illusion of choice: some people were forced into migration because of starvation; some were kidnapped and shipped to the colonies; some Indians agreed to take the journey without actually understanding what it meant; some went willingly looking to make money.
Indian arrival into the Caribbean marked the beginnings of my family’s origin story, but it was also the beginning of serious disease, dependencies, prejudices, and ills that plague us still today. I present a list of ills—a postcolonial fallout—that I see as a legacy of indenture, erased by the celebration of Indian Arrival Day. Together, these ills informed my decision this year to not celebrate this holiday.
Domestic violence
Written about at length by Gaiutra Bahadur in her ground-breaking book Coolie Woman: the Odyssey of Indenture, the fact that women are often hacked to death in Guyana today is not surprising. According to Bahadur, this violence is also a colonial legacy. When the British began importing people into the Caribbean, the proportion of women to men was imbalanced. With fewer women there was greater competition among men for their affections. This included plantation owners and magistrates who preyed on the vulnerability of Indian women in their colonies. Indian men retaliated against women’s “infidelity” with machetes—that tool of indenture.
But this violence is enduring. In 2009, Jahajee Sisters worked with Sakhi for South Asian Women (two Queens-based organizations) to create a safe space for survivors of domestic violence. They conducted poetry workshops and published Bolo Behen! Speak Sister!, a collection of poems by Indo-Caribbean women protesting the violence of a male-dominated society, now in a second diaspora.
A quick Google search will turn up innumerable accounts and reports of present day domestic violence in Guyanese homes. A recent article in the Guyana Chronicle tells of Ravindra “Birdie” Badhu’s murder of Indrawattie “Sharda” Somwar of 77 Village, Corentyne Berbice on March 8, 2016—International Women’s Day. Using a machete he hacked her to death.
Diabetes
To me, chronically ill with diabetes—me get sugah—the greatest irony is that my ancestors were contracted to cultivate sugar on another people’s indigenous land for the British and their Empire, and what we are left with is diabetes—a disease that disproportionately affects South Asians and other people of color, making it so we cannot eat sugar, or that sugar imbalance will eventually kill us. Diabetes has claimed limbs on both sides of my family. It is so commonplace that when I told my friend that I was diagnosed at 32 he wasn’t shocked by the fact, but rather replied, “Already?”
According to a recent study compiled by the NYU School of Medicine, people of South Asian descent are seven times more likely to develop type 2 diabetes than any other group. I see this as fallout from a colonized diet, of having aata (a more complete grained flour) replaced with refined white flour. My ancestors were slaves to the sugar industry and dehumanized; in me they call out, reminding me of the ills that they suffered.
Indentured labor in the Caribbean marked the beginning of disease, dependencies, prejudices, and ills that continue to plague Indo-Caribbean communities
Abi Dis: Today's Indenture Portrait. Photo courtesy Rajiv Mohabir
By RAJIV MOHABIR
JUNE 2, 2016 | CARIBBEAN, GUYANA, INDENTURED LABOR, INDIAN ARRIVAL DAY, RAJIV MOHABIR
Each year on May 5 Guyana celebrates “Indian Arrival Day,” commemorating the arrival of Indian indentured laborers to the Caribbean. On May 5, 1838, the S.S. Hesperus and the S.S. Whitby arrived along the shores of Berbice and Demerara in Guyana. Together they carried 396 Indians, referred to as “coolies,” from Chota Nagpur, then Bihar, 300 miles from Kolkata. Since slavery had recently ended and African-descended people had been emancipated in the British colonies in 1833, the British were in need of cheap labor. They looked to India, the jewel in the Empire’s crown—a jewel that became a sugar crystal.
The first Indian arrivals to the Caribbean were part of the Gladstone experiment: a continuation of forced migration from the Indian subcontinent to see if Indians would be an adequate and strong enough replacement for Africans and African-descended slaves. The British had already been practicing indenture in the Indian Ocean in their colonies in Réunion and Mauritius. Each coolie was bound by a renewable contract to serve on the British sugar plantations for a period of five years. Lured away from their homes by the promise of riches, their passage across the sea at the hands of the British was brutal, followed by the degrading dehumanization that occurred on the plantations. Even though they were “paid” a wage, it was seldom enough to buy any kind of freedom from the plantation economy, except for rum that dulled the pain of its hellish conditions.
National governments across the Caribbean also celebrate the beginning of Britain’s reinvention of slavery—an observance that spills over into Indo-Caribbean diasporic spaces. Trinidadians mark “Indian Arrival Day” on May 30 to commemorate the landing of the Fath Al Razack in 1845 that brought the first 227 coolies to the Gulf of Paria. The meaning of Fath Al Razak (Fatel Razack) is “Victory to Allah the Sustainer.” I pray this prayer too. Presumably the idea behind acknowledging this day is to pay tribute to Indians in the Caribbean—to say, yes, the Caribbean is an ethnically diverse place and our Indian heritages are colorful and important. Our presence in the Caribbean is indelibly marked in the food, language, music, and literary world of the Antilles.
My family came to the Western hemisphere as laborers in need of sustenance. But while my family’s migration story might sound like it began with agency, this narrative devolves into one of dispossession and terror, with the lingering effects of colonization haunting us today. This familial haunting, this legacy leads me to ask myself and my community, why should we celebrate the beginnings of our oppression in the Caribbean while we still feel the effects of violent colonization?
The first ancestor of mine to arrive in the Western hemisphere was indentured in 1885 and labored for more than ten years. He crossed the pagal samundar, the maddening kala pani, “black water,” into the Caribbean Sea and landed in Guyana. My ancestors remained and built their lives in Georgetown, Lusignan, New Amsterdam, and Crabwood Creek. In lieu of return fare to an India that would not take them back, they accepted land grants from the British government—land stolen from indigenous people—and hacked settlements in the periphery of the Amazon rainforest.
I recorded my Aji (paternal grandmother) telling me the story of how her own father’s father was tricked into crossing the kalapani, the black sea, to Guyana and how this pain birthed us. I quote her in Newtown Literary:
“Beta, India mein dis side ke people, de English, de white man from dis side say, ‘Leh abi go Guyana.’ or ‘Abi go Trinidad, or anywhere da side. You know, a-you get job an’ a-you go de good. An one-two year aftah a-you go come back.’”
“So de fool dem people an’ bring ‘em come. How de catch ‘em? De been tell dem that abi go nuddah country an’ a-you go get plenty job, a-you go get ‘nuff money from cut cane, a-you go live happy. An’ India mein dem been a-punish. Wuk tiday you get food tiday, an’ you know tomorrow dem starve. So dem been a-haunted ti come away. An’ when dem bring ‘em dem na get house, dem na get nutin’, dem a-cut cane. Dem a-punish bad. But wha you go do? When me family been come dis country dem been very poor. All India-man been poor. None na been rich.”
We have touched the flame of Empire and have been scarred. Looking at us, what can anyone tell of the ills of having our bodies exploited for Empire’s gain? How does the body hold psychic devastation? Global economics at the time created an illusion of choice: some people were forced into migration because of starvation; some were kidnapped and shipped to the colonies; some Indians agreed to take the journey without actually understanding what it meant; some went willingly looking to make money.
Indian arrival into the Caribbean marked the beginnings of my family’s origin story, but it was also the beginning of serious disease, dependencies, prejudices, and ills that plague us still today. I present a list of ills—a postcolonial fallout—that I see as a legacy of indenture, erased by the celebration of Indian Arrival Day. Together, these ills informed my decision this year to not celebrate this holiday.
Domestic violence
Written about at length by Gaiutra Bahadur in her ground-breaking book Coolie Woman: the Odyssey of Indenture, the fact that women are often hacked to death in Guyana today is not surprising. According to Bahadur, this violence is also a colonial legacy. When the British began importing people into the Caribbean, the proportion of women to men was imbalanced. With fewer women there was greater competition among men for their affections. This included plantation owners and magistrates who preyed on the vulnerability of Indian women in their colonies. Indian men retaliated against women’s “infidelity” with machetes—that tool of indenture.
But this violence is enduring. In 2009, Jahajee Sisters worked with Sakhi for South Asian Women (two Queens-based organizations) to create a safe space for survivors of domestic violence. They conducted poetry workshops and published Bolo Behen! Speak Sister!, a collection of poems by Indo-Caribbean women protesting the violence of a male-dominated society, now in a second diaspora.
A quick Google search will turn up innumerable accounts and reports of present day domestic violence in Guyanese homes. A recent article in the Guyana Chronicle tells of Ravindra “Birdie” Badhu’s murder of Indrawattie “Sharda” Somwar of 77 Village, Corentyne Berbice on March 8, 2016—International Women’s Day. Using a machete he hacked her to death.
Diabetes
To me, chronically ill with diabetes—me get sugah—the greatest irony is that my ancestors were contracted to cultivate sugar on another people’s indigenous land for the British and their Empire, and what we are left with is diabetes—a disease that disproportionately affects South Asians and other people of color, making it so we cannot eat sugar, or that sugar imbalance will eventually kill us. Diabetes has claimed limbs on both sides of my family. It is so commonplace that when I told my friend that I was diagnosed at 32 he wasn’t shocked by the fact, but rather replied, “Already?”
According to a recent study compiled by the NYU School of Medicine, people of South Asian descent are seven times more likely to develop type 2 diabetes than any other group. I see this as fallout from a colonized diet, of having aata (a more complete grained flour) replaced with refined white flour. My ancestors were slaves to the sugar industry and dehumanized; in me they call out, reminding me of the ills that they suffered.
Racism
Anti-black racism in East Indian spaces is rampant. I understand this as a colonial haunting. When the British brought Indians to work the plantations, it was as scab labor. Slavery was recently abolished and the British would rather pay Indians fractions of what they would pay Afro-Guyanese, shaping the relationship between the freed people and the newly imported labor. Members of my own family like to say things like “we were never slaves” when the truth is we absolutely were; we have more cultural commonalities and values with Afro-Guyanese than we do with anyone from the Indian subcontinent. India is not “home”—it is only a mythological homeland.
In her essay “The Indo-Caribbean Experience: Now and Then” Elizabeth Jaikaran writes about this parallel racism between ethnic Indian and African descended people that plagues Guyanese spaces. This racism, she writes, was a way for the British to keep two major ethnic groups divided, so that they would not unite against their common oppressor:
“Do not speak to the Indians,” said the British to the Africans. “They are vile and carry diseases.”
“Do not speak to the Africans,” said the British to the Indians. “They are vile and carry diseases.”
Alcoholism
It’s not a family event without rum. Friends and family will chuckle in agreement. They laugh knowing we dance on a demon’s mouth. Rum claims lives through addiction and has its roots in the plantation economy: it allowed workers some psychic relief from the trauma of labor, all the while re-investing the money earned by the laborer in the same system that kept them poor. Toil, drink. Punish bad bad, suck rum steady.
Dreams of escaping this hellish loop of a colonial past and a neocolonial present endure today in the music coming from Indo-Caribbean performers. In his hit “Rum is Meh Lovah” singer songwriter Ravi B sings about deadly dispossession:
Rum kill me muddah, rum kill me faddah
rum kill me whole family;
rum kill me bruddah, rum kill me sistah
now it want to come an’ kill me
but ah don’ really care wha people say
It would be joyous if it weren’t so personally harrowing. I have an uncle who died from complications from alcohol, and other family members of all generations who suffer/have suffered from alcoholism in silence.
Homophobia
Documented in ship records made public by Gaitura Bahadur from the 1898 voyage of the S.S. Mersey, a ship surgeon caught two men, Mohangoo and Nabi Baksh, having sex. As punishment Mohungu had to holystone the deck from 6 am to 6 pm and then have his penis scalded as a preventative cure for this variety of homosexual intercourse.
The Criminal Law (Offenses) Act of Guyana and Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code inherit their oppressive homophobic language—almost word for word—from Britain, illustrating how this homophobia, touted as one of the worst in the world, originated in white, colonizing minds and religion.
A recent article by Suzanne Persard shows the connections between Jamaican homophobia and colonization. We cannot understand the way that homophobia arises in Caribbean spaces without first considering the suffering of the colonized at the masters’ hands.
Last night I dreamt of my mother. She too lives by the sea, in Florida—far from Chennai, Bihar, Georgetown, or Lusignan. Since her divorce she has become a painter and is drawn to the poetry of the waves. Without her work, she feels as though she would fall into a dark space—a holding space. This anxiety, of constantly needing to work, is part of the mythology that makes my family human. She is drawn to the sea: that original place of trauma—hoping, longing, for the return of wholeness. A return “home” wherever that may be.
We are haunted by the specter of this unfulfilled promise. Would my ancestors have left if they knew what would become of their progeny?
Like my mother, I am drawn to the sea. It can hold complexity and paradox in its blue throat. As a poet, I like to believe it is because I have a deep, abiding connection with history and motion. That my own rooted place in this world is to journey. I like to believe that I inherited not only the damage of being enslaved but also the seafarer’s heart, sturdy and craving motion. I want this motion to be what unmoors me from the damage, to use it as one would fertilizer, something breaking down and inspiring new life.
May 5th 1838
briks ke dole par hamar potiya jhulai
abse ham toke bulawe jahaaj-bhai
Ash applied evenly fertilizes the field.
On those first ships did they know they would seed the earth?
We are wreckage, broken planks, history’s skipping
record—repeating the migrant strain again
and against kalapani ke twist-up face while
the rakshas of erasure licks its lips. What’s born of death—
here we grow wild. In Queens, see clumps of bora
long beans twist feral by fire hydrants.
We sow bits of ourselves in all corners:
flags on bamboo posts, milk poured into the sea.
My daughter will swing on the tree branch,
we will all call you Brother of the Ship.
Why the hell should I celebrate colonization? To celebrate Indian Arrival Day is to celebrate the beginning of our slavery sentences. To celebrate Indian Arrival Day is to celebrate the damage wreaked upon brown bodies by white systems of colonial violence. To celebrate Indian Arrival Day is to celebrate the cause of each ill: diabetes, racism, alcoholism, homophobia, and domestic violence. To celebrate Indian Arrival Day is to celebrate death.
In a conversation I had with Toronto-based artist and sociologist Andil Gosine who works to inscribe this history into his art, he lamented that when we celebrate Indian Arrival Day, “we are implicitly erasing the history and actual experiences of indentures.” He continued:
Indians didn’t arrive: they were merely the cargo of the system of Indentureship, and it is ridiculous that we would celebrate the beginning of bondage … most people have no idea when Indentureship ended in the Caribbean because there has not been fair acknowledgment of that system’s brutality.
He also acknowledged the potential that celebrating a state holiday like this could have in continuing a narrative of dis-unity in the Caribbean. Such divides, he claims, play into “entho-nationalism” as a way of “over-differentiating” Indian- and African-descended communities, a colonial inheritance itself that keeps communities divided.
I will never celebrate this “arrival” as a holiday, a washing clean of British torture. Frantz Fanon writes in The Wretched of the Earth:
Colonialism is not satisfied merely with holding a people in its grip and emptying the native’s brain of all form and content. By a kind of perverted logic, it turns to the past of the oppressed people, and distorts, disfigures, and destroys it.
This past month I remembered my ancestor’s struggles, my parent’s struggles, and my own struggles that result from indentureship. I celebrated the end of indenture and human trafficking on this global scale. I celebrated survival. I celebrated that I am here today writing this essay, writing my poems, that white hands did not erase me. I will not allow my ancestors’ stories—my own stories—to be disfigured by the hands of the state. We have survived colonization, slavery, and dehumanization. But surviving does not equal healing. There is yet a long open swath of sea left to cross.
The Taxidermist’s Cut, winner of the 2014 Intro in Poetry Prize from Four Way Books. In 2015 his second manuscript The Cowherd’s Son won the Kundiman Prize and is forthcoming from Tupelo Press. His translations of Lalbihari Sharma’s Holi Songs of Demerara can be found at PEN/America. Read more about him at www.rajivmohabir.com and follow him on Twitter @rajivmohabir
Tags: Caribbean, Guyana, indentured labor, Indian Arrival Day, Rajiv Mohabir
Why I Will Never Celebrate Indian Arrival Day - Asian American Writers' Workshop
Anti-black racism in East Indian spaces is rampant. I understand this as a colonial haunting. When the British brought Indians to work the plantations, it was as scab labor. Slavery was recently abolished and the British would rather pay Indians fractions of what they would pay Afro-Guyanese, shaping the relationship between the freed people and the newly imported labor. Members of my own family like to say things like “we were never slaves” when the truth is we absolutely were; we have more cultural commonalities and values with Afro-Guyanese than we do with anyone from the Indian subcontinent. India is not “home”—it is only a mythological homeland.
In her essay “The Indo-Caribbean Experience: Now and Then” Elizabeth Jaikaran writes about this parallel racism between ethnic Indian and African descended people that plagues Guyanese spaces. This racism, she writes, was a way for the British to keep two major ethnic groups divided, so that they would not unite against their common oppressor:
“Do not speak to the Indians,” said the British to the Africans. “They are vile and carry diseases.”
“Do not speak to the Africans,” said the British to the Indians. “They are vile and carry diseases.”
Alcoholism
It’s not a family event without rum. Friends and family will chuckle in agreement. They laugh knowing we dance on a demon’s mouth. Rum claims lives through addiction and has its roots in the plantation economy: it allowed workers some psychic relief from the trauma of labor, all the while re-investing the money earned by the laborer in the same system that kept them poor. Toil, drink. Punish bad bad, suck rum steady.
Dreams of escaping this hellish loop of a colonial past and a neocolonial present endure today in the music coming from Indo-Caribbean performers. In his hit “Rum is Meh Lovah” singer songwriter Ravi B sings about deadly dispossession:
Rum kill me muddah, rum kill me faddah
rum kill me whole family;
rum kill me bruddah, rum kill me sistah
now it want to come an’ kill me
but ah don’ really care wha people say
It would be joyous if it weren’t so personally harrowing. I have an uncle who died from complications from alcohol, and other family members of all generations who suffer/have suffered from alcoholism in silence.
Homophobia
Documented in ship records made public by Gaitura Bahadur from the 1898 voyage of the S.S. Mersey, a ship surgeon caught two men, Mohangoo and Nabi Baksh, having sex. As punishment Mohungu had to holystone the deck from 6 am to 6 pm and then have his penis scalded as a preventative cure for this variety of homosexual intercourse.
The Criminal Law (Offenses) Act of Guyana and Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code inherit their oppressive homophobic language—almost word for word—from Britain, illustrating how this homophobia, touted as one of the worst in the world, originated in white, colonizing minds and religion.
A recent article by Suzanne Persard shows the connections between Jamaican homophobia and colonization. We cannot understand the way that homophobia arises in Caribbean spaces without first considering the suffering of the colonized at the masters’ hands.
Last night I dreamt of my mother. She too lives by the sea, in Florida—far from Chennai, Bihar, Georgetown, or Lusignan. Since her divorce she has become a painter and is drawn to the poetry of the waves. Without her work, she feels as though she would fall into a dark space—a holding space. This anxiety, of constantly needing to work, is part of the mythology that makes my family human. She is drawn to the sea: that original place of trauma—hoping, longing, for the return of wholeness. A return “home” wherever that may be.
We are haunted by the specter of this unfulfilled promise. Would my ancestors have left if they knew what would become of their progeny?
Like my mother, I am drawn to the sea. It can hold complexity and paradox in its blue throat. As a poet, I like to believe it is because I have a deep, abiding connection with history and motion. That my own rooted place in this world is to journey. I like to believe that I inherited not only the damage of being enslaved but also the seafarer’s heart, sturdy and craving motion. I want this motion to be what unmoors me from the damage, to use it as one would fertilizer, something breaking down and inspiring new life.
May 5th 1838
briks ke dole par hamar potiya jhulai
abse ham toke bulawe jahaaj-bhai
Ash applied evenly fertilizes the field.
On those first ships did they know they would seed the earth?
We are wreckage, broken planks, history’s skipping
record—repeating the migrant strain again
and against kalapani ke twist-up face while
the rakshas of erasure licks its lips. What’s born of death—
here we grow wild. In Queens, see clumps of bora
long beans twist feral by fire hydrants.
We sow bits of ourselves in all corners:
flags on bamboo posts, milk poured into the sea.
My daughter will swing on the tree branch,
we will all call you Brother of the Ship.
Why the hell should I celebrate colonization? To celebrate Indian Arrival Day is to celebrate the beginning of our slavery sentences. To celebrate Indian Arrival Day is to celebrate the damage wreaked upon brown bodies by white systems of colonial violence. To celebrate Indian Arrival Day is to celebrate the cause of each ill: diabetes, racism, alcoholism, homophobia, and domestic violence. To celebrate Indian Arrival Day is to celebrate death.
In a conversation I had with Toronto-based artist and sociologist Andil Gosine who works to inscribe this history into his art, he lamented that when we celebrate Indian Arrival Day, “we are implicitly erasing the history and actual experiences of indentures.” He continued:
Indians didn’t arrive: they were merely the cargo of the system of Indentureship, and it is ridiculous that we would celebrate the beginning of bondage … most people have no idea when Indentureship ended in the Caribbean because there has not been fair acknowledgment of that system’s brutality.
He also acknowledged the potential that celebrating a state holiday like this could have in continuing a narrative of dis-unity in the Caribbean. Such divides, he claims, play into “entho-nationalism” as a way of “over-differentiating” Indian- and African-descended communities, a colonial inheritance itself that keeps communities divided.
I will never celebrate this “arrival” as a holiday, a washing clean of British torture. Frantz Fanon writes in The Wretched of the Earth:
Colonialism is not satisfied merely with holding a people in its grip and emptying the native’s brain of all form and content. By a kind of perverted logic, it turns to the past of the oppressed people, and distorts, disfigures, and destroys it.
This past month I remembered my ancestor’s struggles, my parent’s struggles, and my own struggles that result from indentureship. I celebrated the end of indenture and human trafficking on this global scale. I celebrated survival. I celebrated that I am here today writing this essay, writing my poems, that white hands did not erase me. I will not allow my ancestors’ stories—my own stories—to be disfigured by the hands of the state. We have survived colonization, slavery, and dehumanization. But surviving does not equal healing. There is yet a long open swath of sea left to cross.
The Taxidermist’s Cut, winner of the 2014 Intro in Poetry Prize from Four Way Books. In 2015 his second manuscript The Cowherd’s Son won the Kundiman Prize and is forthcoming from Tupelo Press. His translations of Lalbihari Sharma’s Holi Songs of Demerara can be found at PEN/America. Read more about him at www.rajivmohabir.com and follow him on Twitter @rajivmohabir
Tags: Caribbean, Guyana, indentured labor, Indian Arrival Day, Rajiv Mohabir
Why I Will Never Celebrate Indian Arrival Day - Asian American Writers' Workshop
Hindu leader in Trinidad and Tobago justifies child marriage
Sat Maharaj is the secretary general of the Maha Sabha, the country’s leading Hindu organization.
TNM Staff | Monday, June 6, 2016 - 10:26
A controversial Hindu leader in Trinidad and Tobago (T&T) has apparently justified child marriage after revealing that he too married a child bride decades ago.
Sat Maharaj is the secretary general of the Maha Sabha, the country’s leading Hindu organization.
The 85-year-old firebrand leader had recently told the Archbishop of Port of Spain and US ambassador to ‘go to hell’ over the issue and he further refused to apologise for his remark.
However, this comes even as he claimed that Hindu child marriages do not exist in T&T anymore and challenged Attorney General Faris Al-Rawi to produce statistics over the past two years to back his claim.
“There is no Hindu child marriage in T&T. There is Hindu teenage marriage. There are no local pictures to support that child marriage is taking place. They are picking up pictures of this outside of T&T on the Internet,” said Maharaj.
He added, “In any event, the society is correcting itself and over the last two years we had no such marriage. We are asking the AG for specific figures. Tell us how many Hindu child marriages take place over the last two years. None!”
Lol
Still a slave in 2016! Why are Brazil’s top two TV networks both airing series based in the slavery era?
Note from BW of Brazil: The objective that led to the creation of this blog was always to present to an English-speaking audience interesting material about black Brazilians, specifically black women and from the perspective of race. There have long been misunderstandings about the subject outside of Brazil, perpetuated by long held myths often promoted by Brazilian elites and common, everyday people that presented, and continue to present the country as a place that doesn’t have serious racial problems that need to be addressed. And as the blog is written in English, half of the readers of this blog and a large percentage of the comments posted come from the United States, that other large nation in the Americas with a long history of slavery and racial inequality. As a result, the information we bring on this blog is often understood from a more diasporic perspective as people will naturally make comparisons between the Brazilian experience and that of the country in which they reside. Over the course of this blog’s existence, a number of well-known figures (mostly from the US) have been discussed in the context of some controversy, performance or statement that said person made and how the figure or occurrence was interpreted or the repercussions it had in Brazil.
Today we present a good example of this.
Last week, the popular American rapper Snoop Dogg created a buzz in social networks when he advised his followers not to tune in to the recent remake of the 1977 American television miniseries Roots, that portrayed a fictitious journey into the family history African-American author Alex Haley set in era of the US experiment with the institution of slavery. Lambasting the remake, the “Doggfather” said he couldn’t watch it and was fed up with seeing America’s media portraying the brutality that black Americans endured during this tragic era in history. Rejecting Roots along with the film 12 Years A Slave, the rapper, born as Calvin Broadus, encourages black people to start creating their own productions (1) and show some of the success that African-Americans are having. The rapper/actor’s recent comments could just as well have been applied to the situation in Brazil and, considering the fact that Brazil’s two most popular television networks, Rede Globo and Rede Record, are both featuring series based during Brazil’s slavery era, his comments on black representation in the media, which is a major topic of this blog, couldn’t be more timely.
In Brazil today, millions of persons of African descent live under an oppressive system of psychological slavery in which all-things white are to be adored and all things black to be disregarded. We see this ideology play out regularly in the media that constantly promotes the idea of white beauty, an education system in which culture and history are presented from a Eurocentric perspective and an ongoing problem of racial identity in which millions of persons who are seen or treated as black attempt to escape this racial classification either by simply denying that they are black, submerging themselves in whiteness in social settings or encouraging their offspring tomarry and reproduce with persons who are considered white. In this manner, in their eyes, they can distance themselves from the pain and difficulty of being associated with African peoples, a group in which Brazil as a whole continues to reject as we have seen time and again from the manner in which immigrants are treated. Quite frankly, with such widespread racist insults and jokes, daily experiences with racism, invisibilityand negative stereotypes, who would want to be black?
Record TV’s ‘Escrava Mãe’, Globo TV’s ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
As a previous post showed, Brazil’s media has long had an obsession with slavery-era productions. And here it is in 2016, 128 years after the end of slavery, and Record TV and Globo TV are simultaneously broadcasting series (Escrava Mãe on Record andLiberdade Liberdade on Globo) based in the slavery era. While there are those black actors who actually celebrate slave era series going into production (as there will a huge need for black actors) and we cannot blame these actors who need the work and have bills to pay, there comes a time when we must ask these questions: How much longer must we accept these images? What are the psychological effects of such images on a population that already suffers from a lack of representation and an identity complex?
Protagonist of ‘Escrava Mãe’, Gabriela Moreyra criticizes stigmatized roles for black actors
By Bianca Soares
Gabriela Moreyra stars in ‘Escrava Mãe’
Gabriela Moreyra, 27, will play her first protagonist in Escrava Mãe, which opens on the Record TV network on Tuesday (31). In the Gustavo Reys serial directed by Ivan Zettel, she will play Juliana, mother of the slave Isaura.
For the actress, releasing the novela (soap opera) with all finalized chapters is not a burden. “It might network [to change it throughout over the plot], but I prefer to see it more simply: It’s already done, ready,” she says.
Record TV’s ‘Escrava Mãe’
In principle, Escrava Mãe would replace Os Dez Mandamentos (The Ten Commandments) in 2015, but it was postponed four times for commercial reasons, as stated artistic vice president and producer of Record Marcelo Silva.
Record TV’s ‘Escrava Mãe’
Gabriela says that ending of the scenes of violence she needed “to disconnect from everything to recover.” She, who considers herself black but does not want to “wave any flags,” says she wondered what her family would have experienced in the same situation in the past.
Scene depicting rape of Luena (Nayara Justino) in the Record TV novela
The actress echoes the demands of greater black representation in television drama. “People need to understand that black people can be doctors, [the roles] are very stigmatized. Slowly I think this is changing. It has to change.”
‘Escrava Mãe’ of Rede Record network
Escrava Mãe is the seventh novela of Gabriela, who debuted on Record in 2006 withBicho do Mato.
Scene from Globo TV’s ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
Note from BW of Brazil: The objective that led to the creation of this blog was always to present to an English-speaking audience interesting material about black Brazilians, specifically black women and from the perspective of race. There have long been misunderstandings about the subject outside of Brazil, perpetuated by long held myths often promoted by Brazilian elites and common, everyday people that presented, and continue to present the country as a place that doesn’t have serious racial problems that need to be addressed. And as the blog is written in English, half of the readers of this blog and a large percentage of the comments posted come from the United States, that other large nation in the Americas with a long history of slavery and racial inequality. As a result, the information we bring on this blog is often understood from a more diasporic perspective as people will naturally make comparisons between the Brazilian experience and that of the country in which they reside. Over the course of this blog’s existence, a number of well-known figures (mostly from the US) have been discussed in the context of some controversy, performance or statement that said person made and how the figure or occurrence was interpreted or the repercussions it had in Brazil.
Today we present a good example of this.
Last week, the popular American rapper Snoop Dogg created a buzz in social networks when he advised his followers not to tune in to the recent remake of the 1977 American television miniseries Roots, that portrayed a fictitious journey into the family history African-American author Alex Haley set in era of the US experiment with the institution of slavery. Lambasting the remake, the “Doggfather” said he couldn’t watch it and was fed up with seeing America’s media portraying the brutality that black Americans endured during this tragic era in history. Rejecting Roots along with the film 12 Years A Slave, the rapper, born as Calvin Broadus, encourages black people to start creating their own productions (1) and show some of the success that African-Americans are having. The rapper/actor’s recent comments could just as well have been applied to the situation in Brazil and, considering the fact that Brazil’s two most popular television networks, Rede Globo and Rede Record, are both featuring series based during Brazil’s slavery era, his comments on black representation in the media, which is a major topic of this blog, couldn’t be more timely.
In Brazil today, millions of persons of African descent live under an oppressive system of psychological slavery in which all-things white are to be adored and all things black to be disregarded. We see this ideology play out regularly in the media that constantly promotes the idea of white beauty, an education system in which culture and history are presented from a Eurocentric perspective and an ongoing problem of racial identity in which millions of persons who are seen or treated as black attempt to escape this racial classification either by simply denying that they are black, submerging themselves in whiteness in social settings or encouraging their offspring tomarry and reproduce with persons who are considered white. In this manner, in their eyes, they can distance themselves from the pain and difficulty of being associated with African peoples, a group in which Brazil as a whole continues to reject as we have seen time and again from the manner in which immigrants are treated. Quite frankly, with such widespread racist insults and jokes, daily experiences with racism, invisibilityand negative stereotypes, who would want to be black?
Record TV’s ‘Escrava Mãe’, Globo TV’s ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
As a previous post showed, Brazil’s media has long had an obsession with slavery-era productions. And here it is in 2016, 128 years after the end of slavery, and Record TV and Globo TV are simultaneously broadcasting series (Escrava Mãe on Record andLiberdade Liberdade on Globo) based in the slavery era. While there are those black actors who actually celebrate slave era series going into production (as there will a huge need for black actors) and we cannot blame these actors who need the work and have bills to pay, there comes a time when we must ask these questions: How much longer must we accept these images? What are the psychological effects of such images on a population that already suffers from a lack of representation and an identity complex?
Protagonist of ‘Escrava Mãe’, Gabriela Moreyra criticizes stigmatized roles for black actors
By Bianca Soares
Gabriela Moreyra stars in ‘Escrava Mãe’
Gabriela Moreyra, 27, will play her first protagonist in Escrava Mãe, which opens on the Record TV network on Tuesday (31). In the Gustavo Reys serial directed by Ivan Zettel, she will play Juliana, mother of the slave Isaura.
For the actress, releasing the novela (soap opera) with all finalized chapters is not a burden. “It might network [to change it throughout over the plot], but I prefer to see it more simply: It’s already done, ready,” she says.
Record TV’s ‘Escrava Mãe’
In principle, Escrava Mãe would replace Os Dez Mandamentos (The Ten Commandments) in 2015, but it was postponed four times for commercial reasons, as stated artistic vice president and producer of Record Marcelo Silva.
Record TV’s ‘Escrava Mãe’
Gabriela says that ending of the scenes of violence she needed “to disconnect from everything to recover.” She, who considers herself black but does not want to “wave any flags,” says she wondered what her family would have experienced in the same situation in the past.
Scene depicting rape of Luena (Nayara Justino) in the Record TV novela
The actress echoes the demands of greater black representation in television drama. “People need to understand that black people can be doctors, [the roles] are very stigmatized. Slowly I think this is changing. It has to change.”
‘Escrava Mãe’ of Rede Record network
Escrava Mãe is the seventh novela of Gabriela, who debuted on Record in 2006 withBicho do Mato.
Scene from Globo TV’s ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
Actors of Liberdade want more blacks on stage and behind the scenes
By João Miguel Júnior
Actors David Jr. and Jorge Heloisa during the recordings of ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
All six black actors cast in Liberdade Liberdade (Freedom, Freedom) have interpreted roles of slaves or servants in other TV productions. None of them portrayed to judges, farmers or teachers. None was protagonist of a Brazilian novela. On Friday (May 13), the 128th anniversary of the abolition of slavery, blacks are still an absolute minority on television, although the majority of the Brazilian population. The main Globo novelashave 29 black actors, but only three interpret characters with higher education. The professionals who suffer racism in the plot and in real life, complain that there’s a lack of representation and stereotypes are leftover in national television drama.
Scene from ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
In the 11 o’clock Globo TV novela, the history of Brazilian black is told more broadly than the standard of productions of the era. In the plot, which takes place in 1808, there is a slave who maintains frequent sexual relations with his white female master, a black woman that was raised as a sister of a white girl and a freed black serving as a colonel of the Portuguese infantry.
In ‘Liberdade Liberdade’, the character Saviano is the sexual slave of his master Dionísia (2).
For the actor Bukassa Kabengele, 43, who plays the military colonel, the plot of the 11 o’clock novela differentiates itself by escaping the clichés about slaves and displaying scenes that have never been to the fore in other productions. But even so, he thinks blacks need more space in prime time.
“If we are talking about a public that today is certainly real, consumes and is part of the audience, I think there should be a relationship of more presence, evidence and number on TV. It gives the impression that [the situation] has changed and it’s changed indeed, but the [black] population is immense, so the proportionality still leaves (much) to be desired,” he says.
Globo TVs ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
According to the last census, 43.1% of the population considers itself parda(brown/mixed) and 7.6% declares itself preta (black). Between pardos and pretos, there would be 97 million negros (blacks), which would make them the majority of the population, since the count is from 2010, when Brazil had 190.7 million inhabitants.
A slave for the third time
David Jr., 30, Saviano in Liberdade Liberdade, is plays the role of a slave for the third time in his career (3). The others were in the series A Cura (Globo, 2010) and in one theater piece. He has also given life to a security guard in Geração Brasil (2014) and an outlaw called Meio-Noite (meaning midnight) in Cordel Encantado (2011). Now, he is a double slave, he provides sexual services required to his boss, Dionísia (Maitê Proenca). Olívia Araújo, the slave Celeste, played the role of a maid in her last three novelas. Lucy Ramos, who is the slave extortionist Malena, has also been a maidservant in the second version of Sinhá Moça (2006). The exception was the psychologist victim of racism that she played in I Love Paraisópolis (2015).
Actress Lucy Ramos in ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
The three are some examples of how most black professionals are still cast as characters of low economic level and that play social dramas. “Lack of representation, yes. There is, but there needs to be more. The more references on TV, the better for people to accept themselves, to assume themselves, understand their identities and understand that there is more than one type of black [physically]. You have to put blacks in all positions. There has to be a doctor, lawyer, not only the cleaning lady, the cook,” argues Lucy Ramos.
Among the four major novelas on the air on Globo currently (Eta Mundo Bom!,Totalmente Demais, Velho Chico and Liberdade, Liberdade), only 29 actors of the main casts are black. Of these, only three interpret characters who work in professions requiring higher education.
Through its press office, Globo states that “doesn’t target its cast by ethnicity, social class, sex or religion. The cast is cast according to the artistic compatibility of the character and adequacy to the story.”
Fight against racism
Actress Heloisa Jorge, who plays slave Luanda in Liberdade, Liberdade, is Angolan and has already been protagonist of a novela in her country. She believes that although racism is a part of Brazilian society and has an impact in several areas (political, social, economic and artistic), black people are also positioning themselves against it.
“The struggle of the movimento negro (black movement) and the prevailing laws of reparation here in Brazil have been mapping a path of no return. Representativeness matters and is far from being a joke,” she says.
David Jr. has received different treatment for being black and thinks that the change in the arts should happen more widely. “In the United States, the professionals, without distinction of ethnicity, produce themselves, direct themselves, I think it’s cool. Not that there’s no lack of space, but I think that also this lacks more,” he opines.
Actor Bukassa Kabengele in a scene as the character Omar in Liberdade, Liberdade
Power behind the scenes
There is among the actors the view that if more directors, writers, producers and professionals behind the scenes were black, the situation would be different. “There are no black authors who fight for these issues [of ethnicity], we don’t know why they go by or not. But I think if there were more blacks holding positions in which they decide what will be done and what the profiles are that will be placed on the agenda, the chances [of having more black representation on TV] increase,” says Kabengele.
Among the main authors of the Globo novelas, none is black. Xica da Silva (Headline, 1996), written by Walcyr Carrasco, was the first drama to have a black protagonist, Taís Araújo, who later played the first black protagonist in a Globo novela (Da Cor do Pecado, of João Emanuel Carneiro, shown in 2004). Today, she and Lázaro Ramos are the main characters of the series Mister Brau.
“TV Globo is what has the most tele-dramaturgy products, is far ahead, and so it has opened more doors. But I don’t say that it’s enough to contemplate the Brazilian population. The fact is that the number [of black professionals in TV] is still below what Brazil deserves as history and as reality,” he adds.
Source: Folha PE, Foros
Note
By João Miguel Júnior
Actors David Jr. and Jorge Heloisa during the recordings of ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
All six black actors cast in Liberdade Liberdade (Freedom, Freedom) have interpreted roles of slaves or servants in other TV productions. None of them portrayed to judges, farmers or teachers. None was protagonist of a Brazilian novela. On Friday (May 13), the 128th anniversary of the abolition of slavery, blacks are still an absolute minority on television, although the majority of the Brazilian population. The main Globo novelashave 29 black actors, but only three interpret characters with higher education. The professionals who suffer racism in the plot and in real life, complain that there’s a lack of representation and stereotypes are leftover in national television drama.
Scene from ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
In the 11 o’clock Globo TV novela, the history of Brazilian black is told more broadly than the standard of productions of the era. In the plot, which takes place in 1808, there is a slave who maintains frequent sexual relations with his white female master, a black woman that was raised as a sister of a white girl and a freed black serving as a colonel of the Portuguese infantry.
In ‘Liberdade Liberdade’, the character Saviano is the sexual slave of his master Dionísia (2).
For the actor Bukassa Kabengele, 43, who plays the military colonel, the plot of the 11 o’clock novela differentiates itself by escaping the clichés about slaves and displaying scenes that have never been to the fore in other productions. But even so, he thinks blacks need more space in prime time.
“If we are talking about a public that today is certainly real, consumes and is part of the audience, I think there should be a relationship of more presence, evidence and number on TV. It gives the impression that [the situation] has changed and it’s changed indeed, but the [black] population is immense, so the proportionality still leaves (much) to be desired,” he says.
Globo TVs ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
According to the last census, 43.1% of the population considers itself parda(brown/mixed) and 7.6% declares itself preta (black). Between pardos and pretos, there would be 97 million negros (blacks), which would make them the majority of the population, since the count is from 2010, when Brazil had 190.7 million inhabitants.
A slave for the third time
David Jr., 30, Saviano in Liberdade Liberdade, is plays the role of a slave for the third time in his career (3). The others were in the series A Cura (Globo, 2010) and in one theater piece. He has also given life to a security guard in Geração Brasil (2014) and an outlaw called Meio-Noite (meaning midnight) in Cordel Encantado (2011). Now, he is a double slave, he provides sexual services required to his boss, Dionísia (Maitê Proenca). Olívia Araújo, the slave Celeste, played the role of a maid in her last three novelas. Lucy Ramos, who is the slave extortionist Malena, has also been a maidservant in the second version of Sinhá Moça (2006). The exception was the psychologist victim of racism that she played in I Love Paraisópolis (2015).
Actress Lucy Ramos in ‘Liberdade Liberdade’
The three are some examples of how most black professionals are still cast as characters of low economic level and that play social dramas. “Lack of representation, yes. There is, but there needs to be more. The more references on TV, the better for people to accept themselves, to assume themselves, understand their identities and understand that there is more than one type of black [physically]. You have to put blacks in all positions. There has to be a doctor, lawyer, not only the cleaning lady, the cook,” argues Lucy Ramos.
Among the four major novelas on the air on Globo currently (Eta Mundo Bom!,Totalmente Demais, Velho Chico and Liberdade, Liberdade), only 29 actors of the main casts are black. Of these, only three interpret characters who work in professions requiring higher education.
Through its press office, Globo states that “doesn’t target its cast by ethnicity, social class, sex or religion. The cast is cast according to the artistic compatibility of the character and adequacy to the story.”
Fight against racism
Actress Heloisa Jorge, who plays slave Luanda in Liberdade, Liberdade, is Angolan and has already been protagonist of a novela in her country. She believes that although racism is a part of Brazilian society and has an impact in several areas (political, social, economic and artistic), black people are also positioning themselves against it.
“The struggle of the movimento negro (black movement) and the prevailing laws of reparation here in Brazil have been mapping a path of no return. Representativeness matters and is far from being a joke,” she says.
David Jr. has received different treatment for being black and thinks that the change in the arts should happen more widely. “In the United States, the professionals, without distinction of ethnicity, produce themselves, direct themselves, I think it’s cool. Not that there’s no lack of space, but I think that also this lacks more,” he opines.
Actor Bukassa Kabengele in a scene as the character Omar in Liberdade, Liberdade
Power behind the scenes
There is among the actors the view that if more directors, writers, producers and professionals behind the scenes were black, the situation would be different. “There are no black authors who fight for these issues [of ethnicity], we don’t know why they go by or not. But I think if there were more blacks holding positions in which they decide what will be done and what the profiles are that will be placed on the agenda, the chances [of having more black representation on TV] increase,” says Kabengele.
Among the main authors of the Globo novelas, none is black. Xica da Silva (Headline, 1996), written by Walcyr Carrasco, was the first drama to have a black protagonist, Taís Araújo, who later played the first black protagonist in a Globo novela (Da Cor do Pecado, of João Emanuel Carneiro, shown in 2004). Today, she and Lázaro Ramos are the main characters of the series Mister Brau.
“TV Globo is what has the most tele-dramaturgy products, is far ahead, and so it has opened more doors. But I don’t say that it’s enough to contemplate the Brazilian population. The fact is that the number [of black professionals in TV] is still below what Brazil deserves as history and as reality,” he adds.
Source: Folha PE, Foros
Note
- An idea that Afro-Brazilians have taken to heart with a growing array of independenttheater and video productions being presented on stages as well as media outlets such You Tube.
- In this depiction, we see a continuation of the exploitation of the black male who can be enjoyed and discarded after his perceived hypersexualized performance has surpassed his usefulness.
- A situation that actress Solange Couto can relate to. After years appearing in supporting roles, Couto realized that she had portrayed a maid 25 times in her career.
St Vincent Officials No Longer Required To Swear To The Queen
Published: Friday | June 3, 2016 | 12:00 PM
KINGSTOWN, St Vincent (CMC):
A change in the Oaths by Officials Act in St Vincent and the Grenadines will see officials now swearing allegiance and service to their country rather than their ceremonial head of state, Queen Elizabeth 11, her heirs and successor.
Prime Minister Ralph Gonsalves who presented the bill in Parliament this week told lawmakers that from time immemorial, the Oath of Allegiance and the oath for the execution of office, has been sworn, in accordance with the existing law, to Her Majesty, her heirs and successor.
“Mr Speaker, although Her Majesty is the head of state, it doesn’t necessarily follow that you have to swear the allegiance to her,” Gonsalves said.
“There is no constitutional provision to that effect in our Constitution. Parliament has made the law and Parliament can change the Oaths by Officials Act.”
Gonsalves cited Jamaica as an example of a country which has Her Majesty as “our sovereign lady” but do not swear allegiance or oath of execution of office to her.
“What this bill simply does is to replace the Oath of Allegiance which I have read before, with this one: “I [insert name] do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to St Vincent and the Grenadines, that I will uphold and defend the Constitution and laws of St Vincent and the Grenadines and I will conscientiously and impartially discharge my responsibilities to the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines. So help me God.”
PHOTO: Prime Minister Ralph Gonsalves
THE OATH
The Oath for the execution of office would be: “I [insert name] do swear that I will well and truly serve the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines in the office of [insert office name] so help me God.”
Gonsalves said the change in law in no way implies any disrespect to Her Majesty.
“What we simply do here is that we will be true and faithful and bear true allegiance to St. Vincent and the Grenadines as distinct to her majesty and her heirs and successors,” he said.
“This is what this is about. It is making the Oath more consistent with the sensibilities of the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines, even though they may still wish to acknowledge Her Majesty, as they did in the referendum, as the queen of St Vincent and the Grenadines.”
In 2009, Vincentians rejected proposed changes to the Constitution that, among other things, would have seen the Queen replaced by a ceremonial president.
EXPLAINING THE CHANGE
In explaining the change, Gonsalves further said: “But, rather than swearing allegiance to an individual, we swear allegiance to St Vincent and the Grenadines and to the Constitution and to discharge responsibilities impartially and in the execution of our office, rather than to well truly serve her majesty, that we well and truly serve the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines.”
He said that he does not expect that in serving the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines “we will not be serving her majesty. But it is just what is where sense our primary obligation is, and that is what it is about. Simply and straight forward.”
The Prime Minister thanked Minister of Economic Planning, Camillo Gonsalves, who, he said, researched the subject and gave him and the Attorney General the benefit of his research.
“And after full discussion, we agreed that this is the way to go. And that is why we are here in the Parliament,” Gonsalves said.
When he was appointed a senator and Minister of Foreign Affairs in 2013, Camillo noted his objection to having to swear allegiance to Her Majesty.
In his contribution to the debate this week, Camillo said the Oaths Act is very near and dear to him.
He told lawmakers that he is exceedingly proud that the Parliament has an opportunity to discuss and pass an amendment that is “in one sense short, relatively simply.
“It is only a page and a half long and it changes a few words in a relatively obscure act, but, in another sense, it is a profound declaration of our national sovereignty, of our deepening political independence and our continued growth of our nation.
“It is an amendment, Mr Speaker that is not a rejection of anything or anyone, but rather an affirmation of our faith in God, of our faith in the Constitution of St Vincent and the Grenadines, of faith in ourselves and of the fact that our primary obligation as representatives in this Honourable House, is to the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines,” Camillo said.
St Vincent officials no longer required to swear to the Queen
Published: Friday | June 3, 2016 | 12:00 PM
KINGSTOWN, St Vincent (CMC):
A change in the Oaths by Officials Act in St Vincent and the Grenadines will see officials now swearing allegiance and service to their country rather than their ceremonial head of state, Queen Elizabeth 11, her heirs and successor.
Prime Minister Ralph Gonsalves who presented the bill in Parliament this week told lawmakers that from time immemorial, the Oath of Allegiance and the oath for the execution of office, has been sworn, in accordance with the existing law, to Her Majesty, her heirs and successor.
“Mr Speaker, although Her Majesty is the head of state, it doesn’t necessarily follow that you have to swear the allegiance to her,” Gonsalves said.
“There is no constitutional provision to that effect in our Constitution. Parliament has made the law and Parliament can change the Oaths by Officials Act.”
Gonsalves cited Jamaica as an example of a country which has Her Majesty as “our sovereign lady” but do not swear allegiance or oath of execution of office to her.
“What this bill simply does is to replace the Oath of Allegiance which I have read before, with this one: “I [insert name] do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to St Vincent and the Grenadines, that I will uphold and defend the Constitution and laws of St Vincent and the Grenadines and I will conscientiously and impartially discharge my responsibilities to the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines. So help me God.”
PHOTO: Prime Minister Ralph Gonsalves
THE OATH
The Oath for the execution of office would be: “I [insert name] do swear that I will well and truly serve the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines in the office of [insert office name] so help me God.”
Gonsalves said the change in law in no way implies any disrespect to Her Majesty.
“What we simply do here is that we will be true and faithful and bear true allegiance to St. Vincent and the Grenadines as distinct to her majesty and her heirs and successors,” he said.
“This is what this is about. It is making the Oath more consistent with the sensibilities of the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines, even though they may still wish to acknowledge Her Majesty, as they did in the referendum, as the queen of St Vincent and the Grenadines.”
In 2009, Vincentians rejected proposed changes to the Constitution that, among other things, would have seen the Queen replaced by a ceremonial president.
EXPLAINING THE CHANGE
In explaining the change, Gonsalves further said: “But, rather than swearing allegiance to an individual, we swear allegiance to St Vincent and the Grenadines and to the Constitution and to discharge responsibilities impartially and in the execution of our office, rather than to well truly serve her majesty, that we well and truly serve the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines.”
He said that he does not expect that in serving the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines “we will not be serving her majesty. But it is just what is where sense our primary obligation is, and that is what it is about. Simply and straight forward.”
The Prime Minister thanked Minister of Economic Planning, Camillo Gonsalves, who, he said, researched the subject and gave him and the Attorney General the benefit of his research.
“And after full discussion, we agreed that this is the way to go. And that is why we are here in the Parliament,” Gonsalves said.
When he was appointed a senator and Minister of Foreign Affairs in 2013, Camillo noted his objection to having to swear allegiance to Her Majesty.
In his contribution to the debate this week, Camillo said the Oaths Act is very near and dear to him.
He told lawmakers that he is exceedingly proud that the Parliament has an opportunity to discuss and pass an amendment that is “in one sense short, relatively simply.
“It is only a page and a half long and it changes a few words in a relatively obscure act, but, in another sense, it is a profound declaration of our national sovereignty, of our deepening political independence and our continued growth of our nation.
“It is an amendment, Mr Speaker that is not a rejection of anything or anyone, but rather an affirmation of our faith in God, of our faith in the Constitution of St Vincent and the Grenadines, of faith in ourselves and of the fact that our primary obligation as representatives in this Honourable House, is to the people of St Vincent and the Grenadines,” Camillo said.
St Vincent officials no longer required to swear to the Queen