The Bank of Nova Scotia Jamaica Limited now has an advertisement running on local (Jamaican) radio.
It says this is how ‘guy’ formerly picked up ‘girl’. Then comes the sound of what is clearly a bicycle bell. Short, sweet, shrill. Cute and sexy. I’d ride on that bike any day.
Then, the ad continues: This is how ‘guy’ picks up ‘girl’ since saving with Scotiabank. Then comes the long honk of a car horn (and believe me, I see BMW). The sound says: “Hurry up gyal; if yu evva mekk mi late fi Passa Passa, yu yei deh guh black an’ blue”.
I am incensed!!!
Is this the best that BNS can do with my advertising dollar?
I will say this: if ‘guy’ came to my gate in 1980 (when I was young, cute and sexy) and honked that BMW horn, my father would have put some caps in those fancy tires with his 9mm.
Jeezas, BNS. The society is hassled enough. Couldn’t you come up with a more pleasing way for ‘guy’ to use his savings to seek out ‘girl’?
Written April 26, 2007
©SABa
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
MEMOIRS
So here I am. Broke. Alone. Empty.
At the end of 2006 I said good-bye to formal employment and set out on my merry own – started my own Law Practice. Proud as a Peacock I was. Believed I would be an instant success. That I’d have a plethora of clients with a myriad of issues for which I could charge reasonable sums and live quite comfortably.
But the Stars had other plans for me. It’s been four (4) months. I cannot make my life-insurance payments. My mortgage is in arrears. I eat because I have a mother who is my lifeblood.
I am worried about my inability to meet my debts. I like to be able to pay bills on time. Mi feisty an’ nuh waa nobaddi fass wid mi.
I am concerned that my beautiful office, with an enviable view of the Caribbean Sea, is empty, bereft of clients. Bare. No-one to offer me work or even bask in the great atmosphere the space has to offer.
It’s strange. I am concerned for my debts, but nothing else. I am otherwise quite content. My son is fine and healthy. My mother – 74 years – is in perfect health. I like my ability to enter my office – my space – and enjoy it. It is desirable to earn and I am perturbed that I am so content. But I am. That’s it. Full stop.
I have a few clients, some I like, some I don’t. And I am a big ‘spirit-tekk’ smaddie – I believe in dealing with or being around those with whom my personality connects. I like the simple life.
Regrets, I’ve had a few; too few to mention. This is not one of them. This was the dream. The independence. The autonomy. That’s all I ever wanted.
But there’s an emptiness; one I cannot fathom.
Then just last week my son’s birthday present to me arrived a month early. In it, two books, one by Alice Walker made famous by The Color Purple. This book is We are the Ones we have been Waiting for: Inner light in a Time of Darkness, published this very year. And I am enthralled. It could not have arrived at a better time in my life. It is the writings of Ms. Walker – speeches she delivered and thoughts and poetry she has on different aspects of being.
In it, inter alia, she speaks to “the pause” so eloquently and beautifully. She advised not to fear it, for if we cannot give it to ourselves, the Universe will give it to us in illness; collapsing government or the unexpected breaking down of the car. She describes the pause as the Universal moment of reflection. And while this can be likened to ‘menopause’, I read Alice Walker’s words differently. I read ‘pause’ as a time when there’s nothing happening in your life. When there’s emptiness. “It isn’t easy,” she says, “to see that this is a good time.” And having read her words I am inspired to enjoy this time. To think. To imagine. To reach. To plan.
So, I will no longer panic that my practice is as slow as molasses (as I have oft described it to my friends). I will be thankful for this time. I will record this time. And later, when all is a hustle, I will reflect on it and bask in the glory of having experienced it.
© SABa
April 23, 2007
At the end of 2006 I said good-bye to formal employment and set out on my merry own – started my own Law Practice. Proud as a Peacock I was. Believed I would be an instant success. That I’d have a plethora of clients with a myriad of issues for which I could charge reasonable sums and live quite comfortably.
But the Stars had other plans for me. It’s been four (4) months. I cannot make my life-insurance payments. My mortgage is in arrears. I eat because I have a mother who is my lifeblood.
I am worried about my inability to meet my debts. I like to be able to pay bills on time. Mi feisty an’ nuh waa nobaddi fass wid mi.
I am concerned that my beautiful office, with an enviable view of the Caribbean Sea, is empty, bereft of clients. Bare. No-one to offer me work or even bask in the great atmosphere the space has to offer.
It’s strange. I am concerned for my debts, but nothing else. I am otherwise quite content. My son is fine and healthy. My mother – 74 years – is in perfect health. I like my ability to enter my office – my space – and enjoy it. It is desirable to earn and I am perturbed that I am so content. But I am. That’s it. Full stop.
I have a few clients, some I like, some I don’t. And I am a big ‘spirit-tekk’ smaddie – I believe in dealing with or being around those with whom my personality connects. I like the simple life.
Regrets, I’ve had a few; too few to mention. This is not one of them. This was the dream. The independence. The autonomy. That’s all I ever wanted.
But there’s an emptiness; one I cannot fathom.
Then just last week my son’s birthday present to me arrived a month early. In it, two books, one by Alice Walker made famous by The Color Purple. This book is We are the Ones we have been Waiting for: Inner light in a Time of Darkness, published this very year. And I am enthralled. It could not have arrived at a better time in my life. It is the writings of Ms. Walker – speeches she delivered and thoughts and poetry she has on different aspects of being.
In it, inter alia, she speaks to “the pause” so eloquently and beautifully. She advised not to fear it, for if we cannot give it to ourselves, the Universe will give it to us in illness; collapsing government or the unexpected breaking down of the car. She describes the pause as the Universal moment of reflection. And while this can be likened to ‘menopause’, I read Alice Walker’s words differently. I read ‘pause’ as a time when there’s nothing happening in your life. When there’s emptiness. “It isn’t easy,” she says, “to see that this is a good time.” And having read her words I am inspired to enjoy this time. To think. To imagine. To reach. To plan.
So, I will no longer panic that my practice is as slow as molasses (as I have oft described it to my friends). I will be thankful for this time. I will record this time. And later, when all is a hustle, I will reflect on it and bask in the glory of having experienced it.
© SABa
April 23, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Mi Blagg
Mi mussi di furs smaddie fi try a blagg enna patois. Mi Jamaikan, so it real. Mi nuh know no odda way.
Crime big eena Jamaika, but as a smaddie wha meet offendas all di time, mi know fi real seh if nuff a dem did know how fi read an write; can tawk up fi demself (articulate); can reason and rationalise tings, dem would-a nevva tun to crime. Nuff a dem man ya smart; cute yu fart an know how fi get tings dun - know how fi execute tings. Dats why dem get eena trouble. When mi si a 15 year old bwai who mekk a gun wha can fyah deadly bullet, mi si a genius; mi si a yout who could-a mekk di next cyar wha run pon waata as fuel; mi si a yout who can change di worl'.
But chu dem poor, lack opportunity, hungry an cyaa learn or some a dem too brite fi di klass an di poor teecha nuh know how fi deal wid dat; dem en' up a use dem head fi figure out how fi do harm an bring destruction. It sad. Is nat dat dem nuh value life, is dat dem nuh even undastan' it. It nuh mean a damn to dem.
How wi can change di cycle? Teach. Tawk. Reason. Love. Mi touch a 16 ear old yout pan him han di odda day as him stan' up backka di bars, an' mi know seh a di firs expression a love him evva si. Poor ting. Yea, dem yout ya nuh ha no faddah, an dem maddah fool fool - mentally abused and battad. How dem ooman deh fi raise proppa pickney? Sad eeh!
Oprah Winfrey seh if yu educate di ooman dem, yu wi change di nation. Yea. But a long time now ooman eena jamaika more h'educated dan di man dem an tings a get worse. Mi seh, educate di yout amn dem; stop emasculate dem an' di difference will be immediate.
A so mi seh. But wha mi know?
Crime big eena Jamaika, but as a smaddie wha meet offendas all di time, mi know fi real seh if nuff a dem did know how fi read an write; can tawk up fi demself (articulate); can reason and rationalise tings, dem would-a nevva tun to crime. Nuff a dem man ya smart; cute yu fart an know how fi get tings dun - know how fi execute tings. Dats why dem get eena trouble. When mi si a 15 year old bwai who mekk a gun wha can fyah deadly bullet, mi si a genius; mi si a yout who could-a mekk di next cyar wha run pon waata as fuel; mi si a yout who can change di worl'.
But chu dem poor, lack opportunity, hungry an cyaa learn or some a dem too brite fi di klass an di poor teecha nuh know how fi deal wid dat; dem en' up a use dem head fi figure out how fi do harm an bring destruction. It sad. Is nat dat dem nuh value life, is dat dem nuh even undastan' it. It nuh mean a damn to dem.
How wi can change di cycle? Teach. Tawk. Reason. Love. Mi touch a 16 ear old yout pan him han di odda day as him stan' up backka di bars, an' mi know seh a di firs expression a love him evva si. Poor ting. Yea, dem yout ya nuh ha no faddah, an dem maddah fool fool - mentally abused and battad. How dem ooman deh fi raise proppa pickney? Sad eeh!
Oprah Winfrey seh if yu educate di ooman dem, yu wi change di nation. Yea. But a long time now ooman eena jamaika more h'educated dan di man dem an tings a get worse. Mi seh, educate di yout amn dem; stop emasculate dem an' di difference will be immediate.
A so mi seh. But wha mi know?
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