I want to be the poet
Who speaks the words of
the ordinary people.
Not al all to write
about the beauty of white
Campville Times – Cyril Browne
..Yes, I am a proud “Scheme Man” ..the memories and boundless, exciting cultural experiences I enjoyed while growing up in “Campbellville Scheme”.
Diversity in Our Villages; Harmony in Our Culture – Ken Corsbie
.. it occurred to me that the Georgetown street and block where I lived my teenage years was one of very many villages within “the city”, …“my village” which, like most Georgetown villages was an almost complete microcosm of the Guyana theme “six races one destiny
The North Savannahs – Salvador de Caires
The interior of Guyana is a spectacular place. Unfortunately very few Guyanese know it. By interior, we Guyanese mean anything that is not between the mouths of the Essequibo and the Courantyne Rivers and within twenty miles of the Coast
Religious Holidays and Social Interaction in Upper Corentyne – John “Slingshot”Drepaul
I grew up in the No 63-64 Village. This area is populated predominantly by people of East Indian and African descent….regardless of our religious and political views and social standing, neighbourly love and support were never far….
You Have Left Something – Francis Quamina Farrier
We all had a wonderful day visiting with the good people at the Rupununi village of Sand Creek, and were ready to leave. …Sand Creek is poised at the base of the majestic Kanuku Mountain range, which stretches over a hundred miles, from Suriname in the east to Brazil in the west. It is the home of the endangered giant harpy eagle….
Uncle Big Man – Peter Halder
Uncle Big Man worked in the Machine Shop at the Demerara Bauxite Company, Mackenzie, Upper Demerara River.Everyone knew him as Uncle Big Man and very few knew that his real name was Archibald Penassolein…The ghastly looking man wore the same shirt and pants almost every day, washing them overnight.
The Dunce For Jimmy Holder – Marc Matthews
we lazy goodfornothing we he wrote
(as far as he could see) miraculously bred
from Cane, condemned to afterbirth of pain
felled as Abel or ravaged by selfloathing
insecurity, doubt, migrate to land of insane
Duh Is Um – Henry Mutoo
The old Vauxhall car turned left out of Russell street and onto Sussesx Street, and was soon bumping and rattling its way towards Cooper street, where Albert was headed for a rendezvous with his mother, sister and brother, whom he had left behind nearly thirty years ago…
Bv Means Better Fuh Walk In- Kwesi Oginga
The village, Beterverwagting, became popular because it had the longest road for a visitor to walk in before they could get to that part of the village where people lived. Many men took that road into the village after their first date with their fiancée, and you never heard from them again, until they were married and with children and settled and living happily, somewhere in the village.
Saroo, Juror and Judge – Kennard Ramphal
“They select you as juror. You have to go to the Law Court in Georgetown on April 21.” Paulo looked at the calendar which hung on a nail on the house post. “That’s not next Monday. It’s the other Monday. You have to go at 9.00 o’clock in the morning. That mean you got to catch the 7.30 boat.”
Conversations with an Old Woman-The Patamona Legend of Kaieteur – Rohan Sagar
….You see Kaieteur was once her sacred home, for she was a Patamona, the People of the Mountains. It was here that they would come to give obeisance to the Makonaima (Great Spirit) leaving their homes from atop mountains, from afar as Matiák (Mahdia) or Tuma-Tuma-ri (Tumatumari), walking for days or weeks as the case would be, to interface with the Great Spirit.
String Bands Of Guyana – Ray Seales
Guyana is known as the land of many rivers and cultures. In the sixties, we were also known as the land of many string bands…..Bands mushroomed across our beautiful Greenland in every Ward Village Town and City, spreading love and harmony amongst a heavily divided nation. It was as if God had sent music to us as a last resort before he rained down fire and brimstone (yet to come)
Rain – Liesl Zitman
Swaying in faint guava scented breezes
dark tree tops rustle like giant rain sticks
long black coconut palms fronds
wave and sway
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