Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts

Monday, December 23, 2013

Break Time

Break Time
by Delroy Nesta Williams

Home was never really a happy place. I was the first of three children, all girls raised by a single mom and all of us by different fathers. She, my mother, was a victim of men’s promises, each one filling her with empty words of taking care of her and her children but each wanting and leaving her after they had their own. She learned the lesson quickly though and although it stressed her to take care of all of us by her lonesome self, my mother seldom complained. My mother worked any and every job she could find to provide for us and that really meant that raising the children and running the house was left to the eldest among us, which just so happened to be me!

Some days were good but lately I felt like the world was on my frail, tiny shoulders and I needed a break. I tried to remain strong because I, as the oldest, maybe understood what my mother was going through the best. I never heard or saw my mother cry, well actually, I did, but only once. She was having a phone conversation late one night and I just happened to be awake. Words that may be hidden by the noise of the day ring loud in the still of the night. She was speaking about my father and from what I could understand from the muttered, tear-filled words, he was not helping her to pay for my CXC exams and the deadline for payment was coming up soon. I promised myself then and there that I would approach him as soon as I could, I had no idea what I would tell him though but I was sure that he would look at me in a different light after our encounter.

I never told my mother about it and it had been almost two weeks since I overheard her conversation but I was yet to see my father. I had tried to block out the late night images from my thoughts but any little issue would bring back her words and tears, even if I only envisioned them from across the walls of our small house. My mother was already out of the house by the time I got up from my mattress, which I had placed in the corner of the room so she wouldn’t disturb me when she was leaving for work. It was like that almost every morning and although it was only 6:30 a.m., she had already taken two buses to make her way to work in Mero, which meant that she usually left the house before my younger sisters were even awake.

I was busy frying eggs and sausage when my sisters, Lisha and Kerdisha, came into our small outdoor kitchen moving like they were sleepwalking.

                “We hungry!” they cried out in unison.

                “Allu just get up wii, go an’ take a bath, when allu come back allu will get breakfast,” I replied as sternly as I could. I reminded myself of my mother, she was beginning to rub off on me so much that it frightened me at times.

                “And hurry up eh, we walking to school today cause mammy doh leave bus money for us,”

Ten minutes later and they had both returned to the kitchen, half dressed but with a famish in their eyes that softened my heart.

                “Eat! Eat before allu fall down dere on my account eh. I cyah answer to mammy much less for de government,” again borrowing my mother’s phrases. I never understood what she meant about answering to the Government but it always seemed to instill fear in me so I used it with my sisters. They looked up to me so much that I couldn’t be too hard on them though, not all the time.

By the time they had eaten and gotten fully dressed, it was already 7:30 and we rushed out of the house. From where we lived in Newtown the school was a quick walk but with two troublesome sisters, even that could be a challenge. Lisha had a question about everything she saw and Kerdisha would always find something to play with just to annoy me. But still, I loved my sisters, more than anyone in my life.

School was a different world though; it was my sanctuary from the troubles and challenges of home. For about five hours I didn’t have to think about anything else but classes and assignments. Oh and off course, my girls! We had developed our little clique from first form, five years ago and we had still remained friends from that time. There were fallouts, major ones too but we always found a way to come back together. The Gorgeous Girls: Kisha, Lorry, Crystal, Natasha and I. I had known Natasha longer than the rest, since our days in primary school so we were closest among the five of us. Still, lately Natasha had become a little distant from the rest of us. There were times when she wouldn’t eat with us at break time, and now she was always late for our library “meetings” and had become very secretive.

That was unlike her because she used to be the bubbly one that always cracked the jokes or picked on each of us. She was the glue that kept us together. She had mended the fallout between Lorry and Kisha over Craig.  It seemed that Lorry had liked Craig but Craig was only interested in Kisha so that put a rift between the girls but Natasha stepped in and Craig stepped out of the picture soon after that. I can still remember the look on his face when she told him to “get to stepping” - her favorite phrase at that time.

Natasha, Crystal and I were in the same class which also meant we spent more time together whereas Lorry and Kisha were in another class across the school yard. Crystal was being forced to remain in the class during break time because she stood up to the teacher during our history class. Unfortunately for Crystal, her mouth was always her biggest problem. She took offence at the teacher saying that Christopher Columbus discovered Dominica. She had the balls to put Miss Seaman on blast and ended up by calling her “brainwashed and stupid” and accused her of “perpetuating stereotypes” in front of the entire class. Off course, a class of hyped up teenage girls took the opportunity to laugh at Miss Seaman which wasn’t at all too pleasing to her so she made an example of Crystal. Crystal didn’t worry about the punishment though because in her mind she had won, Miss Seaman wouldn’t be discounting the contributions of her Kalinago people anymore. There was no greater victory since Crystal was actually of Kalinago heritage, at least from her mother’s side of the family. But please don’t tell Crystal that she was only half-Kalinago, unless you wanted to face the wrath of her death stare!

Lorry and Kisha, the sports junkies had a netball team meeting during the break as well, which meant that I had Natasha all to myself, so we could talk about her strange behavior lately. We went to our section of the school yard, underneath the flambouyant tree. It was our regular meeting point, so much so that the other girls in the school didn’t even venture near it. That spot would remain empty even if we didn’t use it during break; so much was the respect and fear we had garnered from the rest of the school. Nobody questioned our right to the spot and we loved that.

As we sat on the bench, I pulled out my snack from my paper bag but I noticed that Natasha didn’t have anything in her hands.

                “Where your snack ner?” I asked.

                “I waiting for it,” she responded.

                “Waiting for it, what you mean you waiting for it?”

                “Somebody bringing it for me jus now,” she said coyly.

                “Okay den,” I sounded as I stared into her big brown eyes.

She tried to watch away but I saw the glimmer in her eyes which meant that there was more to the story than what she was telling me. Natasha could never keep a secret and if there was one, I was surprised that she had kept it from me for so long. As I searched her eyes I realized that my friend seemed a lot different. She was changing right before my very eyes and I had barely even noticed until now. She had relaxed her hair a few weeks ago but that didn’t raise any alarms. Upon closer inspection though, I now saw that Natasha was evolving into a fine young woman. Her eyebrows were shaped, her earrings were different, shimmering in the early morning sunlight and even her uniform seemed new.

                “What’s going on ner?” I asked.

                “Nothing, why?”

                “You seem different,”

                “Me?”

                “No corn, yes you!” I scolded her.

                “Girl you behaving too much like your moda eh,” she laughed in her attempt to change the topic but that wasn’t working. I wanted to know why my best friend was slowly changing and I hadn’t even noticed it until now. But worst, why she hadn’t confided in me at all. It was unlike her, we spoke about everything, she knew all of my secrets and I thought I knew all of hers, until now.

                “Talk, I want to know,”

                “I can’t tell you!”

                “You can tell me anything eh!”

                “Not that one ner!”

                “Why ner?”

                “I made a promise wii,”

                “Wat about our promise? Wat about our friendship den?”

                “Dat different eh,”

Just then Natasha pushed her hands into the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a cell phone which was vibrating in her hand. I was surprised. She hastily read and responded to the text message then turned to me.

                “You have a cell phone?” I shrieked.

                “Yes, I do!” she responded defiantly.

                “Since when?” I questioned.

                “Since he…,” she paused, “since I bought one.”

                “Who is he? Doh think I doh hear de he eh,”

                “It not important and I cyah tell you anyways,”

                “If it not important den I can know,” I said as I cornered her.

                “My boyfriend dat buy me de phone, okay!”

                “You have boyfriend? Since when? How I doh know dat?” I yelled.

                “Well tell de whole school ner!” she responded, sucking her teeth at me.

                “Sorry, sorry… but you have boyfriend wii, your mother know that?”

                “How my mother can know that ner?”

                “So she doh see de phone den?”

                “It always on silent!”

                “Since when you have boyfriend?”

                “About two months now,”

                “TWO whole months,” I screamed out at first then but lowering my voice as I realized I was embarrassing my friend.

                “So when you was going to tell me? And who is he?”

                “But look I jus tell you wii and you might see him cuz he bringing snack for me just now. He dat jus text me der,”

                “Okay, okay,”

                “But you cyah make him see you, so you will have to hide,”

                “Why I have to hide?”

                “Cuz is our secret. He doh want people to know for now,”

                “Who is he?”

                “You will see when he come in de ride!”

                “He have a ride den? Big tings man?”

                “Yes, he does!”

And that was the end of that as she left to go to the washroom. We now had our plan though and I would stay behind the wall, walking out just about the time where he was handing her the snack so I could sneak a peek at him. He had a car which meant he had to be a lot older than her but she didn’t take me on when I raised my objection.

                “I going to have a boyfriend one day eh, so why it cyah be today?” she asked.

                “So allu sexing? Your moda know?”

                “Yes, we fuck a few times... my moda can never know, she still think I a virgin wii,”

                “Agatha go break your bones”

                “And your moda doh break yours?”

I had no response to so I dropped the issue and changed the topic. My friend seemed happy and so I would be happy for her even if it troubled me that he was a lot older than her. We would soon be out of school though, graduating in a few months so I guess in her mind she was ready to be an adult. I couldn’t see myself with a boyfriend. Not because I didn’t want one but because my mother would kill me. She had already embarrassed me enough for Jason the last time. She had given me a beating in the school yard when she found out about it, an experience I don’t want to ever relive. Her daily scolding was now enough to keep me without a boyfriend for the next ten years.

We continued to talk for about two minutes, enough time for her to tell me about how she met her new boyfriend. She had gone by All Nations Bar in Newtown to buy fish and fries for her mother on a Friday night and he was there with his girlfriend, where they were having a public break up. Then he met her there a few weeks later and started up a conversation. He had even paid for her meal that night and that started things off. They didn’t meet too often because he worked a lot but when he could he would take her out, even at nights and at weekends. She would tell her mother that she was going over to my house, even without my knowledge. He bought her the cell phone for her birthday, a Samsung Galaxy S3. I had never owned a cell phone, my mother couldn’t afford it. My mother would have broken my bones too if I had ever brought one home. She didn’t want me accepting gifts from anybody. Her words always rang in my ears, “men don’t give you anything without expecting something in return.” I always sensed bitterness in her words when she said that, like she was speaking from a dark experience, like she had lived out the mistake herself.

Just when my thoughts were transitioning to images of my mother and that fateful phone conversation, Natasha jumped up from our spot and rushed towards the school gate. I was well hidden behind the wall and ready to follow through with our plan. I could see her big broad smile in the reflection of the car’s glass. It was well tinted; I couldn’t see a thing through the glass. She seemed more than happy with her boyfriend as she waited for him to bring down the window. It came down slowly to reveal an older man, his eyes hidden by a pair of sunglasses. As he himself lifted the glasses, I saw his very own smile as well. He donned a wide spaced tooth, strong cheek bones that rose up with his smile. But I still couldn’t make him out properly as he turned his head towards her and he reached into a bag to pull out her snack. It was then that I stepped forward to have a closer look at the mystery man. His smile froze on his face as my mouth opened wide too.

Mr. Charles was her boyfriend. Mr. Damian Charles, her boyfriend. My best friend’s boyfriend was my very own father! The man who wouldn’t pay my CXC fees was wining and dining my best friend.

The End.

Friday, March 22, 2013

Lucifer

Another excerpt from my book "David and I"


Lucifer
by Delroy "Nesta" Williams

            “What is the capital of Jamaica?’ I thought to myself. I knew the answer; it was either Kingston or Kingstown. I always mixed up these two but it wasn’t the time to be unsure. I needed that answer to get an A on my final exam. I had already calculated my score in my head. My mother had promised me a trip to Roseau during the summer if I had gotten all A’s. I couldn’t wait to run along the city streets and go to the market with her. I had never been to Roseau, I heard a lot of things about it though, my mother would go there ever so often and always returned with lots of groceries and fine things.

I had imagined Roseau as a very big city, with very tall buildings, wide streets not like the wooden houses and dirt roads of Gros Michel, far from that too. There was no way the capital could be anything like my village. Besides with street names like King George V Street and Great George Street, I couldn’t help but think that Roseau was a majestic city full of business men driving their fancy cars, looking really important in their suits and ties. At least that’s what I read in books about the cities of Europe, I would expect the same of Roseau.

            “Delroy, Delroy... what’s de answer for 12 an 15?” whispered someone behind me, disturbing my thoughts.

            “I doh know ner,” I responded without even turning around for fear that Teacher Roach would see me. She heard and saw everything; I was scared to death of that lady. She was so stern and meticulous, nothing escaped her.

            “Tell me ner before Teacher come back in de class”

            “No boy, I fraid,” I continued.

            “Boy jus say de ting quick before she come back, hurry ner,”

            “No boy, I cyah do that.”

            “Hear de man, boy I doh want to fail that test ner, I doh want to repeat mamzelle class,”

At that very moment, a cold breeze filled the room, everything got quiet and even the mosquitoes that were buzzing around my arms and legs seemed to stand still. The hands on the old class clock, which only worked during exams, seemed to stop too.

            “Delroy and Dwight, what have I said about talking during tests?” Teacher Roach asked sternly.

I stayed quiet; I wasn’t going to utter a word, not me, never.

            “Delroy! Dwight! Who is going to answer me?”

            “I cyah remember ner Teacher,” Dwight responded defiantly.

            “You cyah remember ner Teacher?” she responded mockingly, “We will see who remembers when I take out Lucifer from the cupboard.”

Lucifer was a giant rod that was kept locked up in the class cupboard and only used for “special” occasions. I had overhead the other teachers referring to it as the rod of correction. Teacher Roach used it to perfection, scaring the life out of all its victims. I had only received two strokes from Lucifer before and I didn’t want anymore. I had trouble sitting down on my chair for weeks after that.

            “Who remembers what I have said about talking during tests?’ Teacher Roach asked the class.

            “Teacher, you say we shouldn’t talk with anybody or cheat,” responded Mary. I hated Mary, she was always quick to respond and yearned to be the teacher’s favourite. To say she annoyed me and the class was the biggest understatement.

            “And who can tell me what Delroy and Dwight were doing?”

            “Miss they were talking,” Mary responded again without any hesitation.

            “Is that against the rules?”

            “Yes Teacher,” the class all responded in complete unison.

            “What do we do to students who break the rules?”

            “We show them to Lucifer!” Michael, a boy in the back row shouted out.

            “How many strokes do you recommend Mary?”

            “Me, Teacher,” she quirked, “I would give them five each,” she continued with a huge grin.

            “Delroy, take the keys from the desk and take Lucifer from the cupboard.”

            “No Teacher, no,” I cried out, “it wasn’t my fault.”

            “So whose fault was it?”

At that point I looked over to Dwight and I could see the anger building up inside him. I was caught between a rock and a hard place, but I could always escape Dwight; Lucifer on the other hand was a sure thing.

            “So whose fault was it Delroy?” Teacher Roach asked again.

            “Teacher, Dwight that ask me for answers to questions 12 and 15,”

            “Dwight is that true?”

Dwight didn’t budge, he didn’t say a word but I could tell that if he could have killed me at that time that he would have done it so swiftly that not even the hand of God could have prevented my death. The vein in the middle of his forehead was about ready to pop open; the blood would have splashed all over the walls of the classroom.  

            “Delroy, get me the rod, now!

            “Yes Miss,”

As I returned to my seat I put my head on my desk. I had just sent Dwight to the slaughterhouse but the sad thing is that he would survive and revenge would be his own. Dwight didn’t utter a sound during his five strokes; he was too busy thinking about how he would pay me back for the treachery.

We still had two more exams to complete before the end of the day. I could be sure he or his friends wouldn’t attack me before the bell had rung. I was quickly devising an escape strategy. I needed a plan since my house was on the other side of the village and I had to cross the guava field and pass directly in front of Dwight’s house before reaching Lime Street.

Monday, January 7, 2013

Dominican porn saga...


Dear Friends:

I said I was just going to ignore the videos and the posts and maybe it would all go away before I got the urge to give my two cents, I was wrong.

I understand that everyone has an opinion and rightly so, what kind of society would we be if this incident didn't generate some discourse. 

I would have been more worried then. But as we famously do as a people when things like this happens, we point a finger, playing the blame game. Instead, as a society we should be looking at ways to curb this behaviour, identify warning signs and create help-desks for people who have been victims or even perpetrators of such crimes. 

It is clear that these young people were taken advantage of, victims of their own naivety or eagerness to please. But just how do we ensure that these incidents don't arise again.

Is enough being done in terms of sex education and protection (I didn't see any condoms in the videos) and in terms of teaching moral and ethical values to our children. It is one thing to engage in sex (even making a video), it is a totally different ball game when you distribute the videos. It then becomes pornography (child porn in this case) and a cyber crime of international proportions. Once these things hit the internet then it is no longer a local issue. The ramifications are endless. 

I say all this to conclude that we as a society need to address sex and sexuality in more palatable ways so that the message in driven and form part of the knowledge, attitudes and practice of our people. It is one thing to know about the dangers of something and a totally different thing to put what you've learned into practice.

Where do we start? At schools? At Churches? At Clubs? No, we start within the homes. Parents should be willing enough and open enough to "discuss" sex and sexuality with their children. And I put discuss in inverted commas because a lot of what we think is discussion in Caribbean families is actually a shouting, blaming game. 

I can say more and I hope I get the opportunity to say a lot more and even help out if the need arises but our young people, our future deserve more than what we are giving them.

Thank You
Delroy N. Williams
Youth Activist

There are news stories of the incident here:
Dominica News Online
Dominica Vibes 

Saturday, December 22, 2012

A Poem for Newtown


A Poem for Newtown
By Delroy Nesta Williams and Anique Cuffy


Just got shot and killed
They told me I'm heading to heaven
But why did this happen to me?
I'm only seven
Barely seen much since kindergarten
I'm supposed to be in school
Learning Science and History
Now I'm the one who's history
I hope though that my death doesn't cause too much misery
But is instead a lesson
And the reason that the world changes direction
Why the need for guns?
One minute I'm laughing with my friends
The next my life has come to an end
I didn't even get a chance to say a prayer
Because the Lord wasn't welcomed here
Not within the walls of my school
But now everyone's praying to the Lord to comfort my family
Something's wrong with this picture, seriously!
How do they expect me to rest in peace?
When the last thing I heard was gun shots and screams
Held my best friends hand as our lives ended in misery
And the saddest thing is the reason for our death will always remain a mystery
Our souls went into evanescence
While our bodies just laid there lifeless
So many gun shots wounds to our heads and chests
Can we even have an open casket?
Our right to live was taken from us
All our dreams crushed until they turned to dust
And soon all memories of us will be like scrap metal in a landfill
Just waiting to rust
Yes, we’ll rest but we’ll never be at peace
We’ll sit with the Master and with angels up high
And look down and say, Lord why do they keep missing the signs?
It’s so clear to see, so easy to read
Why don’t they take heed?
It’s time to take a stand!
Fight for those who don’t have the chance
The little boys and girls just like me
Who are prey to the situations just like these,
Who are just happy to go through life every day,
Not worried about the guns while they play.
Childhood should be a period free from strife
Not afraid or clinging on for dear life
I pray for my family and all the other families
That they, while on earth, will find peace
And they do justice to our memory
Please, just take away all the havoc and mischief
Let God sit in you all hearts
And stop asking why?
What happened to us was just a reminder
That this world is sick, in need of a cure
And God didn’t make it our home forever
And one day this, yes this will all be over
With hearts that a pure
He’ll take us to our true home over yonder
But for now, stop sit and wonder
And start act to bring us justice
The guns, the violence – we’ve got to stop this
We can’t have another Newtown
We can’t have another shootout
We got to change our route
And as a people just accept the truth
That guns in the hand of any and everybody
Is a recipe to kill anybody
Even the little children, the innocent boys and girls
We’re killing off the future of this world…

Friday, May 29, 2009

Poem: life's education

My sister wanted a poem about school and I wrote one for her, not the kind of school she had in mind but everything that happens throughout our lifetime teaches us something so I took that as my inspiration for the poem. The poem may seem dark to you but I actually draw alot of hope from it.

Life’s Education
By Delroy "Nesta" Williams


There are no walls or blackboards here
And the lesson is taught after the class,
Though the teacher is omni-present
He’s still invisible to the carefree student.

This is a time of personal battles,
Where it seems the world determines the rules,
And just when you think you’ve earned the grades
With graduation on the horizon,
A new lesson from the teacher emerges.

A glimmer of your hope quickly erased in an instant
For two steps forward can lead to a hike from miles away.
There’s no room for petty games in this classroom
As the school is life long
And coronation comes after the grave.

Only death hands over the certificate
As a passage to true liberty,
This depends on personal choices
To a newness that can’t be enslaved.

Only achievable by the path trodden,
To and from the school of life,
But beware of the eternal detention
If you don’t heed life’s lesson.