The Senior Government Official Guyanese Women Dislike

1These days I don’t say a whole lot about politics in Guyana but that doesn’t mean that I have nothing to say. I’m just not ready to say it. I’m still here and I’m still engaging my country men and women and I’m still recording experiences and opinions. Since the Granger government swore in its ministers and appointed its senior officials there has been a lot of muttering – even from that half the population that is pro-Coalition government. A chunk of the mutterings has come from women who very passionately dislike a certain senior government official.

Last week – in a blatantly sexist  act – I got in the car of a female taxi driver. It was quite some distance to my destination and so we got to talking about her profession, why she chose it and whether she felt very secure doing it. We drove by a trench that was recently cleaned and she commented about how the new government really was making an effort. I told her I was fond of the new president’s image even if I didn’t like some of the policy edits and approaches. Her response?

“Yeah girl, I like we new president to but it got one one of them people he got around he that I really can’t tek.”

“Oh?” I waited for her to say more.

“I mean I don’t understand how some people and them dutty character get big government wuk.”

She began telling me a story of sexual harassment and even without her naming the individual I immediately knew about whom she was speaking. Long before this particular Government official rose to his current position he has been infamous for his attitude to women – particularly younger women.

“I went to him expecting some professionalism, you know, and all I get was him trying to bus’ a hustle in me. Telling me about how he could do things to my body and how he want fuck me. I mean what shit is that? Can you imagine how I felt? How was I suppose to receive a service from a man like duh eh? And imagine this nonsense now, he get big government wuk.”

I related my own encounter with the same gentleman to her. It had happened more than 7 years ago at the Georgetown Magistrates’ Court. Since then, I’ve heard many similar stories from women about him. The standard response to this particular official is “O, he? Everybody know how he stay”.

Such sordid behaviour from our politicians is nothing new. However, it certainly isn’t normal behaviour and it shouldn’t be accepted behaviour. A prerequisite of holding political office should be impeccable moral character and it is something we should begin demanding. The future of Guyana lies not in party politics but in the ability of a nation to recognise what it deserves and to demand those things.

Vagina!

I’m a woman and yes of course I have a vagina. I just realised that I haven’t written this word once on my blog. Shame on me. Anyway, to make up for it let’s all say it:

VAGINA! VAGINA! VAGINA!

See? Not so bad, now was it?

Oh wait, I should note here that I am partial to the word “cunt” as well. I’ll have to write about it soon.

Now go thy way and do not be afraid to say Vagina!

Sharing a quick moment with you while I’m on the go.
Sara.

Stop run ya man’s phone, email and facebook!

Trust is not a one way thing.

It’s ironic that people ask me for relationship advice. You’d think I’m some very experienced woman with enough ruined relationships to serve as a sort of guru. I’m not.

Every time a woman in particular asks me for advice the conversation ends one way. She’s depressed and angry by the end of it and usually writes me off as a “cruel bitch”. I don’t mind. We’re not all wired to take the truth. So ladies, if you’re going to keep reading this, keep in mind that the truth hurts and pisses off even the most controlled among us.

Last week, one girl asked me if I thought her man was cheating on her. This is how the conversation went:

Distressed Woman – I think he’s cheating on me.

Me – Why?

DW – I saw some messages on his phone to this girl.

Me – I see. And how exactly did you see his phone?

DW – I went through it while he was in the shower. I know. I know. That’s wrong. But he makes me feel like I have to.

Me – Well, leave him.

DW – But I’m not sure if he’s cheating. He was telling her that he’d like to hear what she sounds like when she moans. Do you think he’s cheating on me?

Me – You need to ask him that. If you can’t trust him. Leave him.

Sigh. Shit like this irks me. Yes, it’s wrong to go through a man’s phone, his emails, his facebook messages, his wallet, his personal belongings. It’s a violation of his privacy, a violation of his trust in you and it’s an insult to yourself, particularly your intelligence.

Clearly, DW is insecure and has trust issues. But I wonder, just how many of us understand this concept of trust. How can you expect a man to be trustworthy if he can’t trust you with his privacy? I believe that trust is a two way thing. You get what you give. If your investments are shitty then expect twice as shitty returns.

Furthermore, such actions make you look desperate and demented. No man can make you feel like you have to reduce yourself to such a disgusting pile of patheticness. You must choose to become that thing. If you can’t trust him, you can’t love him; if you can’t love him then how the hell can you hope to build a lasting relationship with him?

So for all you ladies in that position, stop embarrassing yourself and womankind. Do yourself and the man a favour and just leave. There’s no hope for a lasting union there.

And while you’re at it, learn to love yourself enough to get some help. Become a woman of character, a strong woman who can be trusted and who deserves to be trusted. Who you are will attract the type of man you want.

So remember, trust is a two way thing. Happy hunting!

Sharing a quick moment with you while I’m on the go.
Sara.

Do we fall or grow in love?

Been thinking of a summer romance in the tropics. Been thinking of creating a galaxy for us, a galaxy built with the bricks of English syntax and fortified with the intricacy of meaning, built for me to be forever with you. I wanna be with you more than I’m with me.

But mostly, I’ve been thinking of love and theories of how it happens. Do we fall or grow in love? How does it happen? I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking. How do I imprison the how of love in these bricks of mine? How do I capture perfection with imperfection?

All along I was breathing and then one day you saturated the air around me. You became the oxygen entwined with my blood, rushing through every inch of me, keeping this me alive to be with the me you’ve always known. Now all I breathe is you. That’s how it happened for me.

So you see, it wasn’t a falling or a growing.

Sharing a quick moment with you while I’m on the go.
Sara.

Women, when you show your mid-section on Facebook you’re a dangle…

The infamous photo of my mid-section

The infamous photo of my mid-section

Last night a young woman tried to kill herself because a man dissed her body. This morning I took a picture which exposed my mid-section, the part of my body I’m most uncomfortable with, and I posted it on Facebook. Tonight, I was called a dangle (whore).

What was the point of the picture? I hoped that by being real, by being unafraid to stand in front people as I am, I would encourage young women to do the same; to be comfortable with their bodies. No, I wasn’t telling girls to go dress whorish, take pictures and post it.

I was telling young women that we’re human, that we’re beautiful in our own way, that perfection does not equal beauty. So help spread the word, real women, real bodies.

Sharing a quick moment with you while I’m on the go.
Sara.

Dear Man-Who-Works-With-Hands

Dear Man-Who-Works-With-Hands:

Life only gets harder and time is a wench who tricks us into believing that things will be different as we grow older.

The harder we try to avoid certain outcomes, the more certain is our arrival at that destination. So what’s the secret to happiness?

I’ve found that happiness is as easy as what we choose. Like right now, I’ve chosen to dwell within me where I’m so full of you; where you and I don’t need a conjunction to become apart of a single idea.

So when you’re sad baby, just remember that happiness is a choice we make.

Yours Always,
the Woman-Created-For-Those-Hands-Of-Yours.

Sharing a quick moment with you while I’m on the go.
Sara.