I speak like a white girl. I’m sorry. My 1+decade of living in the Great White North has resulted in this and I just can’t help that my tongue feels most comfortable in this accent. Sometime’s I evolve and melt into a weird transition accent, at which I almost always receive some feedback on my “imitation” and in being made consciously aware of my mouth forming words, fall back into my white girl speak.
But all in all. I’ze a Trini. In my blood, in my heart, and in my soul, I am a Trinidadian. I make no apologies, and if and when you ask me I will always give you this answer. I returned here because when I was away I felt as though I was biding time…waiting until I could come home.
Now I am home. And I am constantly being asked in a curious way why I have not left yet. I assume this is because people find it hard to imagine why I would choose to come back. To stay here. Amidst the breakdown of a nation.
But at the end of the day where else ah go go? I’ze a Trini. This is my home. I love it as it is.
But I refuse to accept it as it is.
I am privileged. I have the option to leave and run away somewhere safe.
But that somewhere safe isn’t with my own people. Isn’t on my own Mayaro beach where I spent endless weekends soaking up sun and salt as a child, and where my son now does the same. Isn’t my own sweet Soca music. Isn’t my own doubles with slight.
Our current is heartbreaking. Men, women, children, elderly, just about everybody being shot down, beaten down, raped, and broken day in and day out. Our government (yes one government, because dem two parties is in de same game…stop being fooled) is taking advantage of a passive people, and people are taking advantage of a passive justice system. My heart breaks because I’ze a Trini.
Trinidadians I am calling you out. I am calling us out. We are too passive. We have let this go on far too long.
We have two extremes. We sit down and say this country is the worst; it backward, it too far gone. We sit down and say Trinidad too sweet; where else yuh go find sweet woman like this, food like this, Soca and Carnival like this?
But whatever we’re saying, we are always sitting down. Yuh legs break?
Or maybe your heart is broken like mine and it makes you feel tired and weary and incapable of changing something that’s “too far gone”.
Stand up Trinidad. I’ze a Trini. You’ze a Trini.
Ah blasted fed up.