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Thursday, March 27, 2025

Your Sto­ries

Akawaio student in T&T on a mission

by

20160215

Lenin Thomas, 30, is a mem­ber of a unique Amerindi­an tribe liv­ing in a part of Guyana's rain­forests so re­mote it is ac­ces­si­ble on­ly by air­plane.He is al­so a fi­nal year the­ol­o­gy stu­dent at the Uni­ver­si­ty of South­ern Caribbean (USC) in Mara­cas Val­ley, a fair­ly nor­mal achieve­ment for many but a sig­nif­i­cant ac­com­plish­ment for him.

Thomas has sur­vived ma­jor en­vi­ron­men­tal, so­cial, fi­nan­cial, per­son­al bat­tles which threat­ened his very ex­is­tence to make it to uni­ver­si­ty.He comes from the Akawaio tribe of the Mazaruni re­gion on the bor­der be­tween Guyana and Venezuela. There, ea­gles fly over­head, jaguars roam the forests and ana­con­das swim in the rivers and anger and vi­o­lence is cen­sored among the tribe. How­ev­er, the love for gold and di­a­monds, which is abun­dant in Mazaruni, is threat­en­ing the com­plete oblit­er­a­tion of Thomas' vil­lage.

Thomas, son of an Akawaio school­teacher and ed­u­ca­tion of­fi­cer, was one of the more for­tu­nate chil­dren in his tribe, al­though like them he grew up with­out ba­sic ameni­ties like pipe borne wa­ter and elec­tric­i­ty.

As a young man, he bat­tled al­co­hol and sui­cide af­ter his moth­er died and his com­mon-law wife left him with their two chil­dren, all in one month. When he sur­vived that per­son­al war and de­cid­ed to en­rol at USC in Trinidad, Thomas did not have a sin­gle cent.

Now, he is on his way to suc­cess­ful­ly com­plet­ing his de­gree and al­ready con­fi­dent­ly plan­ning to do his Mas­ters."I don't know how," he said.Thomas' mis­sion is to take the knowl­edge he gained to his vil­lage and share it with Akawaio's youth in par­tic­u­lar, many of whom are bright but don't know how to move for­ward.

Re­count­ing his jour­ney, he said the Akawaio has had "some mod­erni­sa­tion" with a gov­ern­ment sta­tion, schools and reg­u­lar air con­tact be­tween the min­ing vil­lage and George­town, Dig­i­cel cell phones and In­ter­net. Tra­di­tion­al thatched-roofed Akawaio hous­es are be­ing re­placed by con­crete ones and vil­lagers own mo­tor­bikes and all ter­rain ve­hi­cles.

But Akawaio women still wash clothes by the riv­er and the men fish with bows and ar­rows, as the tribe has been do­ing for gen­er­a­tions.Thomas said some vil­lagers are now pump­ing wa­ter from wells us­ing so­lar en­er­gy and al­most every­one has a gen­er­a­tor for elec­tric­i­ty.He said a spe­cial time in the vil­lage for him is when all gen­er­a­tors are off at night and he sits on the bare earth gaz­ing at mil­lions of stars in the dark sky.

"It's cold and silent and re­al­ly beau­ti­ful. When you wake up in the morn­ing, it's all misty."Thomas' tribe and oth­ers near­by protest­ed the build­ing of a hy­draulic dam to pro­vide en­er­gy for min­ers that would have com­plete­ly in­un­dat­ed their vil­lage. That mat­ter is in court.Min­ing has brought dai­ly flights be­tween George­town and Mazaruni but the Akawaio still re­main large­ly iso­lat­ed.

"The flight costs about $700 one way. Be­cause of this, the ma­jor­i­ty of vil­lagers don't get to come out," he said.

The Akawaio are near­ly self suf­fi­cient, Thomas re­vealed: "We plant red beans, black-eyed peas, onions, peanuts, cas­sa­va, plan­tains and hunt and fish. The on­ly thing we bring in from the city (George­town) is flour, rice, oil, salt."

Women make cot­ton. Up un­til sev­en or eight years ago they wore tra­di­tion­al bead­ed skirts and the men wore aprons.Akawaio young men, like Alvern Austin who got 11 pass­es in the Caribbean Sec­ondary Ed­u­ca­tion Cer­tifi­cate (CSEC), rarely leave the vil­lage to fur­ther their ed­u­ca­tion.

"It's re­al­ly dif­fi­cult to get out. Many have no rel­a­tives out­side and nowhere to stay if they want to fur­ther their ed­u­ca­tion," Thomas said.

Thomas near­ly didn't get out.

"When my moth­er died and my com­mon-law wife left me with our chil­dren, I be­came de­pressed and sui­ci­dal. I was drink­ing a lot," he said.

He was teach­ing bi­ol­o­gy at the Akawaio's sec­ondary school on a teacher's train­ing cer­tifi­cate, at the time. But Thomas met mis­sion­ar­ies and he got bap­tised and went to George­town and taught for five years.He set his heart on do­ing the­ol­o­gy but it was not be­ing of­fered at George­town's uni­ver­si­ty.

"A friend told me about USC and I came to Trinidad and en­rolled. I did not have mon­ey to pay for tu­ition but USC al­lowed me study for a whole se­mes­ter with­out pay­ing, stay in the dorm and have two meals a day. God has been good to me."

Thomas even­tu­al­ly got a loan and, with part time work, was able to pay for his ed­u­ca­tion.When he's done with ed­u­ca­tion, Thomas plans to go back to his Akawaio vil­lage.

"The air is clean­er up there," he said.


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