There used to be a pothole in St Augustine that stayed there so long—spanning political administrations both at the local and central government levels—that I eventually assigned it a name. I remember the moment. Barry White was playing on my USB at the time.
When the left front wheel hit “Barry”, the music skipped dramatically to Earth, Wind and Fire. Years later, “Barry” was gratuitously packed with asphalt and pebbles and stood out like a disfiguring facial mole for months. It was, for all intents and purposes, “repaired”—together with numerous rims, front ends, and shocks.
It reminded me of the time my then recently-licensed son was driving us east along the Churchill-Roosevelt Highway—arguably the busiest roadway in the country—near Aranguez.
It was the time of “the greatest ever minister of works.” Inexpert car handling however has a way of seeking out the potholes of charlatans. My lower back reminded me for some time after, that they don’t teach wheel-changing at driving lessons. Both tyre and rim had to be replaced.
Everybody, I am sure, has a pothole story or two or three. A situation in which a minor flaw in a roadway turns, through regular everyday use and our habit of negligent neglect, into a gaping chasm of wheel and suspension destruction and human distress.
Last week, for example, at Wallerfield, an entire car was devoured by what had apparently evolved from minor to major—following the cycle of road depression-to-pothole-to-human depression. GML’s Shastri Boodan had by then taken pictures of “The Mother of all Potholes’ at Camden Road in Couva. At some point, the negligence comes back to bite you on the ankle. It’s like what’s happening up on the increasingly inaccessible Cumberland Hill these days. Getting up there in anything less than the usual transport reserved for technical equipment and fuel tells you nothing about the true situation.
The name, “Cumberland,” rings a bell? If not, it’s mentioned at paragraph 8.326 on page 982 of the “Report of the Commission of Enquiry Appointed to Enquire into the Events Surrounding the Attempted Coup D’état of 27th July 1990.”
In those lines that immortalise the role of my former media colleague, Bernard Pantin, the importance of Cumberland Hill is made clear in ways even some of us in the media business did not quite realise at that time.
Bernard’s enterprising intervention was no photo-op by an opportunistic politician with, at minimum, joint responsibility for the current state of affairs up the hill. But it was a rescue mission that recognised the exceptional importance of the facilities at Cumberland Hill—not only to most broadcasters but to national security.
If anything, especially following that defining moment of 1990, Cumberland Hill ought to have become one of the most secure pieces of territory in the country. Instead, what do we find in this home of negligent neglect?
The T&T Publishers and Broadcasters Association (TTPBA) along with senior security officials and other key stakeholders such as the Telecoms Authority (TATT) have long been expressing concern not only about the deteriorating state of the road leading to their facilities, but also overgrown bushes, squatters, and the absence of appropriate security arrangements.
No rocket science is necessary and even some political points can be earned from a proper response. It’s almost all there in the TTPBA’s 13-point missive of October 2015. Numerous expressions of concern also pre-date that important submission. Effective action ought to have included withdrawing responsibility for the site from a lethargic Diego Martin Regional Corporation and placing it in the hands of national security agencies.
It is, in that light, amazing that last weekend’s face-saving political excursion did not include the national security minister and simply focused, from all reports, on the facilities of just one (the state broadcaster TTT) of close to 20 concerned parties, including the security forces. Hopefully, given Minister De Nobriga’s longstanding responsibility (having previously served as chairman of the relevant regional corporation) he took the opportunity to reinforce serious previously held concern, that has unfortunately not been converted into action.
This one is much more than “Barry” or Wallerfield or Camden Road. It’s a national catastrophe waiting to happen. This is no ordinary rim-crunching pothole. If there is one challenge of this kind not made for habitual neglect, it is this.