Dr Rad­i­ca Ma­hase

Dear Moth­er Trinidad

and To­ba­go,

May the steel­pan play and the tas­sa drum re­sound,

From every cor­ner, let joy

and pride abound.

Uni­ty in his­to­ry, cul­ture

and play,

Guid­ing our fu­ture

in a hope­ful way.

Six­ty-three years of

courage and cheer,

Ho­n­our­ing the

past, em­brac­ing the near.

To­geth­er we

rise, to­geth­er we stay,

Hap­py 63rd In­de­pen­dence Day.

On Fri­day, Au­gust 31, 1962, you tran­si­tioned from a tiny and prob­a­bly ir­rel­e­vant frag­ment of the British Em­pire in­to an in­de­pen­dent na­tion filled with a vi­sion. It was a mas­sive ac­com­plish­ment for a small coun­try. You were cel­e­brat­ed in speech­es and ral­lies and giv­en the sym­bols of na­tion­hood—the flag, coat of arms, watch­words and an an­them. It was your deep­est mo­ment of glo­ry, a de­c­la­ra­tion that you were shed­ding the ves­tiges of colo­nial­ism and look­ing for­ward to mak­ing your own de­ci­sions. A new na­tion was born!

For the past 63 years, you have grown and tak­en your place in the world. For a tiny is­land, you have in­sist­ed that the world pay at­ten­tion to you.

Your sportsper­sons can hold their own in in­ter­na­tion­al com­pe­ti­tions. Hase­ly Craw­ford, Bri­an Lara, Dwight Yorke, Kel­ly-Ann Bap­tiste, Anisa Mo­hammed, Keshorn Wal­cott and George Bovell III are just some of our great sportsper­sons who in­spire younger gen­er­a­tions. They rep­re­sent our na­tion with in­tegri­ty and pride.

Your schol­ars dis­tin­guish them­selves amongst the more in­tel­li­gent and ac­com­plished in the world.

Dr Joe­sph Lennox Pawn showed the world that bats were spread­ing ra­bies to hu­mans. Dr Rudranath Capildeo’s work on vec­tor al­ge­bra and me­chan­ics is still rel­e­vant to­day and VS Naipaul’s writ­ings con­tin­ue to in­flu­ence ex­plo­rations of colo­nial­ism and iden­ti­ty.

CLR James and Dr Er­ic Williams have writ­ten his­to­ry and made his­to­ry.

They, and oth­ers, have shown the world that ex­cel­lence can come from even small na­tions.

Through­out the world, peo­ple move to the beat of so­ca and chut­ney. Ah, the steel­pan—from the hills of Laven­tille to world stages, noth­ing can ri­val its rhythm and in­ge­nu­ity. Dou­bles and tas­sa iden­ti­fy you. Your Trin­bag­on­ian di­as­po­ra clings to your food, mu­sic and dance, the foun­da­tion of their iden­ti­ty. They can­not stay away from you! You stand proud and re­silient in a world where democ­ra­cy is of­ten threat­ened, where neo-colo­nial­ism is a re­al­i­ty and where small na­tions are viewed as ir­rel­e­vant.

You have al­so been faced with many chal­lenges. As the na­tion took shape, politi­cians aligned their iden­ti­ties with race and eth­nic­i­ty.

Com­pe­ti­tion for pow­er in­sti­gat­ed and drew its strength from the con­cept of “us ver­sus them,” re­sult­ing in more vis­i­ble forms of racism.

To­day, your chil­dren are di­vid­ed – In­do-Trin­bag­o­ni­ans and Afro-Trin­bag­o­ni­ans. Dr Er­ic Williams’ call to on­ly recog­nise “Moth­er Trinidad and To­ba­go” has gone un­heed­ed as the two dom­i­nant races fight for pow­er. Many de­clare their al­le­giance, but through their ac­tions, they dis­cred­it the na­tion.

Pow­er and self-ful­fil­ment have dom­i­nat­ed the na­tion­al land­scape since the be­gin­ning of the twen­ty-first cen­tu­ry.

In more re­cent times, crim­i­nals roam the na­tion ter­ror­is­ing law-abid­ing cit­i­zens. The na­tion can­not progress un­til they are reined in and pros­e­cut­ed. In com­mu­ni­ties where gang and crim­i­nal ac­tiv­i­ties dom­i­nate, your law-abid­ing cit­i­zens are forced to take shel­ter from the bul­lets. Younger gen­er­a­tions are leav­ing or want to leave.

Chil­dren are grow­ing up with­out par­ents be­cause of mur­der, fa­tal road ac­ci­dents and sui­cide. Some of your chil­dren are treat­ed as sec­ond-class cit­i­zens. They are de­nied equal ac­cess to op­por­tu­ni­ties, dis­crim­i­nat­ed against and made to feel in­fe­ri­or.

Cel­e­brat­ing your 63rd an­niver­sary means re­joic­ing in the ac­com­plish­ments over the years, but al­so recog­nis­ing what needs to be done for fu­ture progress. It means cre­at­ing a na­tion where every sin­gle per­son feels a deep sense of pride, where our lead­ers will put you first and col­lab­o­rate for the greater good of the na­tion, and where all cit­i­zens feel val­ued.

It means that when our chil­dren go abroad to study, they will want to come back home be­cause of the deep sense of be­long­ing and de­sire to serve the na­tion. It means that na­tion­al iden­ti­ty ei­ther su­per­sedes or ex­ists hand in hand with all oth­er iden­ti­ties.

The hope that was felt on Fri­day, Au­gust 31, 1962, may have di­min­ished but it has not dis­ap­peared. As you cel­e­brate 63 years, may your chil­dren tru­ly un­der­stand the mean­ing of “To­geth­er we as­pire, to­geth­er we achieve.”

More im­por­tant­ly, may they live by these words, be­cause a frag­ment­ed na­tion will strug­gle to achieve its vi­sion. Sim­i­lar­ly, may the words of our Na­tion­al An­them, “Here every creed and race finds an equal place”, be­come a re­al­i­ty so that every sin­gle one of your chil­dren will be treat­ed fair­ly and equal­ly and will be proud to be Trin­bag­on­ian.

May your lead­ers tru­ly un­der­stand the vi­sion of in­de­pen­dence and do every­thing in their pow­er to pro­tect our democ­ra­cy.

May the youths un­der­stand that in­de­pen­dence is much more than just a his­tor­i­cal event; that it is the ba­sis of their Trin­bag­on­ian iden­ti­ty.

May we con­tin­ue to val­ue you, serve your in­ter­ests and work to­geth­er to make you stronger.

There is on­ly one moth­er, Moth­er Trinidad and To­ba­go.