Let me confess that during the pandemic lockdown regular Facebook posts from a Zoological Officer of the Emperor Valley Zoo helped me (and I am sure thousands more) maintain a relatively high level of emotional stability.
I am not going to call the young officer’s
name (which you may already know) since it would be unfair to drag her further
into a discussion on the latest, absurd instance in which our well-documented “culture
of secrecy” has been on stark public display.
The fact is that during the pandemic lockdown
the Emperor Valley Zoo decided to open its gates virtually to us through a
series of delightful social media dispatches exhibiting a high level of attention,
compassion, and rapport between a competent zookeeper and the animals in her
care.
Then, sometime later, came Jack the
kangaroo, public speculation surrounding his health through media reporting and,
latterly, the diligent work of Newsday reporter, Narissa Fraser.
Here, unlike so many other news stories
with grand revelations, we aren’t dealing with developments that emerged from
the dark, sinister shadows of secret underworld transactions. Concern was
already in the public domain, and without visible objection from anyone, that something
was wrong with Kangaroo Jack.
Back in March, the agriculture minister
even launched an investigation into the condition of the animal.
If anything, the ongoing public saga of Kangaroo
Jack offered us an insight into our humane instincts as people – whatever the
justifiable ambivalence over zoos.
This was no ordinary zoo story. For
example, I cannot say that too many visitors can name any of the four other
kangaroos at the zoo that reached there about three years before Jack.
Maybe, maybe not. But I remember visiting
with young Reign from Guyana in 2022 and we experimented with makeup names for
all the animals.
I also don’t think it should be incumbent
on any zoo to issue death announcements upon the passing of any snake, monkey,
manicou, or turtle (though it has happened in the past!). But then there was
Jack – the subject of curious social and mainstream media attention.
Sure, there are perhaps more important
things to gripe about, but I think this case points us in the direction of an
overall malaise that plagues our country, and for certain, the rest of our
region. This isn’t just about a kangaroo.
So persistent has been the ready resort to
secrecy in official circles, that some of us in the field of journalism have
fixed activist eyes on the requirements of freer access to information held in
trust by public agencies.
To locate the role of the Zoological
Society in all this we may choose to look at the 2018 judgment of Justice Frank
Seepersad in which it is concluded that “the ZSTT (Zoological Society) is a
public body within the meaning of the (Freedom of Information) Act ...”
The Zoo is owned, operated, and managed by
the Zoological Society of T&T (ZSTT) –incorporated by statute in 1952 and
reportable to the Statutory Authorities Service Commission. A little over $5
million was allocated to ZSTT for 2024 by the state via the Ministry of
Agriculture, Land, and Fisheries.
The ZSTT is also under the purview of the
Office of Procurement Regulation and its annual administrative reports are
required to be tabled in parliament.
It thus appears that in many respects, the
Society has transparency obligations under the law. At the very least there is general
public accountability even when, let’s say, the condition of an animal has
captured our imaginations.
There are, of course, procedural issues associated
with the FOI Act that can extend beyond mere questioning by an enterprising
reporter on the health status of an animal.
But should we really have to go this far? A
reporter asked a simple question: Whatever happened to Kangaroo Jack? Phone
calls remained unanswered. People could not be located.
It is appalling that the Society should
have disclosed what appear to be straightforward, apparently non-controversial medical
facts about the demise of Kangaroo Jack only after being pressed to do so by an
enterprising reporter and in the face of accompanying public concern.
It is sad that so many of us are shrugging
this off as another mere example of our “culture of secrecy” - noted by
researchers on a Media Institute of the Caribbean (MIC) study as being
pervasive throughout our region.
Until we aggressively address this through
all available means, including employment of enlightened political will, Kangaroo
Jack can easily become Citizen Jill.
