On December 17, in this space, I described what I
considered to be the so-called “big and little” things of public life in
T&T.
Among the several phenomena mentioned, when referencing
the “little” things, was the absurd prevalence of potholes and disfigured
roadways – both major and minor – all over the country.
I described the “beauty” of a hole near T&TEC
along the Eastern Main Road in Curepe and jokingly noted its proximity to a
tyre shop and three places of worship.
Four days later, a male pedestrian died when a car,
presumed to have swerved to avoid that very pothole, struck him, narrowly
missed a nearby metal bridge, and landed in the river some seven or eight
metres below.
The last time I checked, the “complex” pothole - comprising
a jagged, narrow horizontal strip and an adjoining axle-breaking crater was
still there.
Nobody appears to have made a big, public fuss over
what happened. The victim was described in news reporting as being “homeless,”
and since the occupants of the car appeared to have received
non-life-threatening injuries, there has been little follow-up – at least none
that I have seen.
Both T&TEC and the tyre shop are back in action,
road users who know the spot do a quick left and sharp right to escape; while
others unfamiliar with the area painfully deal with damaged rims, tyres, and
suspension systems.
The point here is that, in this instance, the penalty
paid for what is at least state neglect was someone’s death. Speeding has not (yet)
been proven - which would have, at minimum, introduced a notion of contributory
negligence. Even so, should the penalty for speeding be someone’s death, if not
yours?
The fact is that paying with one’s life has become,
far too routinely, a grim feature of existence in a society that loudly
proclaims the sanctity and preciousness of life – at least rhetorically.
An opinion poll would most likely show, for instance,
that most of us approve of the continued presence of the death penalty on the statute
books and that many would prefer to just kill “them” all … violently. This is
especially so during this violent period when revenge is so frequently inter-changeable
with a notion of “justice.”
It does not matter that shortcomings in the areas of policing,
prosecutions, and prompt judicial action persist, and the potential for loss of
innocent life - an accused in this instance - exists.
People here, by and large, believe that if you are adjudged
to have taken someone’s life you should die. But even that is not the end of
it.
For, simultaneously - and judging from public
commentary on recent legislation introduced and passed - a penalty of death is
also desirable even when all juridical and humane pre-requisites have not been
satisfied.
For example, pair the eager passage of (largely
misconstrued) “stand your ground” legislation with an expanded, voracious
appetite for more readily available firearms and see what I mean.
Whatever the requirements of proportionality, the
potential for violent escalation, and the absence of safeguards against deadly
outcomes, there is a recognisable thirst for both tried and untried criminal
blood. Intruders, you see, need to be killed.
It’s approximately the same mindset when it comes to
people, including our own, in pirogues out at sea unilaterally declared to be
engaged in criminal activity. Guilty or not, a penalty of death appears to be
quite acceptable.
In such instances, insisting on any semblance of due
process is certainly not a mere symptom of uninformed, partisan haste or irrational
“angst.” In fact, a predisposition to question and to condemn such actions may
well be a rare redeeming quality of the current period.
Meanwhile, from the same sacred platforms from which
such angst is being noted there has been scarce mention of the fact that the
penalty for being a baby or young child in Gaza has, for the past two years,
been death by violence – all 21,000 of them (including 1,000 babies under the
age of 1).
Okay, there is some disagreement over the numbers. So,
let’s say, hypothetically, a single baby has been murdered (and not the 1,000
as claimed) without remorseful mention … even as we honour the birth of another,
where does that leave us?
Could it be that a penalty of death is not as undesirable
as we so often claim? That life, once it’s not ours, is an expendable
commodity. It is a sorry condition to contemplate.
Happy New Year.
