The PM and hopelessness

THE EDITOR, Madam:

THIS IS a letter to the Prime Minister.

DEAR SIR,

I am old enough to have seen better times in this little island of ours, but I have never seen harder times. Everybody is talking about crime, I am not one to jump on that bandwagon. My concern is, how does it feel to be the leader of a country with so much corruption, dishonesty in Government Departments and just plain "everybody is doing it so why not me"?

I am a skilled person, yet I do not have a job, and if I should go to the political representative I am told "we don't have any money to do anything", yet the person's family is the contractor, owns the equipment, and directs the work and the only job they can offer me is carry stones for river training or spread marl.

There are so many people out of jobs and the only thing to do is to sell something. We all cannot be sellers, who is going to buy? Speaking of selling, are you aware that when the higgler comes to buy they purchase 140 pounds of yams and pay the farmer for only 100 pounds because the people at the market have to get their little cut. Talk about corruption? Yet there is no one to talk about it for fear of their lives. Things like these make me wonder, how do you feel?

My personal feeling is that I would feel ashamed to know that my country is among the leaders in the world where murders, praedial larceny, and anything dishonest is the way of life. Sir, if I planted a breadfruit tree 10 years ago and it did not bear fruit by this time I would cut it down, yet you say you want another term.

Sir, we cannot borrow our troubles away, we have to work our troubles away and the present climate in Jamaica is not conducive for the people to do so. Companies are downsizing. Sugar has lost its sweetness, bauxite its sting, bananas its flavour, tourism its attraction, rum its strength, and let's not forget manufacturing: its appeal. Your Minister of Technology has promised jobs in years to come; so what do we do until then? What happens in the near future? I guess we starve or die waiting?

I am, etc.,

PAUL BAXTER,

Runaway Bay,

St. Ann

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