WITH ALL the talk about finding solutions for crime in Jamaica, one peculiar recommendation, from the National Committee on Crime and Violence Findings (2001), that is interesting, is the need for job descriptions for parliamentarians (No.14 b.). "Is so I get it, is so I give it".
Without job descriptions in place, it is no wonder that so many of our Members of Parliament, turn up as missing persons in their constituents, prior to being elected. Hopefully, the following should help.
One must first learn the art of drumming. It gives you a chance to get in touch with your African ancestors (even if they are Chinese, Caucasian or any other race, since many of Jamaican forebears were touched by plantation slave master sexual relations, or all races originated from Africa anyway). Drumming will serve you in good stead, during Budget time, to beat your desk in support of your side's speaker.
One must also acquire dark glasses so that it cannot be detected when you are sleeping during Parliamentary meetings, should TV cameras be present or some inquisitive media person happens to be gazing too keenly at you.
One must also learn the fine art of debating. Lawyers are especially welcome in the chamber, since they know very well how to argue for hours without saying anything tangible. Expertise in this area can be acquired by listening to travelling bus preachers; fellows trying to attract girls who walk by street corners; workers who habitually reach work late and have all kinds of excuses why; and by watching career politicians explain away, why garrison protectors are merely modern day Robin-Hoods and community mobilisers.
One must learn how to delegate constituency tasks to others. Note, I did not say do key tasks but how to delegate it. This means it becomes easier to explain any inaction on your part, by saying that you had given orders for it to be done but your subordinates failed to carry out said tasks. If it demotivates the subordinates around you, learn to rotate such subordinates at regular intervals to avoid establishing a set hierarchy, so different persons can be blamed, and, of even more importance, no one stays long enough as your deputy so that they believe that they could replace you as MP (is so them stay, grudgeful and envious).
If you have pretensions on becoming a Minister in the future, try to dress the part in requisite sartorial elegance. If you would like to become the Minister of National Security, start dressing up in camouflage wear and bullet-proof vest (that is also quite useful for when missiles fly outside Gordon House). If you have aspirations to become the Minister of Tourism, start to wear shorts and colourful shirts at various functions. Learning how to soca is also good training for Carnival time. If you have aspirations to be the Minister of Finance, you should start walking around with a black briefcase, even if you do not put anything inside it besides your diary. If the ambition is to become the Minister of Health however, carry a stethoscope so that you are not mistaken for the Minister of Finance.
Last, but not least, thoroughly peruse the attendance rules, so that you can avoid having your pay suspended for missing consecutive sittings; or so that you can learn how to be present at the start of proceedings, to ensure that your name is down as making up the quorum, before disappearing to other parts of the House to enjoy libations and solitude, and do your private business.
With all of these functions learnt, you can be an MP (which one is up to you) for a very long time.
