I see that Jamaica's Parliament is looking for a new prayer in order to begin its proceedings. I humbly submit the following, with apologies for any plagiarism taken from Job and David, given the recent intellectual property rights legislation, but these verses may be the most appropriate in the Jamaican context.
Give ear to my plea, O Lord
Hearken to the sound of my cry.
Let me be able to claim the percentage of all successful endeavours, while passing on responsibility for any failures to others less deserving, especially those low down the chain of command.
While King Solomon asked for wisdom, grant me lots of riches and possessions when I gain office, so that if I am in Opposition, I can endure seven years or more of famine.
Let my salary be in a desirable foreign currency (or silver or gold), but not in frankincense and myrrh, since these precious gifts command no respect from Jamaican money-changers.
Let my off-spring be like the grass of the earth, that is, bountiful and fruitful (acknowledge and unacknowledged ones), so that the masses can declare 'breeder' is truly my alias.
Deliver me key votes in any close election, failing any inability to secure a garrison constituency.
Abuse my enemies, discomfit them
Let all who curse politicians be exposed with shame and dishonour, but not to the extent of the Emancipation statues.
Hide me from the scourge of the media, so no tales of infamy can be told, despite any Freedom of Information Act.
Reward me with numerous habitations in Jamaica, New York, Paris, Toronto, and in London. Allow the benevolence of the tax-payers so that I can jet all over the world and attend conferences from Timbukto to Bali, to Basra. But don't allow me to get on any plane that has Al Quaeda suicide martyrs.
Keep all community dons and other parasites away from me, when I have no need for them.
Give me good health, so that I can be found at every major opening of a clinic, or a school, or even better, be around when expensive public-built assets are named after me. The same when national honours are conferred on me.
Fill my mouth with sweet words of comfort, to explain why roads in my constituency are not fixed, or water supplies are only a trickle or powercuts are a plenty.
Let me reap even if I do not toil.
Let me be seen in the latest digi-photo cell-phones, on TV and in newspapers, kissing babies, showing compassion to the families who have lost loved ones by the gun, and promising the gullible a bright future.
Ensure that no criminal charges, traffic offences, and false 'jacket' charges be levied on my exalted person.
Let me live to a ripe old age, able to garner highly-paid consultancies, and receive lucrative inflation indexed pensions, so that my days can be spent in splendour.
Thank thee Lord
