Hartley Neita

Children begin to gamble at an early age. Go to most homes in Jamaica and you will find games of Snakes and Ladders and Monopoly and the symbolic gambling dice, and which are played regularly by the family.

Monopoly is the worse of the two evils. It teaches us to be acquisitive, to amass property with the throw of the dice, albeit temporarily. But it is the pleasure of owning houses, railways, factories, even though brief, which makes the game attractive. It is wealth creation as one banker says very often. It feels good. Yes, you can lose it all at the next throw of the dice, but the attraction is that if the good luck fairy smiles seductively you can become a millionaire once again.

The first time I was introduced to real gambling was by some friends at school whose parents either owned horses, were trainers, and/or knew the jockeys who rode the horses at Knutsford Park now replaced by New Kingston. They inveigled me to accompany them to the track one Saturday

Their parents had given them money to test Lady Luck, and punters who were their family friends whispered winners in their ears as we arrived. While they went into the stands, I remained on the grounds. Bored. Every 30 minutes or so, I saw horses pounding the track, heard the screams around me and saw my friends flashing their fingers to urge their favourite horses to win. At the end of the day, we returned to our school where we boarded and they were as broke as I had been all day. I have never been to a racetrack since.

A few years later, a friend persuaded me to buy a chance with the Peaka Peow. Reluctantly, I spent one shilling. I won one pound and 30 shillings. This was wealth creation. My friend - who had lost his shilling - convinced me that I had the gambler's touch. He insisted I should bet the entire winnings in the Peaka Peow draw that afternoon. Poof! My money disappeared in the deep pocket of a Chinaman. I never bought Peaka Peow again.

losing thousands

In recent years, I have bought one ticket in the Lotto whenever the prize money is more than 10 million dollars. While waiting my turn, I have seen men buying scores of tickets. They never seem to win as I see them the next time buying more scores. I lose 30 dollars on each flutter. They lose thousands.

Life itself is a gamble. Do good things and you are rewarded by going upstairs. Do bad things and you go to the basement, unless you are forgiven. Many therefore take a chance and do bad things which are fun things, and hope their prayers for forgiveness are answered and that the milk and honey up there are the chasers for rum, gin, vodka and whisky.

Friends have been trying to persuade me to join them in investing in one or another of the variou financial ventures. They tell me they have purchased a house and a new car, and went to one of the New Year's Eve balls last week. They have not shown me the house or the car, and I have not yet seen their photographs on pages two of our newspapers.

In the meanwhile, the Govern-ment gives these schemes a gentle flap and a pat and a temporary bligh until they seek legality.

Meanwhile, every time I am offered the goodies which can be mine, I remember my first visit to the races when my friends flush with cash in the morning, ended the day flat broke, and my first investment in Peaka Peow when luck abandoned me after the first flutter of joy. And while my friends are happy just buying a house and a car, I see the management of one of these schemes buying hotels and properties.

Maybe next new year I will be favoured with a complimentary table at a hotel and I can dance the night away and eat and drink to my heart's content.