Violence and the state of African Guyanese
An address given by Nigel Hughes
Every year on August first, millions across the world pause to reflect on the most horrific crime to have plagued humanity – that is slavery. Quite rightly, after casting our minds back to the horror, barbarism and murder of hundreds of thousands of African men and women who were forcefully dragged from their homes and sold into a life of slavery, we look deep down inside, trying hard to move beyond the pain of this tragedy to try and celebrate “Emancipation”.
In Guyana, the African slaves were emancipated in 1838, and after more than one hundred years of “freedom” we pause this time to reflect on the state of African Guyanese, and if and how we have built on the legacy that our forefathers left us after walking off the plantations and with pride, “buying” vast expanses of land with funds saved while enslaved.
But regrettably, most would agree that as a people we have failed to build on the legacy left to us, and violence and the collapse of our African families seem to be the order of the day.
The root causes of violence in African Guyanese communities and violence inflicted upon the community must begin with a look at the state of the African Guyanese community, whether urban or rural, and how much the state of our families has led or contributed to violence within the community.
I propose to be candid in my views, perhaps at the pain of being further maligned in the press, and I ask that you forgive my candour where it may cause you discomfort, but I also hope to propose a road map which I hope we may wish to discuss in the immediate future.
It is now an accepted fact that the African Guyanese family is in grave crisis. The number of homes which are single parent-led – where the sole parent is forced to be absent from the home for economic reasons – is staggering. This is compounded by the fact that ninety-five per cent of these homes are female-led, with a significant number of these units being led by our sisters employed in the security industry.
This state of African family is further challenged by the fact that the “extended family”, which was a critical feature of “African communities” up to the early seventies, has now either evaporated and/or is not available as a result of several factors, including migration, and a lack of financial resources to be able to take care of an extended family. This is the backdrop in which we must address violence in our community.
What is the face of violence and crime in our community and society? This is a question that we avoid answering. The reality is that the perceived face of crime and violence in our communities is black, young and invariably male. The only thing worse than the effect of senseless, black-on-black violence and crime, is the silence which allows it to continue.
The reality of black-on-black violence in our communities, whether in a domestic setting, whether between the community members or whether inflicted by the police on members of the community, is that invariably the face of that violence is black.
We have ducked, dodged, avoided and refused to address this truth. We have developed a collective numbness to black-on-black violence and to black violence and killings. How can we ever hope to address the issue of security and stability in our communities if we refuse to acknowledge the perceived face of the violence is black?
The reality is the identities of the policemen who shot and killed the Linden three, the policemen who shot and killed an Agricola youth, the police men who shot and killed the young man outside of the fish shop, the persons accused of the Bartica, Lusignan and Lindo Creek murders, the female army officer charged with the murder of her rival, the policemen who shot and killed the three Albouystown youth on South Road, the persons who probably killed – not paid for or organized the killing of – the 400-plus young African males, were probably black males.
Isn’t it interesting in Guyana that invariably the persons who are hired to kill African Guyanese are African Guyanese, but the money which hires them rarely ever is. We have a sub-culture of young black men pretending to be men by killing each other.
Isn’t it ironic that the only time we seem to muster a collective murmur in response to the fact that the face of this violence is black is when the Government says that the killings are political, as in the case of Buxton and Lusignan, then we somehow summon the courage to deny the politics, but not the identity.
We have to accept that this problem is a black problem and we are the primary persons responsible for addressing this problem. But we also have to acknowledge that even though it’s an African Guyanese problem, it is also a national problem which requires the allocation of national resources to address.
We have a tendency in the African Guyanese community not to want to identify our problems as African Guyanese problems, and consequently request that they be placed on the national agenda, for fear that we may be accused of being racist or pursuing a racial agenda.
A nation state is only as strong as the sum total of its constituent parts, and if things are not right in a part of the nation state, then the things cannot be right in the State.
This applies to every community in the country. If there are problems which are peculiar to a particular community which have adversely impacted upon that community then it’s not just a problem of that community, it’s a national problem.
Note: Next week I continue my examination of these issues and suggest solutions we can implement.