In the more than seven decades I’ve been alive, few people have made an impression on my mind to match Raschid Osman; his memory lingers.…It’s that intrinsic sense of aesthetics he possessed; his quiet dignity and facility being an exemplar of the mantra advocated by Max Erhmann in his Desiderata poem –
“Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others…”
Raschid Osman was a civilized gentleman. When we talked on the telephone, he’d encouraged me to write for The Chronicle; why would I want to write for that dishonest rag that nobody buys, I asked him and incredibly, Raschid Osman responded: “I don’t blame you.”
With the advent of a Coalition for National Unity Government, life in Guyana and The Chronicle have been restored to an acceptable state. Last time I saw him briefly after thirty years or so, was at a Roy Brummell book launching last Monday at Moray House; he looked frail. I mentioned that Godfrey Wray had suggested he should interview me for the paper but he didn’t seem to be aware of this till I got this E-mail from him. I quote; “Just got the great news that you are considering doing some writing for us.  It’s an exciting thought. It would be a good idea for me to do a piece on you to sort of introduce you to our readers. Even if you don’t agree to write for us, I am still keen on doing a story on you. I remember you as one of the most exciting woman editors ever.”
I wanted to tell Raschid that anytime he choose  to call me “…midnight, backdam self – anywhere” I will answer the opportunity to sit down with him and recall that euphoric time; rewind with him and review the idyll of those years we shared at the Guyana Graphic with Godfrey Wray and Eleazer Watson, Montague Smith and Carl Blackman, Sybille Hart, Frank Campbell, Rickey Singh, Hubert Williams, Winston Oudkerk, Donald Periana, Duke Lambert and many more; some still with us, others whom  you’ve transitioned to join in the realm of ancestors; to celebrate the way we were.
Wish I could have told him this; I meant to say it to him on Monday or Tuesday when we met for that interview; but alas, death cancels all engagements.  However, thankfully, memory lives on in infinity. Rashid Osman’s brilliant, beautiful mind was marinated in the music he loved and shared with us in his inspirational ‘Mid-morning Classics’ on the radio. I’m happy to hear the program has been resuscitated.
Rest placidly as was your wont, my brother.
 Joan Cambridge

[KAIETEUR NEWS, NOV 22]

RIP to a stalwart

Gil, care to share you memory of Rashid ? 

Me know of a neutral group that meet on Saturdays for the past 30 years to play cards/dominoes. They bond and support each other.

Was/is there also  a bond among journalist in GY, who come under one neutral umbrella to shoot the breeze, wid a drink or two ?    

Raschid was 14 years my senior. I first met him around 1981 when I was 30 and he was 44. Just respectful talk. Yes, journalists met at receptions and bars for drinks. Chronicle had a sports club where its own reporters hang out. I didn't mix with a steady group. My last session happened in late 1995 after a Guyana Press Association AGM at the Chronicle Sports Club. Bert Wilkinson invited some of us to his home in Queenstown: myself, InfoMin Moses, Sharief Khan, St Lucian Earl Bousquet and a few others. After that we drove to a bar at Ogle Airport  and Sharief cussed me because I smoked 2 of his cigarettes. Something like: "Wait wait wait, yuh gon done de f__ing pack now?"

Thanks.

There is a guy name Neck, who smoked like a chimney, but was always broke to buy his own cigarettes.  He borrowed so many, he might have to sell his house to pay back.

Me see dis adda group bond with cut-up green mango, pepper and salt.

Cool-aid and lollipops.

Its humerous watching dem play and joke together, yet they are all highly professional people.

I guess it helps to be silly with friends at times.

Been busy documenting hundreds of 120 B&W from the 60s for publication, its getting to feel more of a responsibility and panicking for time, due to health issues.     

Name a street after him.

I agree...Tola Avenue

Oh no, we gonna rock down to Tola Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh we gonna rock down to Tola Avenue
And then we'll take it higher