Following the shooting of 15 people at a party in Montel Heights where the intended target ran into the crowd, the Commissioner of Police said: “I feel safe and I think you feel safe.” This is a puzzling statement, particularly given the incident being discussed.
How did he arrive at the conclusion that we feel safe? We have been expected to believe that criminals are killing each other, and as long as the rest of us keep our hands clean and away from bad company, we will be fine. Unfortunately, that is not the way crime works. Sometimes innocent people are hurt, whether or not it is intentional. What are we going to do about that?
The Commissioner of Police and the Minister of National Security said the shooters did not plan to shoot multiple people. This suggests the other 14 people were simply collateral damage, so we should all feel safe, right?
We have been further warned by the Commissioner to watch the company we keep, all while being encouraged to go about our “normal daily business”. The intended target ran into a crowd, resulting in multiple people being shot, but watching the company we keep will protect us? How can we read about people enjoying themselves at a party in one moment, and being on the ground with gunshot wounds in the next, yet believe that we are safe?
None of us are safe from a stray bullet if we ever dare to step outside.
We do not want to create a society in which people are unable to go anywhere or do anything because they fear an untimely death by a semi-automatic weapon, whether because someone wants the contents of their bags and pockets, or because they are in the vicinity of a target. We like to believe we are immune because we are good people, our family members and friends are good people, we live in good areas or in close-knit communities and we imagine we know exactly what to do if approached by a criminal. That is what we think until we hear about people at a party being shot, unable to make sense of it.
The truth is we are particularly vulnerable in certain settings. We cannot predict what will happen. We tend to assume, in many cases, we will be safe. We go about our daily business – and for some of us that includes particular precautions – without expecting harm to come to us. Even as we go on as usual, we remember what happened on the weekend. The victims were are at a party, and we go parties without knowing everyone present all the time.
What does it mean to carry on as usual and to watch the company we keep? What does it mean to feel safe, especially in a place with so few degrees of separation between people, inability to reach emergency services when one phone company’s system goes down, and too many guns (coming from somewhere, because we do not manufacture them here) in the hands of people who use them to solve problems?
The Ministry of National Security needs to focus on getting guns off the street and stopping them from entering the country. Figure out what it is happens at ports of entry and deal with it. Spare us the positive spins on statistics and illusions of safety. Deal with the gun problem.
Hashtags that say a particular country “is not a real place” have become quite popular. It usually accompanies the story, photo or video of a ridiculous experience. It is often used to bring humour to an otherwise sad state of affairs, but is sometimes a sign of frustration or disappointment. There is very little to connect the broad range of experiences the hashtag connects except for the sentiment that the people participating in its use are not impressed. Whether it is a joke or a protest, it reduces the place to a particular deficiency and does not directly challenge systems or the people within them to do better, nor does it offer solutions. We can all think of situations that made us wonder where we are and why whatever was happening seemed to be acceptable. Take a minute to think of your own recent example.
As I write this, the electricity is off for the second time in a 15-hour period. I know there are people in Nassau who have been having a worse experience, suffering through outages for long periods of time and with greater frequency. Does anything rile us up more than this? It is hot and there is very little breeze. Households with babies and elderly people become especially miserable when everyone is hot, no one can do what they want to do and essential functions are more difficult to access. Traffic is a disaster near certain intersections. Many businesses cannot operate, or the cost increases because they have to run on generators. Other utilities are affected. We do not just lose the lights, but the ability to function. Feeling the heat becomes even more frustrating because its source, the sun, laughs at us and our refusal to acknowledge its ability to give us power. It just doesn’t make sense. Is The Bahamas a real place?
Days ago, I observed as people went back and forth, arguing about the announcement that scholarships would be made available for students with GPAs of 2.0 or higher to attend University of The Bahamas. Some said the standard was too low, and would ultimately lead to the devaluation of the degree. Some said students with less than a 3.0 GPA did not deserve scholarships. These were the two main arguments and they are terribly flawed.
Education is not just for the individual, but for the society we form together. It does not lose its value. The real issue is that some people derive their own value from the resources they are able to access that others cannot. They build a sense of self on the privilege — nothing they have earned — to access, use and control resources like information and services. Mobile devices do not lose their value when more people have them, but it sure feels great to have the latest model while everyone else is “behind”.
It is strange to see people argue against wider access to education, particularly for those who would otherwise be locked out due to financial need. We want stronger leadership, better customer service, deeper public dialogue and improvements all-around, but oppose access to tertiary education for a student with a 2.5?
It is important to note our school system is imperfect, does not adequately respond to student needs and misses opportunities to recognise learning differences and mental health issues, and does not account for this in curricula or examination design. We look at examination results and GPAs as if they are separate from other systems, practices, and circumstance. We do not agree that financial difficulty should not keep anyone from pursuing tertiary education. Is The Bahamas a real place?
A man convicted of rape had his sentence reduced because he is a first-time rapist. Is The Bahamas a real place? We are paying $9000 for the Governor General’s housing rental. Is The Bahamas a real place? BTC systems were down and it was impossible to reach emergency services. Is The Bahamas a real place?
The Bahamas is a real place when Shaunae Miller wins a medal or breaks a record. The Bahamas is a real place when Sir Sidney Poitier is on the big screen. The Bahamas is a real place when anyone outside of it says the wrong thing about it and faces the online abuse many Bahamians unleash. It has produced people who make Bahamians proud. It drew over a half million people to its shores just in the month of May. It may have a certain magic, blessing, or favour, but it cannot be great in the ways we want if we do not turn our lamentations into demands. If we do not turn our demands into actions. If we do not act collectively. If our collective actions does not have vision. If our vision is not stated, understood, shared and consistently used to drive us forward.
The Bahamas is a real place and Bahamians are real people. We have the opportunity to not only identify the challenges we are facing, but to create and implement solutions. Where is the hashtag for that? Before climate change takes us seriously and makes The Bahamas history, let’s understand we are in a real place and have work to do if we want it to work for us.
Published by The Tribune on July 3, 2019.
