Imagine
for a moment what life would be like if you had to queue up at every
grocery store just to get basic food items for your family. While
you’re standing in line, your palms get sweaty , your heart pounds hard
against your chest. Waiting to get to the point of sale seems like an
eternity. While in line, your fear intensifies with every step forward
to the counter. Your fear is that you would have spent several hours in
line only to be turned away at the counter with the dreaded words,
'sorry, come back next week. We just ran out of ….' For many, this
is a difficult scenario to comprehend, but for my generation and that
of my parents, this was reality during the 70’s and 80’s inGuyana, South America when we lived under the dictatorship ofLinden Forbes Sampson Burnham,
the first President of this small South American country of only 83,000
square miles and a population of under one million people.
Guyana,
once a British colony, gained its independence in 1966 under the
leadership of Burnham. Under his ideology of nationalization and self
sufficiency, he gradually steered the country into the abyss of
socialism from 1966 until his death in 1985. In an already poverty
stricken environment, 1966 marked the beginning of political and
economic chaos accompanied by growing racial tensions between the East
Indians and Blacks who together form the majority.
Guyana,
conquered from the Dutch, came to be developed under British rule.
Under the British Slave Act, shiploads of African slaves were cast on
the shorelines of Guyana, followed by indentured laborers from India,
Asia, and Europe. These slaves and laborers were brought to Guyana to
work on the sugar plantations.
After Burnham
gained Guyana’s independence in 1966, his political platform and
cabinet were very race oriented, empowering the Blacks and resulting in
growing tensions and dislike for each other among the Indians and
Blacks. There were no general elections between 1966 and 1985. Human
rights and civil liberties were suppressed. There were many political
assassinations of brilliant scholars and political activists who tried
to bring change to Burnham’s socialist regime. Two unforgettable
assassinations wereWalter RodneyandVincent Teekah.
The
tensions between the Blacks and Indians continued to grow and
eventually rose to the level of riots, looting, burning, and killing.
I’ll never forget the riot of 1971. At eight years old, it would be my
first glimpse and real understanding of the racial pain. It was a
beautiful day. At around 9 a.m., the sun shone in all its glory but the
calm and beauty of the day was disturbed by the echoing cries of people
running for cover as the loud bang of gunshots filled the air. My
sister and I were at school when suddenly my Dad burst into the
classroom and grabbed us without much explanation. He had to brave the
violent streets on his bicycle, dodging bullets to get his two
daughters back home safely. My Dad put my sister and me on the bike,
both on the middle passenger bar and pedaled as fast as he could to get
us home safely. When we got there, he rushed us into the living room
(which was upstairs) and told us to lie on the floor behind the sofas.
There would be many more of these riots in the years ahead.
Let’s
go back to the scene at the beginning of this story. Many institutions
were nationalized; travel and foreign currency were restricted.
Therefore, waiting in line for basic food items was the norm. Burhnam’s
idea of self sufficiency meant that we produced our own flour, rice,
sugar, etc. Of course, importation of these items was illegal. Many
businessmen tried to smuggle them in but couldn’t meet the demand.
While Guyana could supply itself with rice and sugar, we could not
produce wheat flour (He urged the people to make flour from rice),
milk, and other nutritional foods.
Infant formula
was not sufficiently available. Mothers improvised to feed young
babies. The baby formula ration was one five pound can of per month.
How did working mothers feed their babies when they were not available
to breast feed? I was one of those mothers who added pureed plantains
to the formula to make it last until it was time for the next can.
Many
things were in short supply. At the gas station where we purchased
propane cooking gas by the canister there were lines too. And not
every day, only on certain days when the canisters were in stock. Here
the lines would form the previous evening. At around 6pm people
started taking their positions to make sure they were among the first
20 or 50 or whatever the quota was that day. They would take turns
sleeping and watching each other ‘s position until dawn.
Electricity
was another big problem. It was constantly interrupted – to the point
where many residential areas would go without electricity for an entire
day or night. This affected not only electrical appliances but also
the flow of water to our homes. We were constantly keeping buckets of
water for the shower, toilets, and all other needs.
Education
was good until the student got to the university. A four year college
became a three-year one, with the third year being obligatory national
service. After graduation, students often had to sign a five year
contract with the government. One had to work for the government and
could not leave the country during this period.
All travel
abroad was controlled. Permission to travel abroad was granted only
after your tax records were checked and it was confirmed that you were
tax compliant. Foreign currency restrictions were tracked by stamping
the last page of the passport with the date and amount of cash issued
per trip.
Guyana’s socialism gradually faded after the death of
Burnham in 1983. And it wouldn’t be until 1992, after 28 years of
dictatorship, that Guyanese citizens would experience their first free
and fair election. Cheddi Jagan would become President – yes the same
guy that lost the rigged election to Burham in 1963.
In
conclusion, I must say that amidst all these sufferings and struggles,
one cannot leave amiss the emotional distress that a population suffers
from under socialism. While trying to find food, and nurture growing
babies, families yell at each other in anger and frustration – life
becomes a barren desert upon which love and compassion are hard to
cultivate.
Rehana Wolfe, born in Guyana, now lives in Pennsylvania. She has a Master's degree in Communications from Villanova University.
