Sir Errol Walton Barrow

(The Father of Barbados Independence)

St. Lucy, no doubt, cradled this man who
Identified well with folks on the streets;

Ruth O'neal birth his DNA tattoo.

Education was the staple he fed

Regularly, this bread to folks widespread;

Raised the flow of their social justice

O'er colonial serfs iron-cape;

Led him to reshape the social landscape.

With him at the helm of the 'Ship of State'

All hands on his deck raised the 'Trident' straight;

Los Barbados sent back Union Jack

To far-off England on Guy Fawkes' back

On November of nineteen sixty-six

Ne'er more to shroud our heritage mix.

Brightly we sing "in plenty and in time"

All lines to our national anthem

Remembering his legacy sublime.

Recently though, the party he co-found

Ousted the high Bees from their entrenched hive

With a manifesto Dems did contrive.

© Paterika Hengreaves

November 14, 2008

Comments

I wrote this acrostic poem in awe of Sir Errol Walton Barrow’s political life on the occasion of our 42nd Independence Day Celebrations. The move toward independence birthed in the 1930’s with a struggle by the descendants of liberated slaves to overcome high income restrictions on voting that kept political dominance by merchants of British descent. The results at the polls lead to the formation of trade unions from which leaders emerged.

Sir Grantley Adams founded the Barbados Progressive League, now the Barbados Labour Party. He was elected Premier of Barbados in 1958. By default, Sir Grantley Adam’s monarchristic view was no rival for Errol Walton Barrow’s fervent socialist views which captured the hearts of the Barbadian people. They deeply felt that Errol Barrow genuinely had their interest at heart. So, they eventually replaced Sir Grantley Adams in 1961. Errol Barrow became the new Premier when his party the Democractic Labour Party, a liberal alternative to the conservative Barbados Labour Party, gained power. Barbados’ ability to function autonomously through peaceful democratic process resulted in the negotiation of its independence at a constitutional conference with United Kingdom in June, 1966. The 30th of November is now a national holiday in Barbados that celebrates its independence.

Barbados has one of the oldest governments in the world, with Parliament first established in 1641, from December 1961, Barbados was granted internal self-government under the direction of Right Honorable Errol Walton Barrow, who then became Premier. In November 1964 the title Premier was changed to Prime Minister and then in 1966 the Barbados Independence Act was passed in the British Parliament in London. Barbados gained full independence from the United Kingdom on November 30, 1966, when it became a commonwealth country, with Queen Elizabeth 11 remaining as head of state, with the monarchy represented by the Governor General.

Sir Errol Walton Barrow was born in the parish of St. Lucy, Barbados on January 21, 1920 and this day is now a national holiday in Barbados to celebrate one of the country’s national heroes. In the parish of St. Michael there is a national park, the Errol Barrow Park. The father of Barbados Independence, Sir Errol Walton Barrow served in World War II and went on to train as a barrister at law. In 1955 he formed the Democratic Labour Party. After Barbados was granted internal self-government, Errol Barrow’s second major achievement was to lower the age of voting to 18 in 1964. His brand of leadership showered on him the greater accolade of Statesman and not that of a politician.

He was married to the American, Carolyn Plaskett Barrow, born on January 31, 1917 in Orange, New Jersey. She became the first lady of Barbados. Two children, David Barrow and Leslie Barrow were the result of their marriage. Carolyn Barrow died in Barbados of natural causes at the age of 84 on November 11, 2001. Her husband, Errol Walton Barrow was 67 years when he died on June 2, 1987. Their daughter, Lesley Barrow at 58 died on August 8, 2008 in Barbados.

The Trident Nation

As sure as eggs we no more roam

Like strangers on the land

For with pride we have covered our nudity

Laid bare by the esoteric doings

Of the white plantocracy

That made darkies till the land

While ignoring the cries of Payne

The Trini they did not understand

So pandemonium in 1937.

Broke out on the island.

The barking yell

Of the whites is now history

So the story goes

That the red, white and blue band

That tied the union with jack

Has been broken

By Dipper

And because of that

The colonial drums and the scepter sway

Have left this beautiful land

On the thirtieth of November

Nineteen sixty-six.

The imperialist footprints

Are nowhere on our sands.

As a trident nation

Barbadians are free

And so very proud are we

Of forty-six years of history.

Independence has give us back the dignity

Of a sound mind and state

With all kinds of food on the table

To celebrate in heroic style

The bitter with the sweet

As we jam on the highway

Together.

So as a sovereign nation on its own

We are blessed with children

Of every race and tone

A kaleidoscope of colour

Human capital blooming brightly

United under the Trident Flag

Flying so high with all its might.

One love, one nation

For its sons and daughters all

Such pride for our country

Is no wanton boast.

We are a young developing nation

And so in the process we worship God

And in Him we put our trust

For it is the sure way to success.

Now on this national day

Of Independence

We must reflect on the past

Then look ahead with confidence.

So like the proven skills and dexterity

Of Sir Gary Sobers

We as a nation can

Bat and bowl on any wicket.

©Paterika Hengreaves

The View (Prose Poem)

As I sit here at the window viewing rolling hills and fallow, yesteryear memories are back on a fast forward spinning track now that the ground is very wet. Deserted fields now catch the eyes and there are no signs of edible supplies. It has been raining days on in a row. Heavenly fireworks are on show. The clattering sound, flashing neon lights and pilots are afraid of the sky so planes do not start the flight. 

The rains are but gone now, the sky is clear and animate and blooms are everywhere. The dragonflies are in the air.



Such an awful name they must bear and I will not call them that in here for they must know that I do care. Oh! How they do soar in the sun with flair. One minute their heads are up in the cloud and then down with their outstretched wings so translucently clear.  Their gaping mouths are share delight. They stalk their prey and swallow them in the bright light. Now I say predators are on the loose. Mosquitoes and gnats are in the noose. They fly so freely high above in search of those mates to love. Rest they must on that blade of grass mindful of children as they pass.  They stand on their head, what a laugh, their tails so straight like some giraffe. They conjugate in the groove and notch. Their mating wheel is there to watch. Audible impact is the lust. Dragonflies you tease and you fuss zooming close to my callaloo. Then you must be the tantaboo.

©Paterika Hengreaves

The New Curriculum

Change is here, there and everywhere. Most people don't like change and this is 'raising cain', the rebel in us all. Oh! Give me a break. So we make a pause, reflect and then make the change. In the generic vein, men pause before the change. When the pendulum on the academic clock swings from one ideology to the next, a change has occurred, the paradigm shift. Concept-based teaching in the classroom they want to see because too many nonessential facts are on the plate, causing kids to suffer from regurgitation ache with the brain foaming and not roaming as it should, inquiringly to construct and construe creatively. The molecules of chalk-dusk and spit balls flying about not good for the eyeballs for they maim with pain. A diet of Edutech cookies woud constrain those salivate balls. Yea, we would have constructed a student-friendly commune where constructivism as they call it, would flourish with equal opportunities for all. Multi-tasking teachers, they all would be, facilitating the learning process for all to see. Socializing the kids in groups of four or more, aircraft seatng in the classroom, not anymore. Exchanging, consulting and verifying of ideas are on the upward swing, which would increase the collaborative score. Censorship of intellectual thought, not again. Mind you this was never the case before. Testing, you must, but the mess in the process, we must address. Portfolio assessment and observation checklist, we implore. One-shot examining and stuffing must go through the eddo.

© Paterika Hengreaves


Notes

eddo: It is also referred to as the taro or dasheen. In Barbados this tropical plant is called the eddo. It is grown primarily as a vegetable food for its edible corm (root vegetable). Secondarily as a leaf vegetable. The leaves of this plant look like elephant ears.

'raising cain': Adam is the first man in the old Judeo-Christian Bible and he raised two sons, Cain and Abel from his wife, Eve. Cain was jealous of his brother Abel and he killed him according to Genesis Chapter 4: Verses 1 to 8. Read the entire Chapter for the full account.

These two brothers fought often (sibling rivalry) and as such, their relationship was filled with trouble. Hence, the expression: raising cain (meaning to cause trouble and disturb others.)

Sugarcane

Look, see those people in the fields standing with feet in so much trash. No doubt, they are thinking about the weekend cash as they do the sugarcane dance. They top each blade of grass with a lance. They are as busy as the bees. On the island they work for Arthur and me. Who are those people in the fields? They are the sugar-workers, and oh how they please as they swing and hurl their hands in the breeze and kiss the grasses with bended knees. Their voices are loud, but their throats are not hoarse. They sing too sweetly, but their hands might be coarse. What are the words to the tunes they sing? Do you know the lyrics to what they say? Are they singing calypso songs about Harding, and Carlisle Bay? But I say to you, that yearly they dance in every crop-over band, which brings foreign capital flowing to this our beautiful land.

© Paterika Hengreaves