My 11-year-old nephew, in an obvious but failed attempt to fat-shame me earlier this week, said that if I continue to eat large amounts of chocolate with my usual reckless abandonment, my gravitational pull will increase. I later learnt that he was referencing, albeit exaggeratedly, a real scientific concept, specifically one that exists within the realm of physics.
A subsequent Google search led me to understanding this concept. It is as follows: “The greater the mass of an object, the greater the gravitational pull”. However, fortunately for me, I’d have to be the size of a planet to possess that level of “magnetism”. Perhaps that was the crux of the failed insult: I’m as huge as a planet. I nevertheless, remain un-fat-shamed.
While his comment was a protest for being unceremoniously dragged off to bed by his mother because I wished not to be “interrupted” from my “important” work, I received a troubling piece of news that was sent to me by a colleague. The caption read: “75 Venezuelans who arrived by ship in Guyana sent back to homeland”.
After reading the report, the chocolate tasted bitter for the first time. Emotions began to flow and it became increasingly difficult to narrow down which one I should feel. They came in rapid succession and in a repetitive fashion, as if they were caught in a loop. After some time, I was able to compose myself and narrow down to some degree, the order of these emotions. I remember feeling a combination of awe and sadness, then anger, and finally, a sort of wary acceptance.
In case you missed it, a boat carrying 75 Venezuelan nationals was intercepted by police ranks last week at the Abram Zuil Seawall, Essequibo Coast, Region Two. According to the police force, the boat measured 45 feet in length and eight feet in width. The Guyana Police Force (GPF) said all 75 persons were deported to their country of origin for failing to present themselves to the Immigration Department or Port of Entry, using the Atlantic Ocean. They were sent back in the same boat with “the assistance of adequate fuel and other amenities”. This entire ordeal lasted no more than four days.
My stomach churned at some of the comments on social media from fellow Guyanese—people whom, and I write this with a heavy heart, either lost their humanity during infancy or were perhaps denied it by their Gods. Some called for these 57 adult males, nine adult females, and nine children to be locked up and dragged before the courts “to send a message” to others who might attempt the same journey. Others went even further, suggesting they be denied aid and cast back into the river from whence they came.
As heartbreaking as this story is, I remain convinced there are moments within it that embody true courage and resilience. I will attempt to highlight them.
**Awe and Sadness**
As a former fisherman, I can attest that navigating the Essequibo River or any of the “Three Sisters”, is by no means an easy feat. With the addition of 75 persons crammed on-board, well, that becomes a Herculean task. Even the seasoned Guyanese boat operators who transport passengers and goods daily, and the islanders who know these waters well can all confirm that they don’t call it the “Mighty Essequibo River” just because it sounds cool.
Not at all. The Mighty Essequibo River is an unforgiving place.
It is therefore admirable that the Venezuelan Captain was able to traverse the river without the boat or those on-board suffering a worse fate.
A 45-foot by 8-foot boat is equivalent to a square footage of roughly 360, or an average 4.5ft2 per occupant. If your house has tiles that measure 12 inches by 12 inches, go stand in the middle of four, where they intersect. Now, sit in the middle of those four tiles. That’s the cramped space each person was confined to on that vessel.
In other words, unless they were under four feet tall, lying down to sleep wasn’t an option. I rather suspect that some sacrificed some of their already limited space to let others sleep, or they took turns. Also, they would have needed space to store supplies like water, clothing and food. Those had to fit somewhere, further limiting the available space. To make matters worse, the vessel had no roof. They were exposed to the elements. For how long, we don’t know.
I don’t know which is worse: that they came on that boat under those conditions or the fact that the Guyana Government sent them back on that same vessel. Nevertheless, the admiration I felt for those 75 persons was prompted primarily by their will to survive.
The entire situation speaks to the sad reality in Venezuela, where people are willing to take this unforgiving route, under these harsh conditions for a 50/50 chance at a better life. Imagine a mother being fully aware of these dangers but still ushering her kids onto that boat to take that journey. How mentally prepared must a father have been to knowingly put his family in harm’s way to take a chance at beating seemingly unsurmountable odds? Can you imagine risking the chance of never seeing your loved ones ever again?
**Anger**
There is a place for anger in these unfortunate series of events, but not at the 75 persons who came on that boat. The frustration would be better directed at those responsible for safeguarding our sovereignty and territorial integrity. While most people have become fixated and have heaped praise on Guyana for “posting back” the “aliens”, no one in authority has once yet provided any explanation as to how a 45-foot by 8-foot boat carrying 75 people managed to slip through undetected until it reached in our backyard.
Worse yet, how many other 45-foot by 8-foot boats carrying 75 people have managed to pass by unnoticed? This question becomes even more relevant given that just two weeks ago, a Venezuelan Naval Vessel violated our sovereignty by entering our waters and threatening our FPSOs.
It is therefore unacceptable that, just days after this ordeal, Guyanese wake up to the news that a boatload of Venezuelans slipped past our water patrols and docked in our backyard. Where is the outrage for this failure?
How can the powers-that-be convince us that we are truly safe when 75 refugees could have easily been 100 soldiers? Boasting about deporting the Venezuelans who arrived under their watch is like a guard dog demanding a bone for chasing away an intruder after the house has already been robbed. Heads should have rolled. Demand that, not the dehumanizing of people who seek survival.
We must accept that if Guyana has become a beacon for the world’s wealthiest, it is no surprise that it also draws those desperate to survive, especially those fleeing an unforgiving regime like Maduro’s.
Many Guyanese have also accepted that more and more Venezuelans will arrive, either by sea or land. Some have even opined that perhaps this is just the beginning and have leveraged this possibility in their call for drastic “examples” to be set. For a country like Guyana, which has one of the largest diasporas in the World, the only example we should be setting is one of peace, love and tolerance.
While I agree that those seeking to enter our country must do so legally, there must be a balance between safeguarding our people from potential threats and preserving the dignity of those who see Guyana as their only hope. No matter the approach taken to distinguish the two, humanity must always come first.
I hope that our treatment of those 75 Venezuelans, especially the children, has made them anything but enemies.
To Guyanese, even as the world feels our gravitational pull, may we never take for granted the privileges we enjoy—the sweetness of chocolate, the warmth of our beds, the “Jumbie Bird” roundabout, a “mix” from Pagoda, and yes, the taunts of those we hold dear. May others be so lucky.