Dear Editor,
This is an open letter to Prime Minister Portia Simpson Miller:
I must say that over the years since you have been the prime minister, I have looked forward to you defending yourself from criticism, whether just or unjust. I have enjoyed the irregular dose of delight and shock medicine that you continue to dish out. I love the fact that my prime minister is not afraid of "any boy or gal, anywhere". You know how to defend yourself.
So when I heard British PM David Cameron telling the people who you love so much -- the poor people -- that we need to move on from slavery, I got excited, I was anticipating your response. I know that you would top the famous "nuh fraid of nuh bwoy or gal" speech. As a matter of fact, I knew British PM was going to regret that statement. "Cause him no know sey Jamaicans nuh tek chat."
You see. Madam PM, I played your response in my head and it went something like this (patois version): "David, a wha dat yuh a seh? Yu nuh mean that, don't?
And David saying: "Yes, you Jamaicans need to move on from slavery."
Madam PM, in my head I saw you saying: "David, a joke yuh a joke; yu nuh serious!'
I was cheering you "Go, PM Simpson Miller, go!"
I was estatic.
But guess what, PM Simpson Miller, I had to perish my thoughts because you didn't respond to PM Cameron. You of all people smiled at him and hugged him and kiss him, 'how yuh fi kiss da man deh?'
But, then, I guess your security minister really told you that we needed a prison...right? So I know that you contained yourself because we really, really, badly need the prison, don't?
I have been trying to tell people that you really wanted to 'answer' Cameron for telling us to "move on", but you couldn't do it, because we need a prison. I know it's not too late now, you, as Madam PM, had to be politically correct...'nuh true?'
In closing, Madam PM, please don't disappoint me like that again, I need my meds and I can't afford Vicodin or morphine. I need you to call a spade a spade, 'mek dem know say you nuh fraid a..."
Yours truly,
Jamaican in need of hope, but will settle for humour.
royalneat@gmail.com
Madam PM, I saw your answer in my head
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This is an open letter to Prime Minister Portia Simpson Miller:
I must say that over the years since you have been the prime minister, I have looked forward to you defending yourself from criticism, whether just or unjust. I have enjoyed the irregular dose of delight and shock medicine that you continue to dish out. I love the fact that my prime minister is not afraid of "any boy or gal, anywhere". You know how to defend yourself.
So when I heard British PM David Cameron telling the people who you love so much -- the poor people -- that we need to move on from slavery, I got excited, I was anticipating your response. I know that you would top the famous "nuh fraid of nuh bwoy or gal" speech. As a matter of fact, I knew British PM was going to regret that statement. "Cause him no know sey Jamaicans nuh tek chat."
You see. Madam PM, I played your response in my head and it went something like this (patois version): "David, a wha dat yuh a seh? Yu nuh mean that, don't?
And David saying: "Yes, you Jamaicans need to move on from slavery."
Madam PM, in my head I saw you saying: "David, a joke yuh a joke; yu nuh serious!'
I was cheering you "Go, PM Simpson Miller, go!"
I was estatic.
But guess what, PM Simpson Miller, I had to perish my thoughts because you didn't respond to PM Cameron. You of all people smiled at him and hugged him and kiss him, 'how yuh fi kiss da man deh?'
But, then, I guess your security minister really told you that we needed a prison...right? So I know that you contained yourself because we really, really, badly need the prison, don't?
I have been trying to tell people that you really wanted to 'answer' Cameron for telling us to "move on", but you couldn't do it, because we need a prison. I know it's not too late now, you, as Madam PM, had to be politically correct...'nuh true?'
In closing, Madam PM, please don't disappoint me like that again, I need my meds and I can't afford Vicodin or morphine. I need you to call a spade a spade, 'mek dem know say you nuh fraid a..."
Yours truly,
Jamaican in need of hope, but will settle for humour.
royalneat@gmail.com
Madam PM, I saw your answer in my head
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