Dear Editor,
The pain of Nanny is upon you now. The cry of her powerful voice must fill your ear... as the voices of the ancestors of this great Jamaica, oh dear prime minister. The labours of our fathers are before you, oh dear prime minister. And the call of this generation is unto you, oh dear, prime minister.
We know the truth about you. We have seen you before now. We know who you are, and what you are. You are strong, you are able, you care for the land and its people. Has the power of fear dimmed your light? Not so, it must not be so, for you are a woman of faith. So let your faith release your shining; for the generation now demands it of you.
Arise out of this slumber, for we have seen your potential and your strength. In you we see the potential of the strong black, the potential of the Jamaican, the potential of the children of Sam, and of Nanny of the Maroons. You know the darkness. You have seen struggles and the struggle of the people. Have the foreigners quieted you ... you too? Have the Obamas, Thatchers and the like, in their abilities present and past, stayed you and your strength? Not so, it must not be so, daughter of the proud land, and offspring of this blessed soil. Yours is your own power and ability. They are not Portia, Portia is not them. Orators there are many, visionaries and hope givers, birthers of purpose, local purpose, there are a few.
Nanny is dead, and we remember her .... Portia lives, we would see her. This is your year, oh dear prime minister. This is your era. Shine as you are, shine as you are, as you know, and bless Jamaica, land we love. Order your house aright, as do the mothers in many homes here. Do what is daily done, and give sustenance to the Jamaican home. Our many Nannys stand daily alone, lifting a weight impossible. You are chief now. Lift the weight before you, impossible as it may be, and save the daughters that are toiling and motivate the sons that are struggling. Truth, the impossible is done daily here in this your land.
We need not Nanny today, we need Portia Simpson Miller. We need no foreigner to lead, we are 50 and free... we need the strength of an able Prime Minister. Lead this nation out of today's oppression... lead today, toward that singular vision. Take this nation to one singular mission, and fight as your 'fores' once did. This is your season and hours in time. Be counted amount the greats that struggled even to the death, and are now counted. Write your name in the history of the great; this is the time for the doing.
And what's in your hand, mighty woman? No sickle, 'lass or chains that bind; just now a pen, not a sword. What stands before you but a fresh fight. We have been made free by struggle, blood, sweat and tears ... Shall we not be further free by yours? Be what you were meant to be, a hero arising, a heroine shining at a dark hour.
Who can stem the violence like you? Who can rally the people like you? Who can give hope like you? This is the season for you. The opportunity is in no others hands, the sceptre and its service is in your hands, the resource and the responsibility.
Answer the call of the forefathers and our former champions, answer the call of this great generation and let God bless Jamaica.
Christopher G E Brodber
chrisbrodber@yahoo.com
Nanny dead, Portia lives!
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The pain of Nanny is upon you now. The cry of her powerful voice must fill your ear... as the voices of the ancestors of this great Jamaica, oh dear prime minister. The labours of our fathers are before you, oh dear prime minister. And the call of this generation is unto you, oh dear, prime minister.
We know the truth about you. We have seen you before now. We know who you are, and what you are. You are strong, you are able, you care for the land and its people. Has the power of fear dimmed your light? Not so, it must not be so, for you are a woman of faith. So let your faith release your shining; for the generation now demands it of you.
Arise out of this slumber, for we have seen your potential and your strength. In you we see the potential of the strong black, the potential of the Jamaican, the potential of the children of Sam, and of Nanny of the Maroons. You know the darkness. You have seen struggles and the struggle of the people. Have the foreigners quieted you ... you too? Have the Obamas, Thatchers and the like, in their abilities present and past, stayed you and your strength? Not so, it must not be so, daughter of the proud land, and offspring of this blessed soil. Yours is your own power and ability. They are not Portia, Portia is not them. Orators there are many, visionaries and hope givers, birthers of purpose, local purpose, there are a few.
Nanny is dead, and we remember her .... Portia lives, we would see her. This is your year, oh dear prime minister. This is your era. Shine as you are, shine as you are, as you know, and bless Jamaica, land we love. Order your house aright, as do the mothers in many homes here. Do what is daily done, and give sustenance to the Jamaican home. Our many Nannys stand daily alone, lifting a weight impossible. You are chief now. Lift the weight before you, impossible as it may be, and save the daughters that are toiling and motivate the sons that are struggling. Truth, the impossible is done daily here in this your land.
We need not Nanny today, we need Portia Simpson Miller. We need no foreigner to lead, we are 50 and free... we need the strength of an able Prime Minister. Lead this nation out of today's oppression... lead today, toward that singular vision. Take this nation to one singular mission, and fight as your 'fores' once did. This is your season and hours in time. Be counted amount the greats that struggled even to the death, and are now counted. Write your name in the history of the great; this is the time for the doing.
And what's in your hand, mighty woman? No sickle, 'lass or chains that bind; just now a pen, not a sword. What stands before you but a fresh fight. We have been made free by struggle, blood, sweat and tears ... Shall we not be further free by yours? Be what you were meant to be, a hero arising, a heroine shining at a dark hour.
Who can stem the violence like you? Who can rally the people like you? Who can give hope like you? This is the season for you. The opportunity is in no others hands, the sceptre and its service is in your hands, the resource and the responsibility.
Answer the call of the forefathers and our former champions, answer the call of this great generation and let God bless Jamaica.
Christopher G E Brodber
chrisbrodber@yahoo.com
Nanny dead, Portia lives!
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