Arrival of identity

Dear Diary,

Ah me, Nagga Man, again. Me feel real good, an’ me na even tek wan drink yet; me guh wait till ten a’clack today. And na beca’se a wan laang weekend me feel good; ah beca’se me come home, Dear Diary. Yes, me come home!!

 Eva since Rum Jhaat aks me fuh jine up wid Pee-an’-See, me bin t’ink me gat fuh play like me na Indian. But yuh know me a wan real Indian, right, Dear Diary? Ev’ry day me use fuh drink wan half battle Bush Rum, but now me stap; me a drink wan battle whiskey now!! An’ na beca’se me gat nuff money – dem a pay me fuh drink!! Dem call am “enta-tain-ment”!! But me ah only enta-tain me-self!!

 Yes, me come home. An’ yuh know who mek me come home, Dear Diary? Me leadah, Grain Ja!! ‘E tell me nothin’ wrang if me seh me a wan Indian!! Yes, me can admit me a wan Indian!! Yesta-day abee bin a Berbice an’ Grain Ja call de Haliday “Indian Arrival Day”!!

 Da man pawah-ful!! ‘E mo pawah-ful dan da chap fram de Bible – Moses. Moses bin pa’t de Red Sea suh ‘e people could crass ova to de odda side; but yuh know wha’ Pressie do?? ‘E mek wan call to de Berbice Bridge people and dem had to keep the Bridge open fuh all abee fram town fuh crass ova!!

 De only problem, Dear Diary, Rum Jhaat prappa vex wid me. ‘E na even tek wan drink wid me. Now yuh know da serious, right? An’ yuh know wha mek? Just beca’se Pressie na tell ‘e fuh guh wid abee to Berbice!!

 …But HOL’ IT, DEAR DIARY. AH 10 A’CLAK NOW. ME GAT FUH TEK ME DRINK. ME AH WAN INDIAN!!

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