Satiricus walked towards the Back Street Bar with a bounce to his steps. After all the gloom-and-doom news about the political divisions in the country, he was happy as a kiskadee that the ERC – which he and his friends pronounced “erk”, rhyming with “jerk” – was up and running once again. His excitement bubbled over as soon as he took his first swig of beer.
“These people on “erk” represent every group in Guyana,” Satiricus enthused. “They’ll solve all our ‘us-and-them’ problems!”
“But yuh bin tell abee de KFC woulda do de same t’ing w’en yuh jine up wid dem!” said Bungi. “Wha’ happen?”
“Let’s not go there,” said Satiricus rather crossly. “You know the Trotter fell out with Nagga Man and Rum Jhaat, and the KFC became split along racial lines.”
“But if ‘erk” suh good, wha’ mek ayuh na tek de problem to dem?” asked Cappo earnestly.
“Well, if you go to ‘erk’, you have to point out the racial or ethnic bias,” interjected Hari on behalf of Satiricus, who was signalling the waitress for another round. He was buying.
“Well, rememba de time de KFC seh Nagga Man mus tu’n Speakah and Grain-Ja pick de Trotter?” pointed out Bungi. “Da na racial bias?”
“The ‘erk’ don’t deal with political problems,” said Satiricus with growing annoyance. The gyaaf wasn’t going the way he’d planned. “The people on ‘erk’ are above politics.”
“Me na know ‘bout da!” said Cappo. “Dis GECON case na political?”
“But I have another question for Sato,” interjected Hari. “What you mean the folks on ‘erk’ are above politics?”
“Well, take the chairman, who’s the most important member of ‘erk’,” said Satiricus. “He’s a big-time pastor and has all races in his flock! He won’t take sides.”
“Budday!” interrupted Bungi. “How laang ‘e bin a preach to ‘e flack?”
“Over thirty years!” boasted Satiricus.
“Suh if ‘e na salve de race problem in ‘e church in 30 year,” asked Bungi. “How ‘e guh salve abee race praablem in politics in one month?”
Satiricus said, “Let’s drink our beer.”