Heroes and murderers

Din Duggan, Contributor

WHEN ON, my television is usually tuned to CNN. Several times each day that refrain, courtesy of the Jamaica Tourist Board, catches my attention - part of a seductive appeal to visit a heavenly island paradise of white sand beaches, unmitigated relaxation and "one love." It invokes images of a land that bears a vague resemblance to one that I know and love.

On Friday, Dwayne Nelson's Heroes' Weekend journey to Kingston unfolded like that of many young Jamaicans temporarily fleeing cold, foreign lands. It likely involved last-minute shopping, a quick check of the web to plot the social agenda, a rush to the airport, and finally, after a gruelling day of travel, the reward: sweet, sweet Jamaica. Dwayne's first night home featured much of the usual - he ate, drank, and laughed with old friends and family, made new friends, and prepared for a night out in celebration of life. Between drinks and jerk at Scotchie's and the planned festivities, an armed man accosted Dwayne at his family's home, relieving him of his cellphone, his wallet, and his life. The promising young Jamaican, father of a seven-year-old girl, and founder of the popular website, partyspree.com, was greeted, on his first night home, by three shots to the head.

The party continues

Where is the change? The party went on that night without Dwayne. The Heroes' weekend celebrations continued. Flights landed bearing the delighted faces of eager visitors and homesick residents. But, somewhere deep within the soul of a nation, beneath the drumbeat of the music, buried in the hearts of all who have lost friends and loved ones to violence lies the silent reverie of a people dying for change. Where are the deafening sirens? Where is the platoon; the battalion; the cavalry? At whose office is the emergency meeting being held? On what channel is the national broadcast?

For surely we are and have been in a war, an ongoing state of emergency, that did not begin or end this year with the apprehension and deportation of one man. A symphony of outrage should blare from the land each time another precious life is taken by the hands of man. We should demand a sustained and unrelenting attack on this perverse enemy of peace. All our national resources - political, human, financial - should be mobilised to engage the untamed monster of crime. We should not yield as a result of unproven short-term successes; for the beast lurks.

Psychological war

A friend of Dwayne said to me: "I don't know what to do, I can't take it anymore. I'm tired of living life in fear." There is also an ongoing psychological war. The impact of the bloodshed does not end when the concrete is wiped clean of blood and marrow. The lasting effect is a shell-shocked nation suffering a collective and unceasing post-traumatic stress. As we bid farewell to National Heroes' Day, I humbly nominate an eighth national hero; not any single person, but many one people. For the strength of the Jamaican people to proceed with life in the face of a war deadlier and more long-standing than almost any military conflict on earth is nothing short of heroic. These are the heroes that battle daily to prevent a great nation from becoming a paradise lost.

Perhaps our leaders have dispatched reinforcements and the cavalry will soon triumphantly emerge from beyond the hill waving a banner of change. But, our government, through the ministry of tourism, has unequivocally addressed our hopes. In a message to all Jamaicans, and to the world, their response to the cry for change is clear: "in the Jamaica you know and love, nothing really changes." To Dwayne Nelson and the tens of thousands of fallen heroes: may your souls rest in eternal peace, and may your lives and deaths not have been in vain. And to Dwayne's killer, and the killers of the multitude before, I leave you with the words of reggae artiste Buju Banton: "Murderer! Blood is on your shoulder, Kill I today you cannot kill I tomorrow; Murderer, your inside must be hollow, How does it feel to take the life of another? You can hide from man, but not your conscience, Eat the bread of sorrow, drink the wine of violence, Allow yourself to be conquered by the serpent; Why, oh why, oh why did you disobey that great commandment?"

Din Duggan is an attorney and entrepreneur who now works as a consultant with a global legal search firm. Contact him at facebook.com/dinduggan, twitter.com/YoungDuggan, or dinduggan@gmail.com.