As I drove by I heard voices, muffled words, hidden tones due to gentle breezes; in my mind nothing made sense. I tried harder to listen, then like brutal attacks, came shouts of pain and anger, thunderous voice blown by nature’s wind.
It was a vexing conversation, ambiguous emotions, fits of rage, boiling anger between who? I don’t know?
I tried to look for faces, but none could be found, but smoke and angry protest, a voice seeking justice. I thought who could be so angry? Listening attentively, I heard the words, the cry of a broken heart.
I tried to hear through the wind the shouts of a tormented soul, as emotions flared the voice grew stronger, louder, echoing from deep within, deep-seated pain then I heard, then I knew, who was bitterly protesting.
“I want justice!” cried Pond Island against Government building.
Government Building: “Do I know you?” asked government building with a taut smile.
Pond Island: in pain, Pond Island exclaimed, “You moved into my neighbourhood, superficially, flamboyant, exclusive, embellish in frills and thrills, yet very illusive and you asked do I know you?
“Four stories your ivory tower stands, but my tower; however, emerged from remains, refuse and discarded items.
“I watched you daily as men busy themselves, giving you birth and life and shape. I watched you up close and from afar, like a puzzle you were fitted together superficially great. I watched with profound admiration, as they hailed the day of your completion.
Beaming brightly like a city on a hill, beaming colours brightening my still waters; but gaze on me, a tragedy, a travesty of justice, of rightness. Hear my plea! A forgotten soul; like Lazarus I too stand at your majestic gate, but like Dives you don’t see me.”
“You don’t see me, but once I was majestic in splendour, a work of art, a thing of beauty.
Created by the voice of God, the words God – let there be! And I became, became a place of wonder, a place of still waters. God gifted me, to serve humanity, a producer of salt, I became. But today, you don’t see me?
“The land around me was identified by me, not sweet Sint Maarten’s land but Soualiga! I gave this country its name, my salt was widely acclaimed. So gaze into my waters, see my history, my story, Massa wanted me and exploited me.
“Yes, gaze into my waters see condemned black bodies, blistered and bloodied hands clawing through my waters. Gaze into my waters and listen, hear songs of redemption echoing from black diaphragms. Coming from the march of salt pickers, like soldiers in tune to a steady beat giving birth to salt mounds at their calloused feet; but today, you don’t see me?
“You don’t see me, you just come; Johnny come lately, move yourself into my community.
You! Johnny come lately, building institutions for prosperity on my property, but don’t see me!”
Pond Island silently turns its back and said, “Tell me neighbour, why must I suffer from pollutants, wild dogs, rodents and fire? Neighbour, must I be burdened with shame? You forgot I gave you your name!
“Disgrace is now my story, my lot, my reality, just because you don’t see me!
“Before I go let me say, one day, some day you will be compelled to see me! Sadly, like Lazarus when I am gone then I will be free. Only then will you remember me – The Great Salt Pond – soon no longer posterity or a legacy, but a memory.”
Pond Island walks away, sadly.
Reverend Dennis Baptiste
