LIKE MOTHER (adapted)

Post date: Apr 22, 2010 11:22:33 PM

The other side of current affairs and recent history, which our people need to and right to know in order to learn from the past, understand the present and see where our future is headed so that we can change it.

Important names in this article - Anna Adamira, Bjerkham

Bjorn Bjerkham

Johann Bjerkham


Excerpt from REFLECTIONS –Modern Politics, The Caribbean, Africa & Asia Minor by Angela and Gary Cole.

LIKE MOTHER (adapted)

“So tractable, so peaceable are these people, that I swear to your Majesties there is not in the world a better nation. They love their neighbours as themselves, and their discourse is ever sweet and gentle and accompanied with a smile, and though it is true that they are naked, yet their manners are decorous and praiseworthy.”

... Description of the Tainos on the island of San Salvador by Christopher Columbus in a letter to the King and Queen of Spain. … Taken from Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Brown

People, no matter how rich they become, who put money and material over principled behaviour, are incapable of offering assistance or comfort to anyone who behaves with integrity.

“Why don’t you go and f…… yourself.” Saffie said. “You are a whore.”

“Like mother?” I asked.

“When you want something from people you have to do what you have to do.” Saffie’s wife said.

“But that is whoring.”

“I prefer to whore.” She said, “Anna left Assad, when I was out of the island, if I were here I would not have let her leave. Syrian men are like that.”

“But I have self respect and my kids are happy and focused.” The Anna referred to said.

Saffie’s older boy left school before he sat his ‘O’ levels. He works in his father’s betting shop and is spoken of as a millionaire at nineteen. The younger son is at an expensive school abroad and lives with his paternal aunts, who hate his mother.

Assad was Anna’s live-in lover for many years. She bore him two children.

“You will do no more shows.” Assad said, as soon as their first child was born, to Anna, whom he met producing and directing shows.

Anna continued her shows. Every one knew that she did shows but Assad did not. She even did a Barclays Calypso World Contest and he did not know. Cameramen were instructed not to capture her on film. For years she did the main parade at the only horse racing club, where Assad’s family raced and she produced a bi-yearly pantomime for an exclusive girls’ school. Assad, who has been described as being “as tight as a crab’s ass,” thought that the money, which he gave her bought all the things she provided for their children.

“I used to tell him that I was only consulting on shows.”

He told her to leave his house one time too many. At the end of it all, Anna did a helpful and much-repeated television programme about abusive and controlling men.

“Every woman has a choice. I stayed in the relationship and allowed the abuse due to the fact that Assad supported my two children, who were not his and whom the courts did not provide adequately for in my first divorce.”

[Ed. Note. One of those two children, a son is Johann Bjerkham and the father who Anna claims did not provide for his son adequately is construction magnet Bjorn Bjerkham].

On the programme Anna blamed herself. “I try to show that self-worth is more important than the almighty dollar, that money does not give worth; principles are the things on which women should stand. I stayed in the relationship because of the insecurities taught to me by my mother. Even though she was straight she put up with my philandering father. People stole from him and therefore he did not see why he should not be in debt. He had no principles.”

Women can do as Anna did, or they can stay and when women stay with abusive husbands, there are four options. Be like Shirley dead: [Shirley Juman wife of now deceased cocaine lord Harvey Juman] beaten to death by her husband. Like Diane [Walcott Williams first wife of big man COW Williams] who stayed with an unfaithful husband until in her sixties, he left with a younger woman or like Saffie’s wife, driven senseless. There is the last option, which the ex-wife of a successful manufacturer[Marshall Oran] did; commit suicide.

“It is a flaw of weakness in the man’s character in that he feels he must control. These men lack empathy and self-confidence, they feed off of the control they have of their women. They say. ‘I work for the money. I have the money.’ Women are chattel, second-class citizens to them. It is in their upbringing.” Anna said.

“You came to this relationship seventeen years ago with only your good looks. What do you expect to take out of it?” Anna said the judge said as he awarded her $225,000.00 (US$112,500) . “This is the most expensive piece of pussy you ever had.” She claims that Assad’s lawyer said.

She went through three lawyers and eight years - paid the first lawyer $5,000.00. He wrote letters for three years, did not manage to reach a settlement and never returned the money. The next lawyer did not reach a settlement for four years but with him she lost custody of her son - [this son is Ryan Haloute, now managing director of Chefette] - although the courts never proved that she was an unfit mother. Anna refused to pay him and he put her before the court for $35,000.00 (US$17,500.00) in fees.

The last lawyer, a female, after three months, reached the $225,000.00 settlement. Against her advice, Anna settled. People in relationship less than sixteen years whose husbands held ordinary jobs were awarded larger settlements, which included cars and houses.

“If tears could make rivers, I would have two rivers running down my cheeks but today I am happy and my children are educated and well-adjusted.” Anna said.

For eight years she fought and in the end she settled for less than offered in the beginning just to end it for it threatened to destroyed her four children. She lost her son, for sometime, to Assad’s promises. Meanwhile her new boyfriend, whom she met two years after she left Assad, had run his novel idea for twelve years in rented airport space. One morning he opened a newspaper and found that his business was advertised for tender and a business he created was taken away.

I met Saffie’s wife in the mid seventies at horse riding; she arrived a few times dressed to ride in fine livery, was in great fear of horses and never returned. We became friendly and just back from Antigua I rented a house next to her that had previously belonged to her plantation. We shared an entrance and we wandered in and out of each other’s house through the side. She arranged business meeting did not show up, did not call and dropped out of sight until the next day. I accused her of bullshitting:

28th March 1989

Dear ........... (Saffie’s wife):

… it [your lifestyle] has allowed you to live a life of conspicuous consumption while you produce nothing and you struggle not. It dulls your sense of injustice - that wonderful thing that all human beings possess, no matter how oppressed, that drives to a higher level of freedom and conscious. … [your lifestyle] … makes uselessness and worthlessness a fashion. It fools you and makes you feel that by showing largesse, it will not be recognised that all that is being done is the extraction of value from one source and the passing along of the occasional crumb to the suffering masses.

The god you worship is really called conspicuous consumption - he assists you in doing nothing but talk and fools you that you can hide the fact that you are not producing. This god has placed you in a situation of a dog, where a leash is around your neck and you are let out at certain hours, but when the providing master returns you come to heel devoid of your mind and of any human feeling until the next time or day you are unleashed. You need a real god that will give you the strength to struggle to make the world a better place for the next generation.

I keep learning while you stagnate with your golden collar and beautiful leash for the god you worship prevents you from listening…

Your friend

Article from the Investigator newspaper 04th October 1997 entitled St. James Job Joke.

“Some strange things happen in the world of work; as one lady found out when she received a call in response to an advertisement she placed in the paper offering her services as a cook. Last Sunday she got a telephone call from a ‘well-to-do-lady’ in Holders Hill, St. James and they agreed on $200.00 per week.

“I went to the house on Monday morning along with two other women. One of the women was to press and one was to clean. Around 1:00 p.m. the house boy came to me, hand me $10.00 and said Mrs. . . . say that you can go now.”

“I did not go to work the Tuesday because of a previous engagement and this was made clear during the telephone conversation on Sunday. On Wednesday I went to the house, she hustled us out again before 1:00 p.m. The reason was that her husband did not know that she had recruited three women to work at the house and she did not want him to see us yet.” “She added that the husband went away on Wednesday night and so the women were allowed to work. On Friday she finished work at 3:00 p.m. and she and the other women were told to come to work the next day and they would be paid.“ niece come out of the bedroom with two sets of money in her hand and said to us.

“I understand that my aunt paid one of you $10. I told her that was I. She gave me some money and said ‘This is for you.’ It was two $20-dollar bills and a10-dollar bill. Is that what I left home for?”

The cook told the newspaper she thought the $10 was for bus fare. I don’t understand how the lady could look at a big woman and give her $60. The lady claims to have a history of “depression” she witnessed the appalling verbal abuse of the full-time maid where the lady screamed at her to “Get out . . . come out of my house now or you will come out naked!”

She said she also witnessed ‘cuss-outs’ between the lady and her husband and her son, and that she feels angry and ashamed, but being a Christian all she can do is to pray for the lady.”

The well-to-do woman is Saffie’s wife. “Do you believe that at forty-eight, I have been run out of my house. I am too old for this.” She said, “He took me through terror for three hours. Said he was like Donald Trump and could afford to import pussy.”

Saffie threatened to shoot her, kill her and set her afire. “He is so violent now because he went cold-turkey with cigarettes. It must be tobacco withdrawal.” Saffie gave up three packs of cigarettes a day.

Underneath, where it counts, when Saffie looks, as the maid wrote, his wife must be different and everything becomes a facade.

“How can you spend $10,000.00 in mud?” A visit to Rubber Maid for a small item ended up with $2,000.00 spent on garbage bins and rubber containers.

Saffie could not protect his wife from abuse by police. Sixteen years of marriage and a policeman put black-and-blues on her ass and he could do nothing. Saffie's wife videotaped the whole thing. She was parked in front of a beach house on a deserted road by the sea. Two tyres were on the road, not an unusual occurrence in those parts, when a drunken police officer drove up to the house; he called her out in front of her five-year-old son and her new found Christian friends and asked for her license and insurance. New video camera in hand, she took some time to find her car keys in order that she could open the cubby-hole, where the documents were stored.

“You better be careful I don’t arrest you.” From his comments, he had seen her before and may even have seen her drive past the nearby police station.

“Arrest me for losing my keys? Look, you been drinking, why don’t you let someone else write me up?”

The policeman knocked her video camera out of her hand; undamaged it stuck on the top of the police jeep and continued to film. He grabbed her, threw her on her ass into the back of his jeep and drove away. No one objected. The Christians said she should have used feminine guile. One of them telephoned Saffie.

They drove her dressed in her swimsuit and a short shirt only, instead of to the nearest police station, across the island to another. “Your ass looks real firm for a woman of forty.” When Saffie’s lawyer called police lied and said she was not there. They detained her at the station for eight hours and framed her like a common criminal. They said that they had kept her because she was under investigation in another matter.

Saffie's wife could not stand the humiliation: the memory of how she crawled into a corner and begged them not to hurt her. She slid into a heavy depression: Miss Know-it-All, and loudmouthed with her Ivy league degree and mother, who was the highest paid female executive in America – Sarah Coventry - was abused by a low-class man, who just picked her up and mauled her.

Just for good measure at the same time she found out that Saffie had been unfaithful with little things all along, all the time, and all around: right in front of her face, right inside the house and like all the other wealth Syrian men he kept an apartment. So too did Assad. The lady of the house did not feel like a lady anymore.

“That policeman is the same one that tried to framed me. He is one of the boys. With the large amount of resources you have you must pursue this matter.” I said.

She took the videotape to one policeman in charge after the other. They toyed with her. Her lawyer fiddled with her: told her that videotaped evidence was not allowed in court so we made still shots from the footage to show that her hands never left her sides and therefore she could not have assaulted anyone.

We journeyed many times to court, photographs in hand, while neither her lawyer nor the policeman showed up. The night before each appearance her son, who had been present broke out in fever and the doctor had to be called. Each time the case was adjourned and Saffie never went to court.

Magistrates insulted her in every way they could find - by tone of voice, silence and by threats. She went to pieces.

“Mummy took daddy’s gun and drove off.” Their two sons ran over to my house and said.

“She has a gun down at Bamboo Beach Bar, come quick.” A mutual acquaintance drove into my front yard an hour later.

“Do not give her anymore to drink.” Saffie’s wife was drunk and sat in the middle of the bar and the patrons tried to get a drink and a gun out of her hand.

“I am going to kill myself; shoot me.”

One good drink and she is half under the table. I fed her two rum-and-cokes. She soon fell asleep, and I took the gun from her hand and telephoned for help.

“The scandal.” Saffie said.

She was eventually found not guilty and she did not sue the Attorney General. “I cannot go through anymore. I cannot go through, what you and Anna are going through.” She was sedated for months on Prozac and then shipped to her mother in Arizona. On her return to the island, she was placed on Ativan. The tiny, innocuous-looking pills are extremely addictive. Side effects are mood swings and unstable behaviour. Withdrawal symptoms are anxiety attacks, depression, a racing heart and sweating. Ativan is banned in Britain, and several other countries. Saffie takes four to sleep. Assad never smoked but he also took Ativan.

Camacho Avenue

St. Johns


An Open Letter To Miss Jerri Fay Hall

Dear Ms. Hall

I wish to apologise for the treatment meted out to you by the Barbados Police Force. Your observation that you were victimised because you were American, female, white and rich was correct. The main motivating force was the fact that you were female. No woman will be surprised or aggrieved if you take some action to recover compensatory satisfaction. I would like you to know that the silent majority of women are in sympathy with you in this foul and unpleasant incident. I ask you not to let this put you off of the other Caribbean islands.

Barbados is unique in its bullying attitude to women. Barbadian men must be made aware of their responsibility to esteem and respect their women if they want the outside world to respect them. At the moment it seems that legislation to enforce laws for the protection and safety of women and children should be instituted immediately.

Black Barbadian men place severe physical, emotional and social restrictions on females - a large number of our sisters have silently accepted though not agreed with these restrictions. Your case is symptomatic of the intimidating action taken against any woman that these men perceive as a threat to their total domination. Women, who behave in a strong, independent and disciplined manner suffer the fate of male persecution. Please take comfort in the fact that you have many people in your corner. For most of our sisters have not heard voices yet raised in their defence.

The hundreds of less fortunate girl children, who are being sexually molested - to the extent that the Chairperson of the Child Care Board in an interview, not so long ago, said that there is cause for grave concern. Numbers of our sisters have been driven to the point that they are unable to function as whole independent human beings.

I am reminded of an acquaintance of mine, who was arrested by the police, beaten and thrown in jail for three months away from her four children - the youngest being three years, only to have charges dropped when she agreed to cut her dreadlocks and stop being a Rastafarian. With the last ember of passion in her breast, she cried, “I almost am glad when they do something like this to me and they get away with it for I know they will do it again and again and one day they will do something far worse to the wrong person - a person who has someone on their side and they will get what they deserve”

Miss Hall could you be that person? Could your action against them be a vindication of that poor Rastafarian woman, the young girl children and the forsaken women of Barbados?

Angela Cole

Police officers forced a bag on Hall at our airport that was not hers; they arrested her for marijuana, said that they found in the bag although an airline clerk said that Hall had protested from the beginning that the bag did not belong to her. Hall claimed that they molested her, made her walk in front of a light source, while clothed in a dress of thin material. After months, the courts found her not guilt of the charge but she was pillared on the call-in programmes as rich Mick Jagger’s piece of tail.

“Don’t go to Barbados.” She said on the “Max Talking Headroom Show” but she did not sue them for false arrest and another woman hit the dust.

Nor did Stella the wife of the ex-Prime Minister sue the Attorney General, when the police set her up. She was arrested and charged with assaulting a police officer out side the gates of the Houses of Parliament.

“Stella did not assault anyone. I was there and I saw.” Said a leader of the government-sponsored Pan African Movement. He said that it was usual for police to ill-treat blacks, who stood around that gate; Stella arrived, questioned their bad behaviour, opened the gate and as she walked through one police man, who did not recognize her, told her in the nastiest of vernacular to close the gate, in retaliation she said: “That is your job,” and for this he arrested her.

A police woman later gave evidence that she saw Stella, now Lady St. John, since her husband was knighted, raise her hand to assault the policeman but she did not see, when she hit the policeman. She lied. The magistrate verbally abused Stella found her guilty and she accepted the favour of not having it recorded on her criminal record and there she let the matter drop.

“You think I will let people think that I am on a rich woman side against poor black people.” The Pan Africnaist said, when told that it was his duty to tell what he saw. He never did.

Saffie and Assad families are of two main Syrian families resident in the island. They are Trinidadian and intermarried. The Syrian/Lebanese community try to live larger than life. A gambler-minister in the Democratic government allowed in Saffie’s father, who was said to be the first illiterate millionaire in Trinidad, to settle a gambling debt. His businesses of gambling and prostitution needed no education, He is patriarch of both families. Assad is his wife’s brother from a poor family from Syria.

The wife is one of seven children of which the eldest sister born in Syria still cannot read or write English. Saffie’s father set his wife’s family up in a gambling business in Guyana and they made money. The wife’s family brought this money to the island and opened a betting shop. Saffie’s father beat and abused his wife because he could and all along he kept mistresses; one for a lifetime. Saffie is a son of this unhappy marriage. The stories of the formative years of these two families are of sexual escapades and a lack of manners - home training - and self-discipline. They did as they pleased. They took advantage of their punters and manipulated government’s hierarchy.

Assad and Saffie were the two most eligible bachelors of the families. At seventeen Saffie could not take the life of abuse to which he and his mother were subjected. He borrowed $20,000.00 of his father’s money from her and set up a betting house for English racing across a street from his father’s, in a urine-smelling alley. He prospered.

Assad, when his sister was being beaten with a horsewhip jumped on her husband’s back. The husband drew a gun and pulled the trigger. The shot missed and ever since there has been a rift between the families nevertheless no matter they stand united against the rest of the island’s community. The two families compete to see which one can make more money and the faster.

Saffie accused one of his uncles of using water trucks to wet the race-track the night before the most prestigious horse race, which caused his horse, called Peace Envoy to lose because it did not like a soft track. Peace Envoy came back the next year with the same jockey and won and Saffie insisted, in public that it was the soft track of the year before.

Rivalry came out of the success of a fast food restaurant chain started by Assad’s family. They made a lot of money and opened branch after branch and from there they branched out into the one-armed bandit business. They have made a fortune aided by government protection.

The two families wheeled and dealt their way into power. They sat on fences and greased their way with whichever party was in government then did everything to keep that party in power. They pull purse strings of politicians of both parties. Things changed, when the Democrats lost and Labour came in.

Casino gambling was illegal but the families were so sure that it would be legalised that they brought in gambling tables and foreign croupiers to train local girls. Tables were housed in a basement of a family’s hotel. When Dean of the Anglican Cathedral organised against casinos and crashed that idea the tables were sold and taken out to sea and transferred to another ship. The Labour Prime Minister was involved but his murder forced them to change their tactics. Hence they courted the brother of the deputy Prime Minister and weaved him into their web of deals. The Labour government recently sold them government land under market value because, as a higher-up and close-up government ally suggested, they financed the last elections for Labour.

The Labour Attorney General, as the poor people, who sold food in the nearby bus stand next to head office of their business, testify spent most mornings upstairs there and he and his wife, a judge, are entertained on weekends regularly at Assad’s beach house.

Saffie married a brunette now blonde, mixture of German Jew and Cherokee Indian, from Michigan with a BA degree in English Literature from Michigan State University. When Saffie comes home he wanted his wife to be there. If he arrives unexpectedly she must come to immediately. She is allowed no friends to the house and he dislikes her to talk on the telephone.

Unlike Anna, who was in a more forceful and prominent position in the community - she taught at an elite school and therefore Assad could not afford to rub parents or children a wrong way and had to confine his abuse to certain perimeters. Saffie degrades his wife any which way and everywhere and is no respecter of person, place or time.

Anna was born in Trinidad and lived in Jamaica. Her father’s mother, Anastasia Gallovea, was Czechoslovakian. Anastasia was part of the Barusch movement, which started in Czechoslovakia. It was the first resistance to Hitler’s Third Reich. Chamberlain sacrificed the movement in his appeasement of Hitler. Anastasia was not a Jew but was thrown into the Auschwitz concentration camp for her involvement in the movement. She was scheduled for the ovens but the Germans pulled her out because she was a surgical nurse to tend to their wounded soldiers.

She saved the lives of her daughter and a Jewish friend,who were also at Auschwitz. She threw them naked onto a truck filled with dead bodies, hid clothes between corpses for them, instructed them that the truck would dump its load at a location that night but bulldozers would not arrive to bury the bodies until the next morning. The girls played dead until they were dumped and the truck left; they picked themselves up and escaped into the forest.

The war ended but Anastasia remained in Prague to continue the fight, when her son and other family immigrated to the Caribbean. Anna ended up in Jamaica, where she married Bjorn Bjerkham. They had two children. There she worked for Metro Goldwyn Meyer (MGM) as Yvette Mineux’s, the actress, stand-in and appeared in the movie “The Mercenaries” starring Rod Taylor and Jim Brown; she was the Silver Top Gin Girl; advertised dairy products and was the Lipton’s Tea Girl. She came to Barbados. Her husband was unfaithful; the marriage broke and she found herself in Assad’s arms.

Saffie’s wife, like Anna, is good-looking. She was intrigued by Saffie’s lifestyle - the bodyguard and the briefcase chained to the hand. Soon both young women discovered about these two young men’s need to make them feel small, turn then into nothing; dominate them and make them useless.

In my case it was about:


“You have to stop writing your books. You see they nearly kill your son this time. If you do not stop writing they are going to kill him.” Said my lawyer, who has obviously no feelings. A Queen’s Council, who is also a Dr. not of law but West Indian history, caused and allowed the brutality, which my son and I received, when he took seven years to get my case before the courts. He created the impression of a woman, who stands alone and is therefore outside of the law and so in reaction to the words in my books, blood ran from my son’s nose, his cheek broken in three places, from a blow to the face with a brick by a low class black man whom Zionist used.

“Let us win one case first then we will find conspiracy charges against the Attorney General.” He had persuaded and then he held me to ransom. My Q.C. is also a disgraced Labour ex-minister, a pawn to them and part of their travelling road show. They look for more avenues to amass more money and have shown that they have not a clue about the principles a government must adhere to if it is to avoid at least the perception of corruption. They are unable to deal with the present political crisis.

“What about freedom and liberty?” My middle class friend, Tito, asked him.

“Nobody in Barbados interested in freedom and liberty.”

He has a mouth, he can say anything he feels but if it were him, then he would believe in justice. He has never been put under fire but, when he receives the end of the stick it will be seen if he believes in justice or not. The plaintiff is the person, who believes in justice not the defendant. He is of course, concerned about his own freedom and liberty. Freedom, in some cases, is a matter of knowing a good lawyer and the whole bunch of politicians are lawyers; fail as a lawyer then go into politics.

They do not give a fart in a hurricane about the island and are there to line their pockets and to provide government contracts, jobs and houses for their supporters. Make your packet and when the time comes escape off the island; live off dividends with your wife and, of course, hope that, where they go will be freedom, liberty and justice.

He could afford to reign back and puts his feet on his desk and say: “There ain’t no middle class anymore everybody middle class now. We take care of that.”

“He should be given a tin desk.” I thought of his desk carved from a beautiful mahogany tree.

I was brought up and trained in an era, where we accepted and believed that if some one had not broken any written law they were safe and the government - the only one, who can arrest being roughly called the government - would detain accused and put them before the court.

Fear comes from an era, where everything an individual does or says is criticised in some way and governments try to show that the system cannot be beaten. They believe that they can exhaust me but I went on to win my first case; that was once - and I will beat them twice and again and again.

“I want that.” Adrian Lovell, the marshal in charge admitted, a marshal said in front of him, and pointed to my son’s boxing bag. When they left they took my son’s complete gym with them - weights, punching bag everything disappeared.

“Blacks carrying it,” a female marshal said. “We cannot afford people like you to suppress we.”

“If you barely miss and touch me, I am going kill you.” Said another larded female marshal. “You was somebody but you ain’t nobody now. You ain’t got any money. We got you now.” Chorused male and female.

Ioka, a Rastafarian acquaintance, said that, when police arrested her she mouthed off and one ran towards her and, she said, she thought that he would stamp on the wall next to her to scare her but instead he landed his two feet into her abdomen. They did the same to me only in a different way, these men and women, who derive enjoyment from inflicting pain.

My Q.C has not brought a case against the Attorney General as yet although he has a certificate from a prison doctor that I was beaten. He told me that he had lost it at one time without a thought of what that reaction would have to me, my son and my family.

These things take place because most women are like Saffie’s wife, weak-willed, will crack, and will say anything under pressure otherwise she would have beaten Saffie long ago.

They are not exposed because the editors of newspapers, who should do their jobs and write about these mistakes take favours from the rich and forceful, who step in with their money and what should be reported is not.

The state of freedom and democracy is immature and editors and journalists have no moral restrains - publishers bedded several woman on staff; journalist accused of rape and publishers paying out victims. An editor, Roxanne Gibbs, born in Guyana, and the sister-in-law of her husband’s brother mother-in-law, the wife of a permanent secretary involved with the disappearance in 1973, of a friend of the sister-in-law; when one columnist reviewed our book “Boys in the Band” that dealt with the matter told the writer that if she had realised that the journalist had written about the book she would have pulled the column even though she acknowledge that the column was not libellous. Amazingly the journalist did nothing. Gibbs started life as a secretary and moved ahead with speed and alacrity. Her writing demonstrates what is obvious.

My Q.C has done most of a handful of constitutional cases since independence so there is no choice for lawyers, who by their own admission are fearful of constitutional matters because they are semi-political and have to be by virtue that politicians are people that frame a constitution and change it.

There is no justice without discipline. There are no standards or procedures adhered to by the High Court for behaviour and conduct of its officers. Thirty people including ten lawyers waited for two hours for a judge, who hid in his chambers announced through his clerk that he had tripled booked and we, including Queen’s Counsels, would have to return to the registry for new dates. These people can afford to sit oblivious of mankind for they produce nothing and work is undone. They take eighteen years to give deeds; take money first and it is impossible to get them to start.

My QC destroyed justice, when he allowed a case, which I finally won, against the Attorney General for a breech of constitutional rights to take seven years to be heard. A case so important that it was reported in the Caribbean Law Review and was about courts being used for political ends; it is about men, who shrink from no crime by which they can gain wealth and position. These forces are burnt on the spit, when ground is stood an integrity and dignity is maintained.


In 1973 police took over control and post independent corruption began in earnest under the Democrats with a disappearance of a young homosexual socialite and slaughter weeks later of a police station sergeant, who was in charge of the investigation and cracked this case. The story goes that the morning that the sergeant requested arrest warrants and men and cars to execute those warrants, he was relieved of his duty and forthwith sent home. What is certain is that soon after police officers with rifles led by a deputy commissioner of police arrived outside his home; shot and killed a bystander, one of his children, wounded another and executed him. (See Boys in the Band by Tatanka Yotanka 1998)

The disappeared man was a lighting man for a large charity show, which included several models, dancers, Anna was a co-producer, and I was a model. Many knew nothing of the behind-the-scenes, wild, private parties with homosexual members of the political establishment, lawyers, and lesbians.

Another producer of the show was my roommate and had recently returned from holiday. When she recovered belongings, which she had left in the disappeared man’s home, she discovered there video recordings of the then Chief Justice, now recently deceased, in bed with little boys and the in-law of Gibbs, the aforementioned editor. While others have kept quiet and were provided with irresistible contracts of mutual dependence this began the first grounds for years of harassment.

My QC professed to know nothing of the Chief Justice’s predicament, nevertheless he, then a young lawyer and in the opposition Labour party was first to break the news, when he telephone another long time lover of the wife with the Chief Justice and told him that the man had disappeared and movies he had taken had been found.

The long time lover and the wife were young lovers before he had left to study abroad. He had in the first place taken her away from the boyfriend, who would become Chief Justice. She wrote to him in England to say that she had taken up with a new man and that he had proposed marriage and asked what to do. The angry answer was to do what she wanted and she married the man but on his return they continued to be intimate and so too did her earlier boyfriend, the Chief Justice and others.

The wife had told the long time lover previously about the recordings and that the now-disappeared man had taken them to the Commissioner of Police and tried to use them as leverage to gain residency in the island for his Trinidadian lover, who had been refused previously.

After the conversation, the long time lover telephoned the wife and found her in a state of anxiety and in need of advice because police had questioned her three or four times while at her mother’s house. He advised her to tell her husband and whatever her husband said she was to feign anger and cut him short. She had some leverage in that he had taken her and showed her her husband’s love nest, which he built with the same house plans as his and his wife’s so that, when he was in either house he was, for all intents and purposes, in the same space. Her husband, she reported back, said that if her name did not make it on the street then he would maintain the status quo but if her name became public he would kill her and shoot himself.

The Solicitor General had telephoned an in-law of the wife’s and informed him of her appearance on tapes and the longtime lover also told her that she must tell her daughter and her son; to find any excuse to say that she and her husband had not been getting on from the inception of the marriage and that she had to look elsewhere for sex.

“They told lies on me.” She told them.


In the late 70’s the Labour Prime Minister wanted to pretend that an international small arms broker and MI6 agent, Sydney Burnett-Alleyne, planned to invade the country and my QC brought up a bill in parliament to try Burnett-Alleyne for treason. The number of weapons, which the Martinique government listed in whose waters Alleyne was arrested could not have taken over a well-armed house so Labour lied. They did not think that they would win another election and had to have some one to oppose so they built the Alleyne story with the intention to declare a state of emergency.

It is a technique - if there is a menace or threat then “vote for me,” who will protect from all these ills and woes or else the threat will burst open. Lots of governments have done and do the same thing. Bush, the son, is doing it. Everybody threatens the United States of America and he has succeeded because people have turned away from a real issues and will vote for him.

In later years, when questioned for a book about the issue, my Q.C. claimed that he did not know any details of the matter but that the Prime Minister told him to table the motion and he did so with no accompanying information for a crime that would bring a death sentence. That behaviour is lackey, a running dog that will do what it is told to do.

Our parliament cannot operate without these kinds of people: the Labour Prime Minister was a master at that far better than his father, the first black Premier, who was simple and had he not been black man would not have made it to Premier. The father became Prime Minister of the West Indies Federation and succeeded in destroying it.


There are two kinds of lawyers in the island: one is a cowboy; cowboy because he knows, who the good guy is and who is the bad guy, so he does not have to hear any evidence. They are usually trained at the University of the West Indies. The others are trained at the Inns of Court in London and do not know, who is the bad boy and have to listen to evidence.

This natural justice is pooh-poohed: get in power and you can say anything - you pass a Bill and in that bill you say that Angela Cole is guilty and she is automatically convicted. The Bill is called a Bill of Attender.

The rule at Common law in England was that the king could do no wrong - the king cannot be guilty of treason because the king cannot be disloyal to the king but Oliver Cromwell brought Charles I into the House of Commons to have a trial and Charles said:

“I am the King I can do no wrong;” Cromwell brought in a Bill of Attender, which said that Charles I was guilty of treason and Charles was convicted. Cromwell said he was guilty and so he was beheaded.

Very few lawyers in the island know legal history; they do not read but find questions and ready answers. Those, who went to law school have pre-digested notes made up from previous examination, taken the last ten years questions, got answers, read them, went into and passed their exams. They know not about the Court of Pie Powder (a corruption of the French word for foot and a special court created for merchandising)

When she could not get at me she harassed my son: “You are your mother’s caretaker.” She put my son in docks and told him that he was responsible for me because he signed a BDS$700.00 bail. For the third time she sent her thieving marshals for whom she signed an illegal warrant. Leader of this gang, the Chief Marshall, has been subsequently held on charges of theft for other instances to other people during the execution of his duties.

“Why can’t you send the marshal to his home?” My son’s head master said. A third time they came for him. “You are harassing this young man and you are harassing the children and the school.”

“You are not fulfilling your responsibility. What is wrong with your mother?” She continued.

“I am not going to talk about my mother in open court.” My son said.

Once again my QC had waited until the evening before to tell me through his secretary after I called that he would not be in court. There was no excuse and he had no arrangements for a junior to attend court nor had they notified the court.

“When I leave the island, I organized for my clients to see another doctor. I have a responsibility to my clients.” A doctor said. I had shown him my wounds, which her marshals had inflicted on me and he gave me a certificate for stress that I could not attend court until my lawyer could attend court. For this the magistrate sent the marshals for my son.

So many times did he disappear mysteriously and not turn up to court that the police did not believed that he was my lawyer. “He sick.” They said with a knowing laugh as my QC lost pounds rapidly, looked haggard and ill and was constantly out of the island, disappeared suddenly without explanation and was hospitalised with respiratory ailments.

It is reasonable to ask what sickness my QC has since he gets worst and from all the drugs he would have to have pumped into him the side effects will make him less accurate. The statements he has made e.g. “It is only the middle class that interested in the drug trade.” “If you have slot machines you may as well have casino gambling,” have been referred to by columnists in the context of AIDS: one wrote that what he said was the equivalent of someone with Herpes being told by a doctor to have unprotected sex with someone, who is HIV positive.

The female magistrate has signs of childhood malnourishment: emaciation, bony calves and narrow shoulders. She sucked her teeth and began her morning session late as she always did. Her voice was most upsetting: nasal tone, grammatical syntax, rhythm and vernacular.

“Send he up fuh three weeks.” She grunted. “Wuh yu got? Yu can’t pay wid a house. Wuh you got dat wurth dat.”

“Can you speak in a proper manner?” I asked when my turn came.

“I wud send you up to jail.” She said.

“She suffers from asthma and you lucky she did not pick her nose in front of you. Her voice is something else.” Another police officer said.

She is a new West Indian campus lawyer that the politician promised, if elected, free education but did not care and in the name of egalitarianism let standards drop. These new lawyers think: four years at the university, two years at the law school, sell yourself to the authorities and into the care of a political party, manage to get membership in a masonic lodge and get ahead: money, mortgage and an expensive car. They are without knowledge of themselves; do not study the law of the island; do not search records; know nothing of local history; are ignorant, idle, lazy and shallow. The lawyering class is an obstacle because they will not risk anything for themselves or anybody.

“There is a hierarchy.” Said an old British trained lawyer. He claimed that this magistrate was his friend and that he telephoned her for bail for a Syrian drug dealer second time he was charged with running hundreds of thousands of dollars in cocaine and she gave him bail on the telephone. That drug runner is now serving a life sentence for trafficking.

This same woman signed an order in her court on a case that was brought already in the High Court.


There is a need to replace Plato not to copy him and as Augustus said: “I am that which I am.” We are that which is divine, poets and having climbed to the top of a mountain one does not jump off from where one walked up. Our circumstances do not define us for :-

Before 1970, British Overseas Airways Corporation, (BOAC), was allowed to monopolize the Atlantic route to and from the entire Caribbean. The Barbados/London route was completely controlled. BOAC charged twice the rate and sometimes three times the rate per mile that they charged on other international routes. With high fares and mail carrying contracts they had no great desire to expand into a rapidly emerging mass tourism market. Travel to London from Barbados was therefore limited to mainly the rich and a few reduced emigrant one-way fares, which they sold on some flights for locals, who wanted to emigrate. International Caribbean Airways (ICA) would soon change all that.

I left school in 1965 and worked until 1970 with British West Indian Airways (BWIA), which handled BOAC and Leeward Island Air Transport (LIAT), in all aspects of the airline from reservations, controls, greeting and meeting VIPs at the airport and managing their offices at the Hilton Hotel and the West Coast.

In December 1970 I stood at the arrival gates of Seawell International Airport and watched the first International Caribbean Airways (ICA) flight, a Boeing 707, from London and Luxembourg, land. When the passengers disembarked the Prime Minister and also Minister of Civil Aviation, Errol Barrow, walked up the back steps of the aircraft and came down the front steps to flash bulbs of publicity and glory of hard work. Thus a friendship began. I had arrived to ICA months before the first flight and was given desks and a teleprinter and from that I organized marketing, sales, reservations and communications.

A socialite from Bristol, main organizing power and Managing Director, Major Norman Ricketts looked for someone, who understood all aspects of airline business. Ricketts, with connection to the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg and the Bahamas, marketed the set up and persuaded the Grand Duchy to grant airline rights to land in Luxembourg on inexpensive fares just as they had done with International Air Bahamas a few years earlier. He also convinced P.M. Errol Barrow to allow him landing rights. Ricketts devised the image of the airline, and he loved a combination of beauty and brains. It was in his genes.

In the 18th Century, Governor Ricketts of Jamaica, Norman’s forefather, created a furore in the island, when he brought his mulatto mistress to live in a house at his offical residence at Government House, when he became Governor of Barbados. Not only did Rickett treat her as his wife he gave dignity balls at Government House. A dignity ball was an affair, which mulatto women threw and only white men could attend. The society of planters complained bitterly of Ricketts but the people loved him.

“This is the person I told you about. She could set up your airline for you.” The good looking manager of the Hilton, introduced me to Ricketts one day on the beach at his hotel, where my roommate and I spent most Saturday mornings before we moved to the west coast beaches.

The airline began as Caribbean International Airways but when it was realized that the acronym was CIA the name was changed. After an interview the reservations and sales supervisor post was offered to me. The other employee other than the manager, who had run Air Malta and myself, was a secretary, who had no airline experience.

“Stop your checks behind me. You hired me to do a job and if I do not perform properly then fire me but leave me alone.”

An arms dealer, Geoffrey Edwards, provided start-up money, which was not a lot. ICA would serve the Barbados/Luxembourg/London route fortnightly. Along with Freddie Laker’s aeroplanes we set up a cost-saving structure that allowed bargain fares, at a profit, on the Barbados/Luxembourg/Barbados sector.

Freddie Laker was a maverick, whose early career epitomised an entrepreneurial, buccaneering spirit, which the airline industry was rapidly losing to the international airline cartel, International Airline Transport Authority, (IATA). Laker came from a working class background in Kent, and flew as a pilot and engineer in World War II. After the war he bought some old planes from BOAC, and used them in the 1948 Berlin airlift, a chance windfall for lone air operators. His operation was eventually bought out, in 1960, by the new British United Airlines, which the Tory Government encouraged to compete with the state airlines. Laker became chief executive of BUA, and there developed his style of raising money and bargaining with governments. Half of BUA’s revenue was provided by troop transport contracts. In 1965, at forty-three years old, he left BUA and set up his own Laker Airways to cater for the new package holiday market and used second hand planes to undercut prices of big airlines. In 1969 he leased two Boeing 707s, and began flying charters across the North Atlantic. A long and bitter war by the big airline cartel ensued as they tried to maintain their monopoly of exclusive routes and high fares.

IATA, in 1953, stipulated that scheduled international flights, be run by airlines flying a national flag, and that all charters or non-schedule flights across the Atlantic could only be permitted for groups and clubs with an authentic “affinity.” The rule was impossible to enforce but kept all scheduled cross Atlantic flights in the hands of the big airline cartel. In the fifteen years after the enforcement of this rule, charter companies grew up outside the cartel, undercut scheduled airlines and usher in an age of a tourist market.

Some “affinities” as they were called were genuine, reuniting immigrant families across the Atlantic, but a whole industry grew up to devise and advertise dubious clubs, which could qualify for cheaper charter fares. The game reached a climax in 1971, when an American Group called The Left Hand Club was raided on their aircraft and a quarter of the passengers were ordered off for dubious affinities. The travelling public insisted on trying every form of charter. Eventually affinity rules were abandoned and scheduled airlines competed with charters, using an advanced purchased excursion fare call APEX. In 1971 a bitter controversy raged between charters and big airlines that decided the fate of international tourism.

In order to qualify for scheduled Atlantic flights under IATA rules, ICA proposed a loose agreement with the Democratic government, to test the viability of the venture so as to allow the airline to go into a government majority share, after an initial run of private ownership. Passengers were transferred on to a North East plane, which flew from Luxemburg to London. The combined fares of the two flights were far below the Barbados to London IATA fare.

International Caribbean Airways wet leased - meaning all expenses were covered by Laker - a flat price to operate each flight. Under the terms of the wet lease, a Laker plane was painted and redesigned with the logo of ICA and was hosted up front by ICA staff, adorned in their Ricketts-designed uniforms. Laker tried to schedule our flights on the aircraft painted with the ICA logo. On the times that it was in use somewhere else another Laker plane, was used. The use of our painted aircraft on his other routes was free publicity.

We specialize in close personalized service, avoided the cost of buying and maintaining aircraft, yet operated under IATA rules as a scheduled flight. We appointed general sales agents all over Europe, the Caribbean and South America. Air Charter Market, and TransEuropa Germany’s largest tour companies soon began weekly block bookings; we arranged special fares based on these block bookings.

I controlled everything except financing: how ticketing was done, how to outfox BOAC, whose intention was to stop us - established and managed reservations and sales, designed all necessary office documents, drawing heavily from my days at BWIA but with improved formats and methods, hired staff and coordinated the London and Luxembourg reservation offices, the effective running of our General Sales Agents in the islands and as far as Caracas, Guyana and Surinam and devised ways to send and keep tract of messages from Venezuela to Lebanon. When flights had too few pasengers to make the flight economical, they were re-routed on BOAC and we paid the difference until after a few months the flights began to fill.

Soon we were up to three flights a week and wide-bodied aircraft. Along with the emigrant community in London, the English were some of the first to take up our cheaper fares and it was not long before even Princess Margaret, known for her tightness and attracted by the fare, travelled to and from Barbados, when she had to pay her own fare. She spent the lay-over time in Luxembourg with the Grand Duchy. The British with houses in Barbados, like farmers from Kent, who built on the Holders Hill polo ridge, and others I gave cheaper APEX fares from London even though the qualification was not met. This I did as a marketing tactic.

Germans used ICA to connect to South America, and the South Americans came to travel to Europe. The people of the islands, Trinidad, Grenada, St. Vincent, St. Lucia made connections to our flight - all in order to use the inexpensive fare. We had a flourishing trade through Paramaribo, Surinam to Holland.

To be cost effective, there was no town office - it was less expensive to pay travel agents commissions.- only a small airport office with a small highly trained staff, able to be reservation and ticketing staff in the day and station assistants capable of checking in passengers when the flights arrived. The configuration of the aircraft was changed: first class was taken out and the maximum number of economy seats allowed by IATA installed. The integrity of the image was maintained by having on-board literature printed with ICA’s logo and Laker Airways literature removed. Four Barbadians girls were hired, beautiful white, beautiful black and beautiful oriental and mixed raced. They were trained and placed up front to serve passengers and Laker hostesses, included in the wet lease, were placed in the backgroound.

I beat BOAC at their own game.I found ways to write the Luxemburg/London portion of the journey on North East Airlines on an acceptable ticket. At first I wrote the portion on BWIA and LIAT tickets and BOAC, who owned North East found a rule by IATA to stop the LIAT tickets. Then they found another IATA rule to stop the BWIA ticketing. Then I collected the BWIA ticket at the airport and wrote one Miscellaneous Charges Order to pay North East for all passenger tickets for the connecting flights and got the passengers ticketed on arrival in Luxembourg. I kept one step ahead. I sat in the North East office in Brussels apologised and took the blame for mistakes I deliberately made.

Later, an English ex-patriate, took over the sales department: reservations and operations were too vital to change me. The two of us arranged the first promotional tour ever of Europe in 1972 - Luxembourg, Munich, Frankfurt, Zurich, West Berlin, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Dusseldorf, and Brussels - and took along the Tourist Board and the Hotel Association.

There’s a brown girl in the ling

Tra la la la la

There’s a brown girl in the ling

Tra la la la la

There’s a brown girl in the ling

Tra la la la la

Tra la la la la

For she loves sugar and I love spice

Show me your motion

You think I making fun

Show me your motion

You thinking I making fun

For she loves sugar and I love spice

“The things I do for my country.” I said. Complaints about there being prettier and younger girls than me to the director of the show were to no avail. She took one look and consigned me to be the “Brown Girl in The Ling.” That meant to parade in a bikini as centre attraction of the first number every other Saturday night at a Hilton hotel fashion show.

Sometimes ICA held important meetings of executives with tour operators and representatives from as far a field as Lebanon. I attended those meeting, ran home, washed my hair, and became part of the fashion show at the Hilton, to which my bosses and agents were invited.

The two lives met, mixed and intermingled very well.

Under my stewardship the airline increased arrivals from Europe by 30 percent but I was fired, when a new black, Barbadian manager took over. The major airline power and influence in the West Indies was British Overseas Airways Cooperation (BOAC) now British Airways, (BA) and the British gosvernment was to all extents and purposes its owner. The forces that dominate had decided that the Caribbean could only support one feeder airline, namely BOAC, and thereby decided to eliminate all others by foul means and they succeeded beyond their wildest dreams.

Later I discovered that BOAC had paid BWIA to not operate from the Caribbean to London. The airline was destined to die.. The Labour government came to power and it was done on the cheap. The best thing to do was to get a Zionist, who had been charged with trafficking marijuana, and my QC, the new chairman of the airline, when he was the government minister responsible for international travel to kill the airline. Thirty years later the people, who have benefited from that work are the British, who pay half as much to holiday here as West Indians pay to holiday in Britain and everyone says: “You cannot do anything about it. That is how it is.”

What My QC did

“A bizarre Caribbean Airways financial scheme has been uncovered committing the Barbados Government to paying hundreds of thousands of dollars for empty seats flown to this island by Birgenair and a German tour operator. However, as result of on-going investigations, the project appears to have been aborted before take-off. Nevertheless, questions are being raised as to why this island’s representatives considered saddling Barbados with such a log-sided deal. … The entire Caribbean Airways board resigned recently in the wake of allegations of inappropriate and excessive spending by the board.” The Barbados Advocate 15th June 1995.

A point in assessment of people, not on basis of class but on the basis of development and culture. It takes a lot more to be a lawyer than to pass an exam. If people have not developed themselves to a certain level of understanding it does not matter if they have heaven and earth or did or did not get a law degree or pass a law examination or did not study the whole course of thirteen subjects and did not get a LLB or a Doctor of Laws or did not qualified and eat his dinners. It is about allowing oneself to be a slave and to make others slaves. This is a very difficult position to sell to people like my QC, who not only was forced to resign as chairman of the board of the airline but was forced to resign in disgrace as a minister because of his lying over the airline.

Board member Ms. Elaine Gooding who is also Dr. Cheltenham’s secretary was away on holiday when this newspaper tried to reach her … Apart from financial details published yesterday, our investigations also reveal that the identities of members of the airline’s full board of directors were not known by government until after the Advocate’s report was published. These directors include the secretary in Dr. Cheltenham’s law office” … The Barbados Advocate June 1995

Miss Gooding could not have qualified to be a director and did not even have the qualifications of an employee. Sexual intercourse to gain power goes back to pre-Roman time of the Greeks when they did it to get to the top and had to learn to be a “good woman.” The Greek Empire had artisan women, who worked by “do so an so for me and get a work out.”

A telephone call to my QC’s office found Miss Gooding at the other end of the line and no matter if it was me or another lawyer’s secretary or Saffie’s wife or a fellow journalist she abused.

“They think they are lawyers.” Said one top lawyer’s secretary who said she had long refused to speak with Miss Gooding who also was loosing weight and was very ill. “Everybody knows I sick.” Gooding said.

“There are things that you do not like to do that you must. Dr. Cheltenham cannot go to court tomorrow and I have not seen Mr. Scott so I do not know if he can come with you. You just go and I will call when you get there and get an adjournment.” Said Sophie, my QC’s twenty-eight year old secretary the day before a scheduled court appearance when she tried to hide that her boss was ill again.

“Sophie, I called to find out when is my next court date.”

“Mrs Cole, I do not know what to tell you. You did not go to court on Thursday like I told you.”

“Why are you abusing me because I chose not to do something you told me to do.”

Greek whores were fighters and did not spare the sword, when they get to the top they try to get rid of more attractive, more intelligence women because they feared men would want them. Individuality, audacity, courage and bravery, strong will, free speech such characteristics, they seek to destroy.

It is a New World Order - a class war: past-envy and resentment against the middle class. In early days, when there was give and take and people were much closer to each other; they knew one another better; they knew how far they could go and only went that far. Universal franchise meant that everybody had a vote and politicians tried to level down the classes, that are identified still by family, background and tradition

They know their family’s history for generations and have connections to sustain them. They are not only known by money, houses and cars as so many blacks are - big car, big house to make a point; it means something to them - an achievement and to lose it is like some one, who has had his doctorate taken away.

“In order to achieve a totally predictable economy the low-class element of the society must be brought under total control, i.e., must be housebroken, trained, and assigned a yoke and long-term social duties from a very early age, before they have an opportunity to question the propriety of the matter. In order to achieve such conformity, the lower-class family unit must be disintegrated by a process of increasing preoccupation of the parents and the establishment of government-operated day-care centres for the occupationally orphaned children. The quality of education given to the lower classes must be of the poorest sort, so that the mote of ignorance isolating the inferior class from the superior class is and remains incomprehensible to the inferior class. With such an initial handicap, even brighter lower class individuals have little if any hope of extricating themselves from their assigned lot in life. This form of slavery is essential to maintaining some measure of social order, peace and tranquillity for the ruling upper class.” …Behold a Pale Horse by William Cooper.

This excerpt is from a secret document of the New World Order. It is classified as Top Secret and titled Silent Weapons for Quiet Wars, an introductory programming manual, Operations Research, Technical Manual TM-SW79061.


My QC turned out to be a good courtroom hack and very capable but what was seen of him in court was what was induced by this lawyer’s training for as soon as he took off his robes his behaviour changes. In the court room he abused no one and called no one names. He presented laws and precedents to support his arguments and was helpful to the judge.

The lawyer from the Attorney General laughed at his presentation, could not find his documents and borrowed copies from us. On the opening day he did not present a brief. He took off his shoes and mashed the heel with his feet. He gesticulated with opened hands continuously and sucked his teeth and questioned documents, which he himself prepared and signed. With dyed hair falling into patches he muttered “foolishness” under his breath and rocked back and forth with phoney laughter. At the end of the day the judge asked if he could expect his brief by the next day.

“They concocted this affidavit.” He charged.

The judge told him that he must be capable of more elegant language and pointed out that the affidavit was filed one year before the Attorney General filed theirs so that was not possible. A marshal, who was present in the court that day, whose uniform made him look for something on which to feel superior. He moved around the court in two-minute intervals, fidgeted; looked and scowled and came closer. “I am in charge here. If you want to do anything in this court you have to ask me.”

“Fuck off!” I mouthed as he came close and the judge looked somewhere else.

My Q.C. argued that natural justice was elementary decency and fairness, that a magistrate cannot look at someone; do not tell them a word or ask a question; do not ask the person for an explanation and decide that they are guilty. The Attorney General argued that laws of natural justice were not universal and did not apply to me. He argued that incarceration meant no loss of liberty, was a benefit and a magistrate has right to do as he pleased in his court. The Attorney General clearly thinks that he has law and he can do with it as he wants and that included dragging me before a court in a night dress and barefooted - as a clerk of that court recorded in her affidavit and having his police officers comment on my breast and lack of panties. They believe that women are their bitches, “beards” or high-class sluts.

Saffie’s wife, Jerri Hall and Lady St. John and many other women have betrayed themselves in face of threats and allowed such behaviour to go unpunished. Anna was quiet because of her children and threats.

These forces are difficult to go against because society is in a pursuit of a fast buck and full of uncaring people while ministers are increasingly under an illusion that parliamentary statue is the sole source of law, which means they believe they make law but behind statue is precedent-based common law, which predates Parliament. Behind common law are principles of natural justice, which are foundations of judicial review. These are basic rules of fair play such as a requirement to hear both sides. Since the origins of parliament, judges have used these principles to decide what they believe parliament has done and they are a real protection against arbitrary powers.


I was awarded a paltry $35,000.00. The law in Barbados gave six weeks to appeal and no time limit to be paid by government and the then Attorney General telephone to say that he had approved my payment but he left on vacation for the month and filed an appeal before he left.

I wanted to appeal the low sum but my Q.C. said that since the Attorney General had appealed that matter would be dealt with under this appeal. After more than a year he then advised that the Attorney General was no longer going to appeal and that it was too late for me to put in my appeal. He played me for an ass with theoretical babble. He has not got police nor the Attorney General to look into the theft nor has he got them on police brutality. It is his duties as a lawyer to report any criminal act of which he knows but he has accepted the selective justice meted out to me and my family. He filed a case against the Attorney General for the theft but not about my brutalization and the three years limit has passed he said he could file later and two years later has not.

“The quickest way to get any Barbadian lawyer to work if you are a woman is to give him a piece of pussy.” Said Mr. Brown, the Attorney General’s lawyer, who defended the case.

It is this obsession with sex that sees political elite bedding their friend’s women and wives. One magistrate sat in court and sexually harassed witnesses. He called them back and told them how lovely they looked and advised accused with whom they came to bring them back into court.

“When these women let you get away with that behaviour I hope you do not bring it to me.” I said. He threatened to charge me with contempt to court.

Compounding all of this is an attitude of males towards widespread lesbians, in parliament and a network of high profile lesbians.

“I see how two women can get to like each other.” Mr. Brown continued.

She was a hairdresser and model whose theme song was Tom Jones’ “Daughter of Darkness..” Her salon was just as her home. She is still beautiful, dark-skinned with long and kinky hair, skinny, long legs and when she modelled shorts she always wore them over a pair of long pants; in later years she gained weight and was able to take off the pants. She was darkly-attractive, always wore black and her home was decorated with prints of wild cats. In that free atmosphere of sex in the 70s she was freest and darkest. She bedded men and women freely, equally and openly and usually lived with a man, who accepted her lifestyle. There were a host of younger women, who were her girls.

“I used to ……. that, left right and centre.” She said as a female magistrate, who had introduced herself as: “I went to school with you; I was two years younger but you would not know me, I was not anybody then,” left the salon. Next time she saw me in her court and she did not speak.

“........ tell me to tell you that she sorry that she did not speak to you in court, but she say to say nothing and she will fix everything.” The Daughter of Darkness telephoned to say hours later.

“How dare she offer to corrupt the justice system. Tell her to fuck herself.” Later the same magistrate threatened to jail my innocent son. It was another lesbian-behaving magistrate, who remanded me.

Lesbians ganged up. Bull-dyke women paraded me and at the prison everything was designed and done to demoralise. I saw a woman’s flesh being eaten by worms and men making women live in hell. Politicians should guard against such corruption in the judiciary but how can they when the Attorney General fosters corruption and torture. The court has not protected its dignity.

The Attorney General became Chief Justice and a new female Attorney General took over and refused to pay. Most lawyers receive awards in two months. The only recourse was to take the government to the Privy Council in London at enormous expense.

My Q.C got me out of jail but much to my annoyance, decided to go through the back door and speak to the new Attorney General and begged her to pay me. I wanted nothing to do with that. A court has been used in a most undignified way. If court fines and the fine is not paid then the court jails the guilty until the fine is paid because that is a direct challenge to the court’s authority; it is called contempt of court.

The Supreme Court of Barbados made a decision and Attorney Generals should not be able to use the court because I write about them in my books. The matter is between the court that is the crown and the person that has been told by a decision of a court that they have to do whatever a court decides. The Attorney General should have been put away until she had purged her contempt.

My QC is not sincere - a hyena, which is family to the mongoose not as he looks family to the dog, is a coward. Ha! Ha! Ha! - does not face a wildebeest alone; does not take that kind of chance but gangs-up. The head hyena is always a female and it is difficult to trace a female line. The Attorney General, after my temper caused confrontations, paid. My Q.C.’s fees, paid for in the award, were more than my award.


The army’s flank had been destroyed and the fear was like Wellington’s. My case is about a state’s right to look at somebody and tell without a word that they are guilty.

What my QC left out of the proceedings is that, out of an act of kindness, I inherited these thieving bailiffs and marshals who tried to steal a computer of Barbados’ greatest artist ever, Timothy Callender. These men had gone into his house and stolen before and six weeks before his death he had come to my house on the compound, where he was in a process of obtaining assistance and in turn, after his death, Saffie’s wife and I would be raided by these men and women intent on thieving.

Two days after Callender’s death a bailiff, who had been caught on a ladder outside Callender’s home in an attempt to steal, armed with a letter from a development Bank, a national organization, whose officer appears to have been in league with him, arrived at my house with no authority and I demanded he leave my fenced compound and did not run in a corner so he showed me what he could do through his police and magistrate buddies.

His lodge buddies arrested me and his court buddy, a magistrate, said: “if you interfere with the sons you interfere with the father,” took away my rights. Acting Magistrate Clyde Nichols’ decisions were wrong, “unreasonable, irregular, improper exercise of his power. No magistrate could on the evidence reasonably or regularly or properly have formed such a decision.” His actions were unconstitutional.

Over the years I have had cases brought against me and all have been dropped. I have never been convicted. Every lawyer that worked on my case refused to demand files, which Special Branch would have kept on me, which would have shown a conspiracy of many years.

After the publication of The Boys in the Band - members of the police entered bookstores and threatened proprietors to make them remove the book. One bookstore owner capitulated because of a bank overdraft, one because his son was a closet homosexual another because she was a woman and was threatened with a visit to her home. One told them to put it in writing and they never returned.

This is an infringement of constitutional rights to earn a living. Books are my living and are sought after not only in the island but overseas. One person claimed to be a research officer of a big movie director and said that he would have been interested in making movies from my book. There has been silence from that person.

A lawyer overseas and former Solicitor General Woodbine Davis have ruled that the books are not libellous but are prima facie case of murder, which means that there is enough evidence that an Attorney General has to act to prove or disprove charges. There is also the public right’s to know, instead Attorney Generals have devised all sorts of methods short of murder to destroy the writers.

These actions stem from those that evidence shows should be on trial for murders, conspiracy to murder and aiding and abetting. There is no statue of limitation on murder so these matters remain justifiable and charges can be brought at any time.

The Attorney General’s lawyer wore his lodge ring. Every legal officer, except my Q.C. that dealt with my case was a member of a Masonic lodge. One we had written about as the lawyer in the book, Farnum’s Land, under the pen name Tatanka Yotanka.

My investigations revealed him to be a member of a lodge that murdered a niece of the main protagonist of the book so efficiently that there was no autopsy report and there remains no death certificate. Magistrate Nicholls tried to bum him on to me but I refused. A few months later I saw the lawyer in the street and said “Is your name ............?’

“You should have asked my name then.” He said.

He has been appointed a judge and was pictured in a newspaper and reported as having reached a 32nd degree of Freemasonry. This means that he has had a sword placed to his heart, was blindfolded and took a blood-curdling oath, which said that he was to be loyal to his fellow lodge members up to and including murder and treason under pain of horrible death.

After five dates all of which Alleyne did not turn up and after Nicholls took away my freedom Alleyne turned up and said.

“She had enough. Drop the case.” He ordered his co-conspirator.

“Only if I could sue him.” I said to my lawyer, who was half way across the court.

“She ain’t had enough yet. Put the case back on.” And Nicholls did as he was told. After three more appearances and Alleyne did not turn up Nicholls adjourned my case sine die. My lawyer meekly did nothing and at my insistence had to apply to have it put back. After a few more time Nicholls lied that Alleyne was out of the island. “I saw him two days ago.” I lied.

Finally after many more times Alleyne came stood in the middle of the court the day and announced that he was “done with that” and Nicholls did just that - dismissed the case with a smile, did not apologise to me, did not bring a charge against the complainant for being a public nuisance and wasting the court time and my lawyer never said a word.


“I went with you to court every day in your case. You have to come with me I cannot take any more abuse.”

“I cannot call any more because I do not want to give my name. Saffie might find out.”

“Saffie, I went with your wife to court, she should reciprocate now.”

“Go fuck yourself. You are a whore.” He said.

“Like your mother?” I asked.

On this issue we parted but she returned to my home, when the same court marshals decided to plunder her too. They used the same device to arrive at her wrought iron door, which was heavier and so they could not hammer the lock off before she reached a lawyer on the telephone. She had to pledge $5,000.00 and the lawyer dealt with the matter.

She had had a botched job done on her teeth by a local dentist and a new dentist in Arizona told her that crowns that the first dentist had placed on her teeth, which had dropped off and left her mouth in a serious state and for which she had paid thousands of dollars were substandard and not the permanent ones, which he had pretended them to be.

She had written letters and there had been a dispute over $20,000.00 of the sum he had charged her. The balliff said that they had delivered her a summons and she had not turned up for court, a judgment was made and they came to loot her for the $20,000.00

The day they said that they gave her a summons she had gone to a hairdresser and spent the day at my house and to prove this we was able to present photograph that she had taken of my bruises with a newspaper for that day held next to them. We were able to blow up the photograph so that the date was readable. She had them cold and she was able to go to the high court and a judge adjourned the case.


With Richard the Lion Heart it was an eye for an eye that was when there was execution in England, before the Dark Age - kill and be killed - an injury for injury - that was thought to breed respect. Later an injury for injury was paid off in money that made things square - it was called blood money and that became a basis for compensation in English law - the basic punishment in civil law - no imprisonment. The use of the cat-o-nine-tail was abolished with Gladstone and the Victorians, which meant money was paid and that was the end of it.

Nicholls should have been fired but he believes that he has paid me and he could drag me before him again in another charade. He would have his way with me again and I would spend the next eight years of my life again trying to get justice. I refused to appear in front of him and he refused to disqualify himself from the case as is legally required. It is called to recuse.

My QC arranged to meet me outside the courtroom to have the case moved and never turned up. He abused me on the telephone and put it down in my ear. Finally I paid a man $1,000.00 to speak with him so I would have a witness. My QC told the man it was unethical for Nicholls to deal with a case against me and he would go to court and fix it. He lied and Nicholls as unbelievable as it seems issued a warrant to arrest me and my son for not appearing in front of him.

STOP PRESS ... ... Nation Newspaper June 2007

EX- Chief Marshall Appealing

“Former Chief Marshall Belfield McCollin is appealing his theft convictions and the fine, suspended sentence and community service he got for them. Yesterday, the 55 year-old Mangrove Park, St. Philip, resident was in the Court of Appeal, where his attorney *Sir Richard Cheltenham argued before Justice of Appeal Frederick Waterman, Justice of Appeal Peter Williams and Justice of Appeal John Connell.

“Sir Richard put forward seven grounds of appeal including that the trial judge committed material irregularities in the course of his summation and that the judge erred in law when he omitted to assist the jury with the interpretation and analysis of McCollin’s unsworn statement.

“Deputy Director of Public Prosecutions Donna Babb-Agard and Senior Crown Counsel Allison Seale are appearing for the Crown. “McCollin was given a three-year sentence suspended for three yeas after he was found guilty of stealing $9,965.00 from Government on December 12, 1997.

“In addition, McCollin was fined $15,000.00 in nine months, with an alternative of three years in prison and given 240 hours of community service. The presiding judge, Justice Christopher Blackman convicted, reprimanded and discharged McCollin on six other theft chares that totalled more than$6,000.00 taken between August 1999 and August 2000.”

*My Q.C. is representing the man, who used his office as Chief Marshall with help and assistance of other legal entities and the courts to create fictitious legal situations to steal millions of dollars in property from his two clients, me and my son, for whom he filed a lawsuit against the Attorney General because the Chief Marshall Belfield McCollin actions, whom he is now representing.

Chief Marshall McCollin beat up his client - written evidence of which this QC has from the prison doctor, which states that my injuries were consistent with a moderate beating and with the connivance of a female magistrate threw his client in jail

My Q.C. has failed to file the lawsuit that he said he would when he accepted the cases. The judge in the case is the same one that awarded me the paltry settlement and the case is being heard under the Chief Justice that was Attorney General, who I sued and won and has been the fountain-head of my case.

The End