Autobiography
Who KilledMiss Che Che?
An Autobiography
Episode13: Selling Drugs
I was notorious. I was labeled a murderer.There were those who were nice to me and there were some mostwho hated me. I could do nothing about that. I had to go on living.
I was taken to the police station many timesduring these months, April and June 1983, to be interviewed aboutburglaries I had never committed. I could be anywhere, simplytalking to someone, at the Disco or at a store and up comes thepolice.
"We need you at the station now!"I have never resisted. Never! I have never been violent! I wasoften irritated by the harassment but I never made it get me intotrouble. I always contained and controlled myself. Sometimes Ibelieve that they were provoking me into committing myself. Iguess that is why I am still sane and alive today despite allthe suffering. God made me strong.
The police would hold me for hours beforereleasing me, making all sorts of verbal remarks. "Don'tgo kill nobody now!" I ignored everything, said nothing,did nothing.
No one believed me and I did not tell myside of the story. I lived with all the hate and contempt thatpeople felt towards me in silence. I still live with it today,even more of it. The only person that truly believed me was Mommyand I never told her what happened the night Miss Che Che waskilled. I have only told two people, Duke and Simon, and theyturned it around on me.
But that's okay.
Sometime in June 1983, a Thursday, Nicole'sbrother Johnny and I were up all night making portions of weedand cocaine to sell the next day. Early Friday morning I toldJohnny to go home and rest and check me in the afternoon.
We were in an area of bush behind my homein Northwest Point, a part of the Land known as Kalenton Land.But Johnny would not go home so I left him there and went insidethe house to hide the drugs.
At that time, we had started using the drugsthat we were selling. I had started using cocaine after Heatherhad hurt me so badly and that was that. I could not stop. Thatis where a lot of people today, young and old, make their mistakesby turning to drugs when some sort of pressure blocks their path.
Cocaine is not the answer it is justa destroyer!
So Johnny did not go home. He said he wouldsit and watch my pigeons and if anyone came to buy he would callme. I still had my pigeons then, seventy-five of them or more,nestled in a big coop. I had sold some of the chickens and theducks and had built a larger coop because more and more youngones kept hatching. Pigeons, and most birds, only take three weeksto hatch and with so many mates I had plenty of beautiful youngones.
I remember one morning I woke up and found'snowball' my favorite pigeon, pure white, big with red eyes andpink feet, dead on the floor with his wing in the wire and antsharbored around him. I cried for that pigeon like I did for mymommy. His box was close to the edge and a cat had killed himthrough the wire of the coop. His mate was in the box with theyoung ones. As he slept a cat had gotten to him.
I had a special distaste for cats afterthat incident but somehow I got over it because cats are lovelycreatures too. Most of the paintings I've produced so far areof cats and kittens so I got over it.
So there was Johnny watching my pigeonssitting on a bench that I had built outside the coop to sit andwatch them myself. Before I had gone inside I told him to callme. I had one gram and three half grams of coke on me and hidthem in one of my four hundred cassette tapes lining the wallsof my room. Then I hit my bed and fell asleep.
I awoke to someone tapping on my window.It was Johnny. He said a white guy had pulled up in a car andwas waiting around the back of the house. My room was also inthe back but I could not see the car or the man from where I stood.
I opened the window and asked what the whiteguy wanted. Johnny said a fifty, which was half a gram. I gaveit to him through the window. He left and returned and reachedthrough the window to hand me $50. Then I heard a car drive off.
I put the money on my table, rested my jewelrybox on top of it and went back to sleep. I'm not sure how longI was sleeping but what woke me again was my sister knocking onthe door to my room yelling my name!
People never felt good when I was out ofprison. I was guilty of murder to them, especially to the police.They had reason to believe so because I had lied to them but theydid not know my reasons for doing so. The police only knew thatthey had found me with clothes from Miss Che Che's store and theyknew I had pled guilty to handling stolen goods.
I gave no explanation and it all led toconvince them that I was guilty. They had no evidence and I didnot volunteer any information. I believe they hated me more forthat. But I could not say anything! I could not!
And there were some who believed I was guiltybefore I ever appeared in court! If this had happened in timeslong gone I would have been hung without a trial! Even thoughI had a Preliminary Inquiry and was discharged because the casecould go no further, I was still guilty because I was the onlylead, the only one to blame.
There are people today who will read mybook and call me a liar.
"He's only doing this to try and lookinnocent!"
"He's a lying cold-blooded murderer!"
That's right. Blame me, kill me, denounceme. Yet it makes me no more guilty than those who call me a killer.And though I know people will form erroneous opinions it doesnot discourage me. I know it is too late now but I am still continuingto write my biography because I want everyone to know what happenedthe night Miss Che Che was killed.
If I had talked in 1982 they would haveput me away and if I had talked in my trial they would have putme away then too. People may feel good with me convicted and lockedaway in prison. Fine.
But do you know that the real killers areout there with you?
You do not know that but I do. You do nothave to believe me. I know that I'm telling the truth
Well, hate me, verbalize me, reject me,spit on me, think what you want of me, keep me in prison for halfof my life, keep me here forever! It still does not make me amurderer! And it will never change me, it will never make me violent.
Maybe some people do not want to know thetruth but you will know the truth now whether you want to or not.Oh yes, you will. I've got plenty more to tell you. And it's allmy experiences, all the truth as I witnessed it. I've got eightmore years to tell. My whole court cases, my relationships withwomen, my escapes and what really happened the night Miss CheChe died. Everything. Facts. Details. Drawings. And how it feelsto be a victim of society, ejected by society, vilified by society.
Next: Police barge into Philip's homeand demand his arrest.
*All Names have been changed to protectthe rights of individuals.
Disclaimer: The preceedingexcerpt from the Autobiography of Philip Glennan Ebanks is copyrightedby Philip Glennan Ebanks and does not necessarily reflect theviews of Cayman Net News, CNN employees or its affiliates. CaymanNet News does not accept responsibility for opinions expressedin this series.©