By James M Bodden III

Junior and Mae walk into the bank with stress on their heart. They know it makes no sense but what choice did they have. As they sat down they could tell by the tight breathing of the loan officer, that all was not well. The grim look in her face confirmed Junior and Mae’s fear. Once they heard the words, they simply gave the same old reply and left: “Thank you for your time. Have a good day.” The loving but broken parents had just been denied another loan.

As they drove home, they said nothing. What sense did it make? Everywhere was the same. Everyone felt the same. Everyone was scared. The economy was dry and crime was on the rise. A fog of tension seemed to permeate and mull through everything. Junior’s and Mae’s world, just as everyone else’s, had been turned upside down. The once wealthy island was no longer so wealthy. Money was dry all around the world and this little green spot in the West Indies was feeling the drought feverishly. People were being pushed to their end, the rope was running out and the water was rising. Mad talk and blank faces was the response.

Everyday seemed to bring another surprise and another question mark in the collective mind of the people. Junior and Mae sat nose deep in all of this; their kids had little food in the house. The rent was past due and the lights were about to get cut off. It truly seemed all too much for anyone; it was a saving grace that they had each other.

Each day seemed longer, each day seemed hotter. More importantly, each day was harder; but they made it through; “Some how, some way” was their modus operandi. Nevertheless, it made no sense to them any more. They knew life was not supposed to be like this. They were not foolish. Life was hard, there was no question about that; but they knew more should have been done. They knew that more could be done.

Their once pristine and quiet island home had been turned into an overpriced, over-packed and dingy hotel with a revolving door. The native people no longer mattered; they were just the “staff” and as usual, they were subservient to the unconcerned and uncaring management. It was management that shared no knowledge or culture of their home but had simply shown up to make money and live under the sun.

Junior and Mae had heard the stories of the Islands’ former glory, their stoic and unified past of intact culture and an innate and sacred way of life. All of that had been washed away down the asphalt streets and smothered by the concrete buildings. Just as parents trying to live for their family, Junior and Mae had fully realised that the place they called home was no longer their home and would never be the place they knew as home ever again.

The money had been wasted because the leadership had wasted it and continued to waste. The bravado and “slick talk” of the leadership did not hide their complete lack of ability; it had truly become a sad situation. The crookedness and asinine behavior of the supposed leaders had become so evident that the place resembled a bad sitcom more than a country because in a real country it would have never been allowed. Nevertheless, as people were financially crippled, starved and strived to survive it was all being allowed.

There were those scared of losing money and there were those scared of losing everything; in between that, there were those who just wanted to get as much as they could before the ship sank all together. Junior and Mae could only sit and watch as everything around them became polluted and tainted to the point of destruction or uselessness.

If it had not have been for the kids they would have given up long ago, but every time they looked in their children’s eyes they knew they could not give up. Even with out the help of their supposed leaders, without the help of their people they would make it somehow. They knew they were not alone and so they moved on for another day in what was once paradise but was just a mirage where a paradise used to be.

We certainly have more than our fair share of “Juniors and Maes” today. Caymanians are getting smothered and bred out of existence for the pursuit of a dollar. This can only be considered a crime; an outright and blatant crime propagated by the greed and selfishness that has now become the modus operandi of the Cayman Islands. We heard all the “bull talk” and still we wait on results.
As before, all we have received is finger pointing and a complete lack of results. Cost of living still rises as quality of life declines while our elected leaders collect “fat” salaries and the people suffer. How can anyone neglect the fact that Caymanians are a minority in their own country?

A piece of paper does not make you a Caymanian. The love and understanding of and for this country makes you a part of it. It is time for us to remember what we were, where we came from and what we can be again.

The foreign and private hordes have gotten too fat for their own good off of our country. It is time to change that. It is time to share the wealth and protect the people. Why is it that we have less with the more money we make? It is because we are getting robbed. The people are getting robbed of their homeland, their culture and their way of life. We are getting robbed of ourselves and being told that it is okay or that it is in the mind of the people. Is it because we are scared or because there is nothing more the average person can do.

We have been backed into a corner and have no rescue or saviour in sight. What is expected besides complete surrender?

We shall see how the true Caymanian people bounce back from this current onslaught, but for there to be victory and survival it is apparent that it has to be done by the people and for the people.

Our leaders do not care to do better or do not know how to do better. The people have to unite and find that wisdom and action that kept us alive and thriving for those centuries before the money and the uninvited guests arrived. We, the people, have to remember who we are, what the Cayman Islands were and truly are. We are a country, not a universal hotel, not a bank; but a country.

We are a country with our own people and they should come first. It is time to remember and protect the Juniors and Maes of our country and ensure their future and the future of their families. Are we going to sit down and watch our home and people vanish? Or are we actually going to do something about it?

This should be our current affair, not the suffering and decline that is so propagated at this time. What are we going to make of our own country?

Are we going to continue to be a joke?

Or are we going to mature enough to actually become a true country?

I wonder what Junior and Mae would say if asked that question. Think about that before you rush to make judgment.