In the short several days since Junior Justice Minister Pearnel Charles Jnr. announced tougher scrutiny in the nation’s penal institutions the Jamaica Observer reports there has been several instances of correctional officers attempting to smuggle mobile phones and other digital devices into prison facilities.This resulted in four correctional officers from the Tower Street Adult Correctional Facility being arrested and 36 mobile phones seized.
I am highly critical of the Government structure and the way it goes about executing it’s mandate. The reason I am hyper critical is not that I am necessarily contentious or that I believe there aren’t tough challenges in running a country.
But from a pragmatic standpoint I believe we could have had a better more prosperous nation had those entrusted with it’s direction been more judicious with their charge.
I criticize because as a young man I too stepped forward in service to my country. It was a challenge I was giddy about accepting when I put my uniform on and stepped out onto the streets as a police officer. I served with honor and distinction even taking a bullet in the process.
The privilege to serve has been one of the high honors of my life.
We cannot fix all of the things all at once, but we can fix some of the things one at a time one day at a time.
I humbly submit the fable narrated by Dr. H. Albertus Boli, one which I read and fell in love with as a grade School student in North East St. Catherine.
It is the story of the little dutch boy who saved Holland.
A LITTLE BIT OF METAPHOR…
Once there was a little Dutch boy who discovered a leak in the dike.
What should he do? From a single leak, a terrible breach might grow. The whole country could be flooded, and everyone he knew would drown. So he did the only thing he could think of. He stuck his finger in the dike, and the leak stopped.
Of course, now he was stuck. He couldn’t move, because as soon as he did, the leak would start again. So he stood there for quite some time. He was rather tired, and his finger felt a bit numb from the effort of holding back the North Sea, but he knew he was doing his duty. At last the Burgomaster happened to pass by. “Young man,” he said with a certain amount of sternness, “why are you poking your finger in the dike?” “I am stopping a leak,” the boy explained. “I saw the dike leaking, so I stuck my finger in the hole.”
“Heroic boy!” the Burgomaster exclaimed. “You shall be rewarded! Meanwhile, keep your finger there while I call the Burghers together.”
So the Burgomaster called a meeting of the Burghers, and they agreed that the boy had heroically saved Holland. “And now,” the Burgomaster asked, “what shall we do about the leak?” “It seems to me,” one of the Burghers replied, “that private enterprise has already found an admirable solution to the problem. The boy has stuck his finger in the dike, and the leak has stopped. You might describe it as voluntary self-regulation. There is no need for expensive government action.”
So the Burghers voted to award the boy a Certificate of Good Citizenship, which the Burgomaster was delighted to be able to present to him the next day. “Thank you,” the boy said politely, “but I still have my finger in this dike.” “And we appreciate that,” the Burgomaster replied. “I may confidently speak for the whole Council of Burghers in saying that your heroic action is universally admired.” So the boy stood there with his finger in the dike for a few more days. It was not long, however, before another leak sprang in the dike, a little bit farther down the way.
“What shall we do?” the Burgomaster asked the Burghers. “There is another leak.” “As private enterprise has so admirably solved the previous problem,” one of the Burghers responded, “the solution to this new leak is obvious. We need only persuade another heroic boy to stick his finger in it.” So they went into the local school and found another boy who, after much persuasion, was willing to stick his finger in the dike. It was, however, only a few days later that two more leaks appeared. This time it was much harder to persuade boys to stick their fingers in the holes; and when, a week later, half a dozen more leaks appeared, no volunteers were to be found. “What shall we do?” the Burgomaster asked the Council. “Private enterprise seems no longer to be adequate. We may have to repair the dike itself this time.”
“Nonsense,” said one of the Burghers. “The solution that worked before will work again. We must simply force private enterprise into action.” So the Council visited the school and dragged a number of young boys by the ears to the dike, where they were forced to plug the leaks with their fingers. But the dike, which was old and poorly maintained, continued to spring new leaks here and there, so that it was all the Burghers could do to find more boys to plug up the leaks with their fingers. At last the Burghers compelled every little boy in the Low Countries to stick his finger in a hole. All economic activity came to a halt, as it is well known that young boys are the leading consumers of skates and cheese, on which the economy of Holland depended at that time.
“What shall we do?” the Burgomaster asked the Council. “We have run out of heroic little boys. At this rate, we may have to plug the leaks with our own fingers.” “That would be moderately inconvenient,” one of the Burghers remarked. So the Council voted to remove the North Sea by digging a new seabed somewhere in Germany; and they voted themselves a number of solid gold spades, befitting their dignity, for the purpose. And if you go to suburban Wilhelmshaven right now, and look into the field to your right as you drive westward on the Friedenstrasse, you will see a number of Dutch burghers very busy with their spades, trying to dig a new bed for the North Sea. It is lucky for them that the people of Wilhelmshaven have mistaken the burghers for a party of archaeologists looking for ancient Saxon remains, which has allowed them to continue the work uninterrupted. https://drboli.wordpress.com/2009/03/06/the-little-dutch-boy-who-saved-holland/
There is much to assimilate from this piece of fiction. In fact it is an appose depiction of life imitating art , at least as far as my concerns are as it relates to our country.
The little boy did his job, much the same way each average Joe gets up and does his in our country each and every day.
They are not the problem, a closer look at the actions of the Burgomasters gives one a clear-eyed, yet less than ostentatious perspective of how we become our own worst enemies when we should simply act, but fail to do so.
Our country is a small bit of land, 4411 square miles with about 2.8 million people, it has it’s fair share of challenges , none of which are insurmountable.
Like the brave little boy who initially stuck his hand in the Dyke to save his country, so too has average Jamaicans arisen to the task of Nation-building.
For decades average Jamaicans have stuck their fingers in the Dyke plugging the leaks as they wait for the Burgomasters to act so they can extricate their fingers from the hypothermic cold.
And as the Burgomasters asked the boy, and eventually all boys ‚to sacrifice and sacrifice more, even as they themselves dither and pontificate, so has our nation’s leaders reneged on their responsibilities while average Jamaicans toil in vain.
Instead of simply plugging the Dyke our leaders have stood by, much the same way the Burgomasters did, adopting grandiose untenable solutions instead of simply plugging the dyke.
Therein lies our problem.