Political surprise on a yellow brick road

Scene: Yellow Brick Road.

Four friends and their little pothound are skipping along when suddenly: BANG!

A huge cloud of red smoke appears on the road and inside the cloud is a giant face.

Kamla: “Oh my God. It’s the wicked witch of Diego Martin West, Keith Rowley.”

Photo: Trinidad and Tobago Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar

Rowley: “Yes, my little friends, it is I.”

Jack: “What do you want, Rowley? This is, of course, a yellow road. You have no business here.”

Rowley: “Not so, my bespectacled friend. This road belongs to the people. It’s not for the exclusive use of the People’s Partnership and their friends.”

Anil: “But this is our road. It’s paved with gold and it leads to the President’s house.”

Rowley: “Not so, oh loud one. You are merely temporary travellers on this road. And you’ve failed to treat it with the respect it deserves.”

Anand: “Listen Rowley, we have the right of way. Be off with you, you scoundrel. We must complete our journey.”

Prakash: “Woof woof.”

Kamla: “Down, Prakash, you’ll excite yourself. Have a biscuit.”

Rowley: “I know the purpose of your journey. You hoped that nobody would notice, but the truth is gradually emerging. I’ll see to it that your secrets are revealed and you’ll never reach your journeys end.”

Anil: “Secrets? What secrets?”

Rowley: “Well, you, Anil, The Tin Man. You have no heart. You allow this country’s sportsmen to go unpaid when representing their country and you provide no facilities for the nation’s youth. You waste money on worthless projects to grab the headlines and then fail to support them.  Whatever happened to the LIFEsport programme?”

Anil: “You forget all that we did for the Olympic athletes.”

Photo: Keshorn Walcott was feted on his return from the London 2012 Olympics.

Rowley: “Yes, you used them to promote your political party. If you had a heart, you would have used that money the help the athletes who are training for the next Olympics.”

Anand: “Well, it’s more than the PNM ever did.”

Rowley: “Ah, Anand, The Scarecrow. You have no brain. You need to learn to think before you speak. Who was it who funded Keshorn Walcott’s early years? The PNM. You see, Scarecrow, you don’t listen. Only this week, Kamla covered your straw bottom by saying that you were overseas during the reading of section 34. But then you came out and admitted you were there. You also said that you are not an expert on criminal law, yet last year you were an expert when you took credit for the State of Emergency.”

Jack: “But that was, of course, part of Sandy’s anti-crime plan.”

Rowley: “Oh yes, Jack, The Cowardly Lion. The man with no courage.”

Jack: “What? I’m a man of action, Kamla said so. I’m afraid of no one. Nobody can scare me.”

Rowley: “Really? So why is it that every time there are allegations against you, you run away?”

Jack: “I don’t, of course, run away. That is hippopotamus”

Kamla: “Preposterous.”

Jack: “Yes, preposterous. I never run away.”

Rowley: “So, where is this tsunami you were going to launch against FIFA? Where’s the Queen’s Counsel you’re bringing to fight Lasana Liburd? Where’s your proof that you sent the FIFA money to Haiti? Why do you get panic attacks whenever you pass within 100 yards of a courtroom? Why don’t you visit your family in Miami? Every time there are allegations against you, you shout and splutter and threaten this and that and we never hear a word after. You are a coward. A real man of action would face his accusers and prove his innocence.”

Prakash: “Woof woof.”

Rowley: “Aha, Prakash the Pothound.  The Prime Minister’s lapdog. You’re supposed to be an equal partner in this so-called coalition; yet every time your party demands action, you jump on to Kamla’s lap so she can stroke you ego and give you a biscuit.  The people voted for you to provide balance and to keep the UNC in check, but instead you hide under the table and feed off the crumbs.”

Photo: Some political analysts have accused the COP of sleeping on its responsibilities.

Kamla: “That’s enough, Rowley. I won’t let you bully my little friends. Don’t listen to him, Anil, you do have a heart, otherwise you wouldn’t wear your shiny suits to make people laugh. And you, dear Anand, you do have a brain; otherwise you would have believed my story that you were overseas. And you, dear Jack, you are very brave. Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone with me to Beverley Hills with those 200 armed policemen. And the 100 soldiers. And the security guards. And the protection detail. And the helicopter.  And you, precious Prakash, you’re a girl’s best friend, and you always sit very still so I can rest my feet on you.”

Rowley: “Ah, Kamla, so you’ve found your voice at last. I’m not sure what people back in Phillipine think Prime Ministers should do but we expect them to answer to the public, not hide away for days on end while their friends face the media. The people voted for a leader, not a speech reader. If you don’t have a prepared speech, you just duck the issues.”

Kamla: “I will answer you, Rowley. You will see. But not now. I think I will make a speech about this next Thursday.”

Jack: “Yes. And I’m going to answer your allegations on national television too in due course. In the fullness of time. I would tell you when right now but, of course, I do not want to alert the criminal elements who might be listening.”

Anil: “And I’m going to be announcing the funding of the national football team very shortly too. Right Jack?”

Prakash: “Woof woof.”

Anand: “Steups. What’s this smelly brown stuff I’ve just stepped in? I’m always doing that these days.”

Rowley: “Make the most of your yellow brick road because it won’t last forever. And then we’ll find out what else you haven’t told us about…”

Kamla (closing her eyes and clicking her heels together): “I wish I was back in Phillipine.”


Editor’s Note: This column is pure satire and all conversations are faked; no offence is meant at parties named although they probably deserve it

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About Filbert Street

Filbert Street is a real columnist who works in a fantasy world that sometimes resembles our own.

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  1. For the avoidance of any doubt, Philippine, the last word of the satirical article, has nothing to do with me.

  2. Lollll! hilarious and relevant article, this made my night!!!

  3. LOL!!!!!!!!!!

  4. Ahahahahahhaha! That was hilarous!

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