Sailing My Fantasy

Sheila S. Walker
Date Published: 
Go Girl!


I had been invited to a seminar as part of Trinidad's Emancipation Celebration and took my mother along because I thought she'd enjoy the cultural activities. Shortly after my presentation, one of the organizers took the floor.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but something's going on. We're not quite sure what. Everyone should go straight home. There's nothing to worry about. We still plan to go dancing tonight, so we'll be in touch later. Oh, and don't go through town."

"They said not to go through town," said the man who was driving us to our guest house. "Let's see what we're not supposed to see," he continued, to my relief.

Flames shot into the air and machine gun fire burst from buildings we'd strolled past yesterday.

"Let's get out of here," he said, less cavalierly, again to my relief.

We found the guests and staff standing in the lobby, watching a blank TV screen with steel band accompaniment. Suddenly an image came on.

"This is not a revolution made by men. This is not a revolution made by guns. This is a revolution made by God," Abubakr said solemnly. "Our foreign visitors have nothing to worry about. You are all welcome here. And," he added after the man standing behind him whispered in his ear, "the soccer match will go on. We will return to tell you more later."

Revolution or no revolution, the Imam of the Muslimeen didn't want to alienate all those soccer fans from Trinidad and its neighbors, who had gathered for the Caribbean cup match. One must have a sense of priorities. A coup d'état is one thing; soccer is another.