I think many readers will resonate with this post. It was written by a media colleague Jerry George.
“Today, I remember my dead grandmother…who gave her all to Saint Lucia that our lives could be better than hers. I salute the forgotten black women of Saint Lucia, my grandmother among them, who were the backbone of the banana industry; they walked up the plank, placed at a 60 degee angle from the Geest banana shed to the Geest banana boat. Her shift was 4am-8am and each load of banana was worth a penny. She was also among those who cut cane before bananas. And had the qualifications to do so having worked in canefields in Antigua, Barbados and British Guiana. She regales us with stories of Berbice and Dem’rara…
I salute the old black women of Saint Lucia, who have long been forgotten, but an army of them with their waists bande’, with the same mouchwe that tied their heads on which they placed a toncchonand on that tonchon were the large trays of rocks to lay the foundation for the now Sir George F.L. Charles airport. They went back and forth, barefoot, but with the determination that their sacrifices would mean their children and grandchildren would someday fly the planes on the runway. My grandmother was among them. Each tray was five cents.
I remember your hardened hands…with bulging veins (like tiny chains of black pudding, the blood cooked by hard word); I remember, too, your creased face and your loving eyes. We miss you.
So when I think of her and I think of DSH, for example, her blood, sweat and sacrifice are not compatible.
OLD BLACK WOMEN’S LIVES MATTER (GRANDMOTHERS): FOUNDATIONS FOR OUR NATION’S PROGRESS…
IN OUR THOUGHTS FOR INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY 2018…AND FOREVER.
(This is not a picture of her…but close)”
