Questions on PNP and the New Socialism Paradigm

An Open Letter to Mark Golding: A Pragmatist's Appeal for a Refined Democratic Socialism

Lessons from the 1970s, fiscal reality in 2026, and navigating the Monroe Doctrine

Dear Mr. Golding,

I write to you not as a skeptic, but as a firm believer in the transformative potential of democratic socialism. Your recent embrace of this philosophy, building on the legacy of the great Michael Manley, resonates deeply with those of us who have long felt that Jamaica's economic model has failed to place the people at its centre.

However, I write as a pragmatist who believes that for this vision to succeed in 2026, it must be refined, nuanced, and exceptionally agile in the face of global variables. Your recent address was inspiring, yet it raised critical questions that demand substantive answers if this project is to avoid the pitfalls of the past and navigate the complexities of the present. I ask these questions not to cast doubt, but to build a foundation for a credible and workable plan.

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1. The Lessons of the 1970s: A Blueprint for Caution

You rightly invoked the legacy of Michael Manley. But the 1970s experiment also provides a stark blueprint of the internal and external challenges that can cripple a well-intentioned socialist project. By 1980, Jamaica had experienced significant economic contraction and high unemployment. The Land Reform program faced substantial circumvention, and state-run cooperatives saw production plummet.

The question is not whether we should learn from this history, but how a modern PNP administration will avoid the same internal and external pitfalls that undermined that era's goals. How will we ensure that new social programs don't collapse under patronage, indiscipline, or poor execution? Your vision of a "bottom-up" economy is compelling, but its success depends on the integrity and capacity of the state machinery to implement it effectively.

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2. Fiscal Reality and State Capacity in 2026

The fiscal landscape today is dramatically different. Jamaica has just weathered Hurricane Melissa, a Category 5 storm that caused an estimated US$8.8 billion in damage—approximately 41% of GDP. This has created an urgent balance of payments need, and Jamaica has had to seek US$415 million in emergency financing from the IMF, with a projected fiscal deficit of 4.8% of GDP for FY2026/27.

Your proposals for expanded social programs, first-in-family university scholarships, and land titling are laudable, but they require a fiscally sound foundation. Where will the funding come from in this constrained environment?

To your point, the tax expenditure system itself requires scrutiny. "Other credits" accounted for nearly 19% of net corporate income tax in recent years, representing billions in foregone revenue. Your suggestion to reform the tax system is correct, but we must ask: How will a new administration broaden the tax base and ensure compliance without stifling the investment needed for recovery?

Furthermore, the state's capacity to deliver has been called into question. The "hollowing out" of the public sector presents a fundamental obstacle to implementing a bold new social agenda. How will the PNP rebuild the state machinery to execute its vision? Proposals like the electronic invoicing system to improve tax compliance are a step in the right direction, but they require a highly functioning bureaucracy. This must be operationalized long before an election.

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3. Navigating the Geopolitical Reality: The Monroe Doctrine is Not a Ghost

Your vision of economic independence must contend with the enduring reality of the Monroe Doctrine. This is not 1970s history; it is today's headline.

In March 2026, Jamaica announced it would end its five-decade-long medical cooperation programme with Cuba. The government cited "inability to agree on terms," but this decision came amid intense pressure from the U.S., which has labelled the Cuban medical missions as "human trafficking."

Foreign Minister Johnson Smith insists there was no U.S. influence, but the geopolitical context is undeniable. This decision has significant implications for our healthcare system and our regional relationships. If a future PNP administration faces similar pressure on its policies, how will it navigate the tension between pursuing an independent, people-centred foreign policy and managing the critical relationship with our primary trading partner?

The challenge is acute. Golding's democratic socialism, by its nature, seeks to put people's interests ahead of powerful groups and nations. This is a noble goal, but it will inevitably create friction. How will the party prepare for and manage this friction without being isolated or forced into capitulation, thus repeating the challenges of the 1970s?

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Conclusion: A Call for Substance

Your vision is a powerful and necessary one. But as you've noted, the times have changed. We are in a post-hurricane crisis, with a fragile fiscal position and a complex geopolitical landscape. The PNP's response cannot be merely rhetorical; it must be a detailed and nuanced strategy that addresses these core challenges.

I and many other supporters of democratic socialism seek not a "great leader" to rally behind, but a pragmatic, forward-thinking plan that can be operationalized and sold to the Jamaican people. I believe such a plan exists, and I ask that you elaborate on it so we can go forward together with confidence, not just hope.

Yours in solidarity and pragmatism,

Yannick Pessoa

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Disclaimer: This article represents the personal views of the author and is intended as a constructive contribution to public discourse on Jamaica's political and economic future.

#MarkGolding #PNP #DemocraticSocialism #JamaicaPolitics #MichaelManley #Jamaica #CaribbeanPolitics #PoliticalReform #EconomicPolicy #MonroeDoctrine #HurricaneMelissa #IMF #FiscalPolicy #StateCapacity #ForeignPolicy #SocialJustice #PeopleCentred #JamaicaRecovery #Geopolitics #OpenLetter

Ode to Beres Hammond

Give Thanks, Beres Hammond

How “Putting Up Resistance” Taught Me About Love, Sacrifice and Resilience

We often talk about music as entertainment. We remember the songs we danced to, the ones that soundtracked first loves, heartbreaks and celebrations. But some songs do something quieter and more lasting. They prepare us for life.

One of those songs, for me, is Beres Hammond’s “Putting Up Resistance.”

I grew up in Montego Bay in the 1980s in a house where music mattered. My mother adored Beres. His albums sat in a place of honour alongside Air Supply, Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel and Sam Cooke—on vinyl and cassette. “Putting Up Resistance” became part of the soundtrack of my childhood.

What still strikes me is that, unlike so many songs we only grow into as adults, this one spoke to me right away. The message wasn’t beyond a child’s understanding. It made sense because I was already watching it unfold every day.

My father would leave home at three or four in the morning, driving deep into the Jamaican countryside to buy produce and goods before the rest of us had opened our eyes. He was supplying hotels and customers, working tirelessly to build a business and create opportunities for his family that he himself had never had.

As a child, I missed him when he was gone.

Then I heard Beres sing about wanting to stay home with his family while recognising that staying home would not make things right. Those words helped me understand my father’s sacrifice. They taught me that love is not always measured by the hours spent at home. Sometimes love looks like leaving before dawn so your children can have a better life.

"Blow wind blow, blow wind blow

I want to stay home tonight

I long to spend some time with the family

But staying home won't make it right

Sometimes the pressure make me feel like bawling

When every sign says no way out

Breaking my back to make an overtime dollar

That just goes from hand to mouth"

That was the first lesson.

The second proved even more enduring.

The song acknowledges something every Jamaican knows but few songs express so plainly: there are times when it feels as though unseen forces continually frustrate honest effort. Bureaucracy, economic hardship, disappointment and circumstance can create the sense that the odds are permanently tilted against ordinary people.

"No I never can understand it 

The way the system goes, (pressure) 

I don't know how they do it 

There's only one way things flow 

'Cause every time I lift my head above water 

And try to save myself from drown 

There's an overnight scheme all worked out 

Designed to keep ah me down 

 Still I'm I'm putting up a resistance, yeah"

Yet the brilliance of “Putting Up Resistance” is that it refuses to stop there. It does not deny hardship. It does not pretend the system is always fair. Instead, it insists that surrender is not the answer.

Those words have echoed through every stage of my adult life.

As a journalist, community activist, husband and father, I have encountered enough setbacks to become cynical. There have been moments when it would have been easy to conclude that nothing changes, that hard work is futile, that integrity is for fools. Every time those thoughts crept in, I remembered the spirit of that song.

It taught me something invaluable: I could recognise injustice without allowing it to poison my character. I could acknowledge the difficulties of the Jamaican condition without becoming bitter about them. I could keep believing that honest effort still matters.

That is no small gift.

We celebrate artists for their awards, chart success and sold-out concerts. We speak less often about the quiet ways they shape the moral imagination of a nation. Looking back, I realise that while my father showed me what perseverance looked like, Beres Hammond gave me the language to understand it. He put melody to discipline. He gave rhythm to resilience. He transformed the daily struggle of ordinary Jamaicans into something dignified rather than despairing.

I suspect I am not alone. There must be thousands of Jamaicans who unknowingly carried lessons from his music into adulthood. Songs like “Putting Up Resistance” were more than recordings. They were companions. They reminded us that endurance is not weakness, that perseverance is not naïveté, and that hope is itself an act of resistance.

So this is simply an expression of gratitude.

Thank you, Mister Hammond, for reminding a young Jamaican boy that life would be difficult without convincing him it was hopeless. Thank you for helping me understand my father’s sacrifices while he was still making them. And thank you for proving that sometimes the greatest gift an artist can give is not escape from reality, but the courage to face it.

History Games: It's a Vibe!!!

 

I Grew Up on Commodore 64. Forty Years Later, AI Helped Me Build the History Games I Always Wanted.

Every now and then, technology reaches back across time and taps you on the shoulder.

For me, that tap came while "vibe coding."

I am not a software engineer.

I am a philosophy graduate. A journalist. A community activist. A history teacher. A graphic designer. An old-school computer nerd whose first encounters with programming were on the Commodore 64, typing BASIC programs from magazines and wondering how lines of code could conjure worlds from nothing more than imagination and patience.

Life took me elsewhere.

Into newspapers.
Into classrooms.
Into community meetings.
Into activism.
Into philosophy.
Into trying to understand Jamaica—not just as a place, but as an unfolding story.

Yet somewhere in the back of my mind, that little programmer never really died.

Today, artificial intelligence has become something extraordinary. Not because it replaces human creativity, but because it lowers the walls between imagination and creation. It has allowed people like me—people with HTML, CSS, a little BASIC, an object-oriented way of thinking, and decades of accumulated experience—to begin building ideas that once would have remained trapped inside notebooks.

So I started making games.

Not because I wanted to become the next AAA game developer.

Because I wanted to teach history differently.

History Should Be Played

Too often, history in our schools becomes a procession of dates, governors, acts, examinations and memorisation.

Students are asked to remember history without ever living it.

But history is conflict.
It is uncertainty.
It is difficult choices.
It is ordinary people trying to survive extraordinary circumstances.

Games understand this instinctively.

When you make a decision inside a game, you become emotionally invested in its outcome.

That is why I began experimenting with interactive historical simulations.

One prototype explores Jamaica's colonial past in the spirit of The Oregon Trail, where survival depends not only on resources but on understanding the social, political and environmental realities of the period.

Another prototype experiments with a free-village RPG, imagining what life might have looked like after Emancipation as formerly enslaved Jamaicans attempted to build communities, economies and identities from almost nothing.

They are rough.

They are unfinished.

Sometimes they break.

Sometimes the code behaves like a stubborn mule.

But they are alive.

And every version teaches me something new.

Vibe Coding Meets Old-School Thinking

People talk about AI as if it performs magic.

It doesn't.

It amplifies curiosity.

The AI doesn't know what it wants to build.

I do.

Years spent writing HTML.

Designing graphics.

Thinking philosophically.

Teaching students.

Writing newspaper columns.

Understanding Jamaican communities.

All of those experiences become architecture.

The AI simply helps me assemble the bricks faster.

It feels strangely familiar.

Back in the Commodore 64 days, we experimented, failed, rewrote, debugged and learned by doing.

Today, I'm doing exactly the same thing.

The tools have changed.

The mindset hasn't.

Why Jamaica Needs Educational Games

Imagine a Jamaican child learning about the Maroons by negotiating treaties instead of memorising dates.

Imagine understanding the Morant Bay Rebellion by making impossible decisions under impossible conditions.

Imagine building a free village after Emancipation and discovering, through gameplay, why land ownership mattered so profoundly.

Imagine Caribbean history becoming something students discuss long after class ends—not because they have an exam tomorrow, but because they couldn't stop playing.

This is bigger than entertainment.

This is cultural preservation.

This is digital heritage.

This is education that refuses to be boring.

Building in Public

These projects are still prototypes.

They're messy.

They're experimental.

They're unfinished.

But ideas don't become reality by hiding inside hard drives.

So I'm sharing them.

Explore the demos:

• History Game Prototype:
https://yahnyk.github.io/History-Game/

• Other History Game Experiments:
https://yahnyk.github.io/other-history-games/

• Free Village RPG Prototype:
https://yahnyk.github.io/Free-Village-RPG2/

Every click, every suggestion and every piece of feedback helps shape what these projects might eventually become.

A Caribbean Dream

My hope isn't simply to build games.

My hope is to help build a Caribbean game-development culture rooted in our own stories.

We've spent decades consuming other people's myths.

Perhaps it's time to export our own.

Jamaica possesses one of the richest histories on Earth.

The Caribbean is overflowing with stories of resistance, resilience, migration, innovation and imagination.

Those stories deserve to exist not only in textbooks and museums, but on laptops, tablets, consoles and phones around the world.

If these prototypes inspire one student to love history...

If one teacher decides to use them in a classroom...

If one young Jamaican decides they too can become a developer...

Then every late night has been worthwhile.

Help Me Build the Next Chapter

Independent projects like these take time, research, testing and countless hours of experimentation.

If you believe Caribbean stories deserve innovative educational games...

If you want to see these prototypes evolve into polished classroom tools...

If you'd simply like to support an independent Jamaican creator trying something different...

You can help.

☕ Support on Buy Me a Coffee:
https://buymeacoffee.com/yahnyk2099

❤️ Or donate via PayPal:
https://www.paypal.com/donate?token=jOFxdH0wu5zz6thF6AEZcjAu0Qh2vflf0CcBCBlAStCCyGahxd97YrKhMP973CInxFVjsvSjybQWLp9D

You aren't just funding games.

You're helping build a new way of telling Caribbean history.

One decision.

One student.

One line of code.

One story at a time.

World Cup 2026: A Jamaican Philosophical Outlook

The World Cup Was Never Just Football: It Was Identity, Politics and the Battle for Our Minds

By Yannick Pessoa | The Montegonian

If yuh never grow up in Jamaica, yuh probably can't understand what a World Cup does to this island.

The country literally changes.

Productivity drops.

Every bar become a sports bar.

Every taxi become a talk show.

Every corner shop produce at least three international coaches who know exactly why England should have started a different striker.

A man who couldn't tell you who the Minister of Agriculture is can suddenly explain a high press, inverted fullbacks and expected goals.

A woman walking to the market suddenly screams because somebody scores from thirty yards.

Even the old Rasta on the corner who claims football is Babylon business somehow knows the offside rule.

That's Jamaica.

That's why I love this place.

For a few weeks every four years—or in this expanded tournament, every chance we get—we become citizens of the footballing world.

This tournament had everything.

Drama.

Beauty.

Controversy.

Heartbreak.

VAR.

Conspiracy theories.

Questionable officiating.

Brilliant goalkeeping.

Young stars announcing themselves.

Veterans refusing to accept that Father Time has finally caught them, yes I am talking about Messi.

And somewhere between all that, social media reminded me that football has never really been about football.

It has always been about identity.

A Little Island Named Cape Verde

I won't lie.

Watching Cape Verde was emotional.

Not because I expected them to lift the trophy.

But because every time they stepped onto the field, I saw another small island trying to convince the world that geography isn't destiny.

Sound familiar?

Jamaicans should understand that feeling better than almost anybody.

People see a small dot on the map.

We see Bolt.

Marley.

Louise Bennett.

Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce.

Our best musicians, athletes and thinkers have always had to prove that greatness isn't measured in square miles.

Cape Verde reminded me of that spirit.

Football and the Colonial Mind

Now let me venture into uncomfortable territory.

Sport has always been political.

Always.

The Olympics were political.

The 1936 Berlin Games were political.

Muhammad Ali was political.

The 1968 Black Power salute was political.

South Africa's sporting isolation during apartheid was political.

To pretend football somehow exists above politics is one of the greatest fairy tales ever sold.

The World Cup is one of the largest exercises in soft power on Earth.

Countries market themselves.

Corporations market themselves.

FIFA markets itself.

Governments market themselves.

Even players become brands worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

Politics never leaves the stadium.

It just changes uniforms.

The 2026 World Cup Final saw Argentina’s legacy marred not by defeat itself, but by a alarming display of poor conduct, violent physical escalation, and intense geopolitical tension. 

Throughout their 1–0 extra-time defeat to Spain, Argentina’s reliance on excessive roughhousing—evidenced by a barrage of disciplinary bookings and Enzo Fernández’s second-yellow expulsion—proved to be an unsustainable blueprint that exposed the limits of aggression over composure. 

This hostility boiled over post-match into physical altercations, followed by a glaring lack of sportsmanship when Lionel Messi and his squad turned their backs and left the pitch during Spain’s trophy lift—failing to return the guard of honor Spain had just afforded them. 

For Messi, failing to restrain his squad or show grace in defeat cast a shadow over his final international appearance, allowing petulance to stain a legendary career. 

Compounding the on-field breakdown was a poisonous political atmosphere off it; the match was heavily politicized as a proxy conflict between President Javier Milei’s staunchly pro-Israel Argentina and Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez’s pro-Palestine Spain, turning a global sporting spectacle into a polarized geopolitical battlefield.

The Psychology of the Third World

One comment from an African football manager on a BBC Radio interview has stayed with me.

He argued that European football doesn't simply produce technically superior players.

It often produces players carrying fewer psychological burdens.

That struck me because I don't think it only applies to football.

I think it applies to Jamaica.

How many brilliant children have we lost to violence?

To poverty?

To migration?

To simply trying to survive?

We often speak about talent as though it exists in isolation.

It doesn't.

Talent grows best in stable soil.

Imagine asking two pianists to perform the same concerto.

One spent the morning worrying about a recital.

The other spent the morning wondering whether the electricity would be disconnected.

Both may possess equal talent.

Only one arrives mentally free.

That's an advantage we rarely measure.

The Referee Is Also Part of the Game

Every World Cup produces refereeing debates.

That's nothing new.

But referees occupy an unusual place in sport.

They don't merely enforce rules.

They shape emotion.

A soft penalty.

A harsh red card.

A disallowed goal.

An ignored foul.

Each decision changes not only the scoreline but the psychology of everyone on the pitch.

Fans naturally disagree over individual calls.

What matters more is that the game's institutions earn enough trust that people believe outcomes are fundamentally fair.

Once that trust begins to erode, every whistle becomes suspect, every replay becomes evidence, and every close decision feeds a larger narrative.

Whether those narratives are ultimately right or wrong, the perception itself becomes part of the tournament.

Who Do We Cheer For?

Perhaps the strangest thing I observed wasn't tactical.

It was psychological.

Watching Jamaicans choose sides fascinated me.

Some supported clubs because of favourite players.

Some followed old colonial loyalties.

Some simply loved beautiful football.

Others rallied behind underdogs.

None of those reasons are inherently wrong.

But they reveal something interesting.

Sport becomes a mirror.

Sometimes we cheer because we admire excellence.

Sometimes because we recognise ourselves.

Sometimes because we aspire to belong to something larger than ourselves.

That says as much about us as it does about the teams.

At the End of the Day

Looking back I feel comfortable to say this has been a Goal Keepers World Cup, Arsenal's World Cup!

This tournament was defined by exceptional shot-stopping drama and undeniable Arsenal influence across the globe.

Among the standout goalkeepers who captivated fans, 40-year-old veteran Vozinha became an instant sensation while commanding the net for debutants Cape Verde, making seven heroic saves to hold eventual champions Spain to a iconic 0–0 group-stage draw. 

Morocco’s Yassine Bounou once again anchored his nation with world-class performances in deep knockout territory, while Mostafa Shoubir delivered spectacular, high-volume shot-stopping performances for Egypt. 

Meanwhile, Unai Simón maintained his elite consistency for tournament winners Spain, posting three clean sheets to reinforce La Roja's impenetrable backline.

On the Arsenal front, 14 Gunners represented their countries at the 2026 World Cup, making their mark at every phase of the competition:

🏆 World Champion

• David Raya & Mikel Merino (Spain): World Cup Champions 🏆. 

  Raya lifted the trophy as part of Spain's record-setting defensive squad, while Merino scored critical late winners against Portugal and Belgium en route to the title.

🥉 Third-Place Play-off / Semi-finals

• William Saliba (France): Reached the Semi-finals (and 3rd-Place Match) after starting every knockout fixture prior to a tragic muscular injury against Spain.

⚽ Quarter-finals & Round of 16 Exits

• Bukayo Saka, Declan Rice, Noni Madueke & Eberechi Eze (England): Journey ended in the Quarter-finals in a thriller against France.

• Gabriel Magalhães & Gabriel Martinelli (Brazil): Exited in the Round of 16 following a shock defeat to Norway.

• Leandro Trossard (Belgium): Reached the Round of 16, falling short to eventual champions Spain.

• Martin Ødegaard (Norway): Captained Norway on their historic run to the Round of 16.

🛑 Round of 32 Exits

• Kai Havertz (Germany): Departed in the Round of 32 following a surprise defeat to Paraguay.

• Piero Hincapié (Ecuador): Exited in the Round of 32 after a dramatic loss to Mexico.

• Viktor Gyökeres (Sweden): Bowed out in the Round of 32 against France.

(Note: Riccardo Calafiori missed out as Italy failed to qualify in the European play-offs, while Jurriën Timber was forced to withdraw from the Netherlands squad before the tournament due to a groin injury).

Football Is a Mirror

Long after the confetti has been swept away, people will remember the goals, the saves and the controversies.

I'll remember something else.

I'll remember little Cape Verde refusing to be intimidated.

I'll remember neighbourhoods in Montego Bay erupting at impossible goals.

I'll remember roadside debates that somehow blended football, economics, history and politics into one breathless argument.

Because that's Jamaica.

We don't simply watch football.

We interpret it.

We argue it.

We laugh through it.

Sometimes we carry our hopes, frustrations and dreams onto the pitch alongside the players.

Maybe that's why the World Cup matters so much.

It isn't just twenty-two people chasing a ball.

It's billions of people trying to make sense of themselves.

And every four years, the beautiful game reminds us that the fiercest battles aren't always fought in midfield.

Sometimes they're fought inside our own minds.

Jamaica and Rastafari's Debt to Cuba

On clear days from Montego Bay, you can sense Cuba just ninety miles north. Close enough to swim, if desperation or love demanded it. Close enough that between 1900 and 1930, 150,000 Jamaicans crossed that water to work, to live, to die. My grandmother's father rests in Cuban earth. Mortimo Planno, one of our most important Rastafari elders, was born there. The line from Cuba to Trench Town to the world runs through him—he walked up the gangplank in 1966 to escort Haile Selassie to the ecstatic crowd, he mentored Bob Marley, he taught us to see spirituality and justice as one struggle.

Cuba gave my neighbours in Norwood their sight back. The Jamaica-Cuba Eye Care Programme flew ordinary Jamaicans—many on their first airplane ride—to Cuba for free surgery. Over 3,400 sight-saving procedures. Acts of love between neighbours.

Cuba gave the world Ebola treatments when wealthy nations sent soldiers. Cuba developed five COVID vaccines while under blockade, a lung cancer vaccine America bought in secret, treatments for vitiligo that plague our people. Cuba gave us the Buena Vista Social Club, refuge for Hemingway, revolutionary spirit that moved my father to name my brother Ernesto Che.

And now? Now our Prime Minister offers "constructive dialogue" and "humanitarian concern"—mealy-mouthed platitudes—while Cuba starves, while her lights go out, while the United States tightens a sixty-year blockade. Now the eye programme ends March 20 because we fold under Washington's pressure.

I remember 2022, when Jamaica sent medical supplies to Matanzas after that devastating fire. We know how to be generous. So where is our flotilla now? Where are the small boats loaded with food and medicine crossing those ninety miles? Where are our artists, our churches, our elders demanding solidarity?

Rastafari has always understood that Babylon is one and resistance must be one. Mortimo Planno, born in Cuba, buried in Jamaica, knew the struggle doesn't stop at the water's edge.

So I ask my fellow Jamaicans, I ask the Rastafari brethren: Are we fairweather friends? Do we only love Cuba when it costs us nothing? When Cuba gave us sight, gave us prophets, gave us medicine and music and revolutionary hope—we celebrated. Now Cuba needs us, and we offer statements.

Lions do not watch family starve while issuing press releases. What are we waiting for?

California Fires: A Jamaican Critique of Governance, Accountability, and Preventable Tragedies

The Cali Fires

Reflections on Political and Municipal Responsibility in the Woke Khalifate

Fires in Jamaica are a common occurrence and can have devastating consequences in Shanty towns and such, and I myself when living in Kendal, Manchester as child, woke up in a burning house. I am intimate with the particular scent that massive fires have after burning houses. I still have books that smell of that burning house. I can't help thinking about that Shawn Calvin song "Sunny Came Home"... especially that line that says, "...dry is good but wind is better..."Armageddon they say will be in an apocalyptic fire. But what is an Apocalypse if not the burning away and the revelation of truth. Trial by fire as it were.

The recent wildfires in California have not only devastated communities but have also ignited a fierce debate about political and municipal ineptitude. As I observe the critiques directed at Governor Gavin Newsom and Mayor Karen Bass, particularly from those who oppose "woke" and diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) policies, I find myself in agreement with many of these sentiments. These wildfires in California have become a tragic annual spectacle to the global news viewer. Towering flames consume homes, forests, and lives, and while the world watches in horror, one can’t help but wonder: could this all have been avoided? From where I sit in Jamaica, a land familiar with the wrath of nature, the answer feels like a resounding “Yes." The fires are predictable, and therefore, preventable. So why does California, one of the wealthiest places on Earth, seem so incapable of stopping them? 

The fires are not just tragic events; they expose significant failures in leadership and governance. As a Jamaican, I view these fires not just as natural disasters but as glaring symbols of political ineptitude, misplaced priorities, and systemic negligence. Let’s explore this issue from a uniquely Jamaican perspective, with a touch of cynicism, a splash of insight, and a strong dose of accountability. For as I pen this post I've had to ask my mother the family hub, about the family in California practically every other day last week. Though she says they're safe one can't help but feel a tad edgy and remember why I lobby for all our diaspora to have some place and hub out of Jamaica.

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Fire and Accountability: Where’s the Leadership?

In Jamaica, we have a saying: “Prevention better than cure.” It’s simple, direct, and rooted in common sense. When we know a hurricane is coming, we prepare. We board up our windows, stock up on supplies, and rely on our leaders to put systems in place to minimize damage. Disaster preparedness here isn’t perfect, but it’s proactive. 

Contrast this with California, where wildfires are as inevitable as sunshine, and yet the response often seems like an afterthought. The question is: where's the leadership? Officials like Governor Gavin Newsom and Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass are quick to make speeches, but what about action? If a government knows these fires are coming every year, why isn’t there a more robust strategy in place?

In Jamaica, our **Office of Disaster Preparedness and Emergency Management (ODPEM)** works tirelessly to anticipate and mitigate the effects of hurricanes. We try to enforce strict building codes though even the Prime Minister himself flouts them from time to time. We conduct public education campaigns, and maintain community disaster plans. If Jamaica, with its limited resources, can do this for hurricanes, why can’t California do the same for wildfires? Huh???

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Negligence or Ineptitude? A Legal and Ethical Perspective

From a legal standpoint, California’s failure to prevent these fires could be seen as a breach of  “duty of care.”  In Jamaican law, negligence occurs when a party fails to act reasonably to prevent foreseeable harm. By this standard, California’s leaders and utility companies like PG&E could find themselves squarely in the crosshairs. 

Let’s break this down:

• If the government knows that electrical sparks from outdated grids can ignite fires, why hasn’t it invested in infrastructure upgrades?
• If wildfires are exacerbated by overgrown vegetation, why aren’t there more controlled burns and firebreaks?
• If zoning laws allow people to build homes in high-risk areas, who’s responsible when those homes go up in flames?

These aren’t rhetorical questions. They’re the kinds of hard truths Jamaicans demand from our leaders. When something goes wrong here, we don’t dance around the issue—we demand accountability. Maybe California could use a bit of our fiery spirit, pun intended.

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Woke Policies vs. Practical Solutions

Now, let’s talk about the critique of “woke” policies and DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) initiatives, which some argue have distracted leaders like Newsom and Mayor Bass from practical governance. As a Jamaican, I understand the importance of equity—our national motto is literally, “Out of Many, One People.” In Jamaica I think most people get it that we want equal opportunity and not equal outcomes. So equity isn’t just about representation; it’s about ensuring that everyone, especially the most vulnerable, is protected.

When fires ravage California, it’s often the poorest communities that suffer the most. They’re the ones with the least resources to rebuild, the least political clout to demand better, and the least ability to escape. If leaders are spending more time on ideological posturing than on preventing disasters, then yes, they deserve criticism. Equity must extend beyond boardrooms and policy documents to include real-world protection for those at risk. 3.9% of donations must not be filtered to any political campaigns or organisation like some have tried to get by with in recent days. If you are donating please don't do it through Mr. Newsom.

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Lessons from Europe: How Others Tackle Wildfires

California isn’t the only place dealing with wildfires. Countries like Spain, Portugal, and Greece face similar challenges but often handle them more effectively. Here’s what they’re doing right:

1. **Controlled Burns:**    
   European nations regularly conduct controlled burns to reduce flammable vegetation. California has been criticized for neglecting this simple, effective practice.
2. **Infrastructure Upgrades:**  
   In Europe, utility companies are held accountable for maintaining safe electrical grids. In California, PG&E has faced lawsuits but continues to fall short. Why?
3. **Strict Zoning Laws:**  
   European countries enforce laws that prevent construction in high-risk areas, unlike California, where urban sprawl often pushes communities into fire-prone zones.
4. **Community Involvement:**  
   Europeans actively engage local communities in wildfire prevention efforts. This approach mirrors Jamaica’s reliance on community disaster response teams, where local knowledge plays a crucial role.

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Elon Musk, Mel Gibson, and the Culture of Distrust

Even cultural icons have weighed in on California’s wildfires. Elon Musk, ever the technophile, has criticized the state for failing to innovate, suggesting that drones, AI, and other technologies could revolutionize wildfire prevention. He’s not wrong. California, with its wealth and tech industry, has no excuse for not leading the world in disaster prevention technology.

Then there’s Mel Gibson, whose more conspiratorial tone reflects a broader mistrust in the system. When preventable disasters keep happening, people start to wonder: is this incompetence, or is there something more sinister at play? While I won’t dive into conspiracy theories, it’s clear that these repeated failures have eroded public trust in California’s leadership.

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A Jamaican Call for Better Governance

From a Jamaican perspective, the California fires are a tragic reminder of what happens when leaders fail to prioritize the basics: preparation, accountability, and care for the public good. Here in Jamaica, we know that nature is unpredictable, but that doesn’t mean it’s unbeatable. We prepare, we adapt, and we hold our leaders accountable.

California, take a page from our book. Stop making excuses, stop pointing fingers, and start doing the work. Invest in controlled burns, upgrade your infrastructure, enforce zoning laws, and engage your communities. And for heaven’s sake, stop letting utility companies and water managers off the hook.

As we say in Jamaica: “If yuh cyaan ketch Quako, yuh ketch him shut.” In other words, if you can’t fix the problem at its root, at least address the symptoms. California’s leaders have no excuse for letting predictable disasters spiral into chaos year after year. Captain's must take responsibility for the ship, ain't it?

It’s time for action, not just rhetoric. The fires may be burning in California, but the heat is on its leaders to finally step up.

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Conclusion

The California fires are a tragedy, but they don’t have to be inevitable. From a Jamaican perspective, the solution lies in accountability, preparedness, and a commitment to protecting all citizens, not just the wealthy and powerful. Let’s hope California’s leaders are listening—because if they aren’t, the flames will be back, fiercer than ever.

On Being a Grassroots Activist in Western Jamaica

As a resident of Montego Bay, Jamaica, I have seen the amazing work being done by grassroots activists in my community and around the world. These change-makers are truly the backbone of local empowerment, working tirelessly to address social, political, and economic injustices. They are the ones fighting to modify unfair laws, promoting peace, human rights, and equality, and responding to emergencies with unwavering courage and determination.

As an activist in Paradise Acres and Norwood I have experienced firsthand the challenges facing grassroots projects and civil society organizations (CSOs) in the country. Despite the tireless efforts of those who seek to create positive change in their communities, the obstacles are numerous, from the walls that separate bureaucracy from grassroots initiatives to the lack of government support for social entrepreneurship. Not only that but, grassroots activists often face tremendous challenges. Corruption, lack of funding, and a lack of support from allies that can make it difficult for these change-makers to sustain their efforts and continue to make a positive impact in their communities.

Before I dive too deeply into this discussion let me clarifying what I mean by grassroot activism. Grassroots activism is a bottom-up approach to social and political change that empowers individuals and communities to address their own issues and bring about positive change. In Montego Bay, Jamaica, community-based organizations and civil society groups are on the front-lines of these grassroot initiatives working towards creating a better future for the people of Jamaica.

Montego Bay, located on the northwest coast of Jamaica, is one of the island's largest cities and a major tourist destination. The history of Montego Bay is intertwined with Jamaica's colonial past, with the city serving as a hub for the slave trade and later as a center for the export of sugar and other crops. Despite its rich history, Montego Bay continues to face numerous social and economic challenges, including poverty, unemployment, and crime.

Paradise Acres and Norwood Montego Bay are two communities within the city that are particularly affected by these issues. Despite the difficulties they face, local residents are taking action to improve their communities and address the problems they face. The thing about grassroots activism though is... it is heartbreaking work and in my Caribbean island of Jamaica, it is a land of both breathtaking beauty and heart-wrenching tragedy. For those of us who call this place home, heartbreak is a familiar feeling, as we've lost friends and loved ones to all manner of circumstances.  In the words of the great Bob Marley "Good friends we have, oh, good friends we've lost along the way, In this great future, you can't forget your past So dry your tears, I seh ."

But one loss in particular still haunts me - the death of my friend Rasta Errol.

Errol was a member of the Rastafari Coral Gardens Benevolent Society, an organization established to provide care and support to the marginalized Rastafari community in the aftermath of the Coral Gardens atrocities of 1963. I had last seen him at a seminar for capacity building and an RCGBS meeting, full of life and energy as he discussed the future of the organization and the community it serves. But just a few short days later, while walking in the People's Arcade, he was viciously attacked by a group of men with knives and died while undergoing treatment at the hospital.

This tragedy is not just a personal loss, but a devastating blow to the community as a whole. It highlights the ongoing struggles faced by Jamaica's marginalized groups, and the urgent need for organizations like the RCGBS to continue their efforts in providing support and protection.

 

But it is not just the Rastafari community that is facing challenges. Civil society organizations (CSOs) and community-based organizations (CBOs) in Montego Bay and across Jamaica are also grappling with bureaucratic hurdles and confusing legal parameters that limit their freedom of association. The nonprofit industrial complex (NPIC) in Jamaica has been criticized for its lack of support for these organizations, with the state and its partners seemingly more interested in giving money to abstract concepts and causes than to the people who desperately need it.

I have seen the barriers that exist between activists, donors, and ally organizations, like international NGOs. Donors and allies often struggle to connect with grassroots groups and understand the unique challenges they face. This can lead to limited funding and resources being directed towards organizations considered to be more stable, trustworthy, and less "controversial." Meanwhile, the limited resources available for grassroots activists often come with excessive requirements and foster competition between groups, rather than supporting collaboration and cooperation.

This situation is not sustainable. Activists are forced to become more and more resilient, but they cannot continue to carry the weight of their causes on their own. They are asking for change, for a world where their work is recognized, resourced, and supported. It's time for us to stand with them, to understand the importance of their work, and to provide the support they need to continue making a positive impact in our world. 

I believe in the power of grassroots activism. I believe in the strength of community-based organizations that are truly driven by the people, for the people. I believe that tearing down the walls between bureaucracies and making the internal bureaucracy more flexible will lead to more resilient communities and a better future for Jamaica and its pan-African heart.

I also believe in the power of social entrepreneurship, which I see as a way to address large-scale issues in a sustainable and effective manner. But this requires a change in thinking and action on the part of the government and its partners, and so far, discussions on this topic have not taken place at a significant level.

So in sharing my experience I am calling upon all those who care about the future of Jamaica and its people to come together, to centralize our efforts, and to fight for a better tomorrow. Let us honor the memory of all those who have suffered and died in the face of injustice and inequality. This is a call to action for all of us who believe in the power of grassroots activism to bring about positive change. By breaking down the barriers that stand between grassroots activists, donors, and allies, we can create powerful, empowered alliances that will help bring about the change we need to see in our world.

I am out here and on the front-lines seeking ways in this movement, bringing together community to work towards a common goal. Through collective action and a shared commitment to change, we can support and uplift the tireless efforts of grassroots activists everywhere. In a world that is more challenged and politically divided than ever, unity is essential. By coming together in solidarity, we can ensure that grassroots activists are valued, resourced, and supported as they work towards a better future for us all. Join the revolution, and work towards a world where change-makers on the front-lines are recognized, resourced, and supported!

A Concise History of MoBay

Montego Bay is the most urban setting in St. James. An early map of Jamaica has Montego Bay listed as “Bahia de Manteca” or “Lard Bay,” so called because of the lard making industry made possible by the hunting of wild boars which populated the surrounding hills. Montego Bay was a sugar and banana town but the sugar factories were closed and bananas are now shipped out from Kingston and Port Antonio.

Montego Bay is Jamaica’s second largest city. According to the Planning Institute of Jamaica, Montego Bay is also among the top five fastest growing urban centres in the country. The growth is spurred by tourism, which is the major foreign exchange earner for the parish of St. James. The high number of tourist attractions and resorts in Montego Bay provide employment for hundreds of Jamaicans. Over 80 per cent of the entire parish is dependent on tourism.

10 Extremely Weird Religions

10

Scientology

Scientology has featured on a previous list, but if I didn’t include it here the comments would be inundated with “where’s scientology?” questions. The Church of Scientology is a cult created by L Ron Hubbard (Elron) in 1952 as an outgrowth of his earlier self-help system called Dianetics. The Church of Scientology holds that at the higher levels of initiation (OT levels) mystical teachings are imparted that may be harmful to unprepared readers. These teachings are kept secret from members who have not reached these levels. In the OT levels, Hubbard explains how to reverse the effects of past-life trauma patterns that supposedly extend millions of years into the past. Among these advanced teachings is the story of Xenu (sometimes Xemu), introduced as an alien ruler of the “Galactic Confederacy.” According to this story, 75 million years ago Xenu brought billions of people to Earth in spacecraft resembling Douglas DC-8 airliners, stacked them around volcanoes and detonated hydrogen bombs in the volcanoes. The thetans then clustered together, stuck to the bodies of the living, and continue to do this today. Scientologists at advanced levels place considerable emphasis on isolating body thetans and neutralizing their ill effects.

9

Creativity Movement

The Creativity Movement (formerly known as World Church Of The Creator), is a white separatist organization that advocates the whites-only religion, Creativity. It was also a descriptive phrase used by Ben Klassen, that included all adherents of the religion. The use of the term creator does not refer to a deity, but rather to themselves (white people). Despite the former use of the word Church in its name, the movement is atheistic. Creativity is a White Separatist religion that was founded by Ben Klassen in early 1973 under the name Church of the Creator. After Klassen’s death in 1993, Creativity almost died out as a religion until the New Church of the Creator was established three years later by Matthew F. Hale as its Pontifex Maximus (high priest), until his incarceration in January 2003 for plotting with the movement’s head of security, Anthony Evola (an FBI informant), to murder a federal judge.

8

Thee Temple ov Psychick Youth

Obviously spelling is not a fundamental part of this religion! Thee Temple ov Psychick Youth (TOPY) was founded in 1981 by members of Psychic TV, Coil, Current 93, and a number of other individuals. The ever-evolving network is a loosely federated group of people operating as a unique blend of artistic collective, and practitioners of magic. TOPY is dedicated to the manifestation of magical concepts lacking mysticism or the worship of gods. The group focuses on the psychic and magical aspects of the human brain linked with “guiltless sexuality”. Throughout its existence, TOPY has been an influential group in the underground Chaos magic scene and in the wider western occult tradition. TOPY’s research has covered both Left-hand path and Right-hand path magick, various elements of psychology, art, music, and a variety of other media. Some of the influences on the network have been Aleister Crowley, Austin Osman Spare, and Brion Gysin.

7

Nation of Yahweh

The Nation of Yahweh is a predominantly African-American religious group that is the most controversial offshoot of the Black Hebrew Israelites line of thought. They were founded in 1979 in Miami by Hulon Mitchell, Jr., who went by the name Yahweh ben Yahweh. Their goal is to return African Americans, whom they see as the original Israelites, to Israel. The group departs from mainstream Christianity and Judaism by accepting Yahweh ben Yahweh as the Son of God. In this way, their beliefs are unique and distinct from that of other known Black Hebrew Israelite groups. The group has engendered controversy due to legal issues of its founder and has also faced accusations of being a black supremacist cult by the Southern Poverty Law Center and The Miami Herald. The SPLC has criticized the beliefs of the Nation of Yahweh as racist, stating that the group believed blacks are “the true Jews” and that whites were “white devils.” They also claim the group believed Yahweh ben Yahweh had a Messianic mission to vanquish whites and that they held views similar to the Christian Identity movement.

6

Church of All Worlds

The Church of All Worlds is a neo-pagan religion founded in 1962 by Oberon Zell-Ravenheart and his wife Morning Glory Zell-Ravenheart. The religion evolved from a group of friends and lovers who were in part inspired by a fictional religion of the same name in the science fiction novel Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein; the church’s mythology includes science fiction to this day. They recognize “Gaea,” the Earth Mother Goddess and the Father God, as well as the realm of Faeries and the deities of many other pantheons. Many of their ritual celebrations are centered on the gods and goddesses of ancient Greece. Following the tradition of using fiction as a basis for his ideas, Zell-Ravenheart recently founded The Grey School of Wizardry inspired in part by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the school in the Harry Potter novels.

5

Universe People

Universe people or Cosmic people of light powers (Czech: Vesmírní lidé sil světla) is a Czech religious movement centered around Ivo A. Benda. Its belief system is based upon the existence of extraterrestrial civilizations communicating with Benda and other “contacters” since October 1997 telepathically and later even by direct personal contact. According to Benda those civilizations operate a fleet of spaceships, led by Ashtar Sheran, orbiting the Earth. They closely watch and help the good and are waiting to transport their followers into another dimension. The Universe People’s teachings incorporate various elements from ufology (some foreign “contacters” are credited, though often also renounced after a time as misguided or deceptive), Christianity (Jesus was a “fine-vibrations” being) and conspiracy theories (forces of evil are supposed to plan compulsory chipping of the population).

4

Church of the SubGenius

The Church of the SubGenius is a parody religion that promotes slack, while in a meta-commentarial way, satirizes religion, conspiracy theories, UFOs, and popular culture. The church claims to have been founded in the 1950s by the “world’s greatest salesman” J. R. “Bob” Dobbs. “Bob” Dobbs is depicted as a cartoon of a Ward Cleaver-like man smoking a pipe. The church really started with the publication of SubGenius Pamphlet #1 in 1979. It found acceptance in underground pop-culture circles and has been embraced on college campuses, in the underground music scene, and on the Internet. An important SubGenius event occurred on July 5, 1998: X-Day. The Church had been predicting that on this day the world would be destroyed by invading alien armies known as the X-ists (which is short for “Men from Planet X”). When the event didn’t come to pass, the church administrator who predicted it was tarred and feathered – but allowed to continue on as administrator. Paul Reubens (Pee-wee Herman) is a SubGenius minister. Patrick Volkerding, the founder and maintainer of Slackware Linux, is also a SubGenius affiliate, and he has confirmed the Church and “Bob” inspired the name for Slackware.

3

Prince Philip Movement

The Prince Philip Movement is a cargo cult of the Yaohnanen tribe on the southern island of Tanna in Vanuatu. The Yaohnanen believe that Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, the consort to Queen Elizabeth II, is a divine being, the pale-skinned son of a mountain spirit and brother of John Frum. According to ancient tales the son travelled over the seas to a distant land, married a powerful lady and would in time return. The villagers had observed the respect accorded to Queen Elizabeth II by colonial officials and came to the conclusion that her husband, Prince Philip, must be the son from their legends. When the cult formed is unclear, but it is likely that it was sometime in the 1950s or 1960s. Their beliefs were strengthened by the royal couple’s official visit to Vanuatu in 1974 when a few villagers had the opportunity to observe the prince from afar. Prince Philip was made aware of the religion and has exchanged gifts with its leaders and even visited them.

2

The Church of Euthanasia

The Church of Euthanasia (CoE), is a political organization started by the Reverend Chris Korda (pictured above) in the Boston, Massachusetts area of the United States. According to the church’s website, it is “a non-profit educational foundation devoted to restoring balance between Humans and the remaining species on Earth.” The CoE uses sermons, music, culture jamming, publicity stunts and direct action combined with an underlying sense of satire and black humor to highlight Earth’s unsustainable population. The CoE is notorious for its conflicts with Pro-life Christian activists. According to the church’s website, the one commandment is “Thou shalt not procreate”. The CoE further asserts four principal pillars: suicide, abortion, cannibalism (”strictly limited to consumption of the already dead”), and sodomy (”any sexual act not intended for procreation”). Slogans employed by the group include “Save the Planet, Kill Yourself”, “Six Billion Humans Can’t Be Wrong”, and “Eat a Queer Fetus for Jesus”, all of which are intended to mix inflammatory issues to unnerve those who oppose abortion and homosexuality.

1

Nuwaubianism

Nuwaubianism is an umbrella term used to refer to the doctrines and teachings of the followers of Dwight York. The Nuwaubians originated as a Black Muslim group in New York in the 1970s, and have gone through many changes since. Eventually, the group established a headquarters in Putnam County, Georgia in 1993, which they have since abandoned. York is now in prison after having been convicted on money laundering and child molestation charges, but Nuwaubianism endures. York developed Nuwaubianism by drawing on a wide range of sources which include Theosophy-derived New Age movements such as Astara as well as the Rosicrucians, Freemasonry, the Shriners, the Moorish Science Temple of America, the revisionist Christianity & Islam and the Qadiani cult of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, the numerology of Rashad Khalifa, and the ancient astronaut theories of Zecharia Sitchin. White people are said in one Nuwaubian myth to have been originally created as a race of killers to serve blacks as a slave army, but this plan went awry. Here is a list of some of the more unusual Nuwaubian beliefs:

1. It is important to bury the afterbirth so that Satan does not use it to make a duplicate of the recently-born child
2. Furthermore, some aborted fetuses survive their abortion to live in the sewers, where they are being gathered and organized to take over the world
3. People were once perfectly symmetrical and ambidextrous, but then a meteorite struck Earth and tilted its axis causing handedness and shifting the heart off-center in the chest
4. Each of us has seven clones living in different parts of the world
5. Women existed for many generations before they invented men through genetic manipulation
6. Homo sapiens is the result of cloning experiments that were done on Mars using Homo erectus
7. Nikola Tesla came from the planet Venus
8. The Illuminati have nurtured a child, Satan’s son, who was born on 6 June 1966 at the Dakota House on 72nd Street in New York to Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis of the Rothschild/Kennedy families. The Pope was present at the birth and performed necromantic ceremonies. The child was raised by former U.S. president Richard Nixon and now lives in Belgium, where it is hooked up bodily to a computer called “The Beast 3M” or “3666.”

The Nuwaubians built a city modelled on Ancient Egyptian buildings in Putnam County, Georgia (pictured above). It has now been demolished.