Church leaders may rage against it, but Jamaicans are ignoring the voices from the pulpit to obey the sing song command of Three Han Chan, and others, to buy their lucky numbers and win.In recent times the take from local lottery sales have billowed into billions of dollars. As yet another game comes on stream Lifestyle went to a little town in St. Thomas where playing the lottery is a matter of survival for some.
Avia Ustanny, Freelance Writer
TIA IRVINE is a tiny, unremarkable looking woman several inches shy of five feet. She wears her hair in large plaits and seems unconcerned about getting anyone's admiring attention.
Irvine, aged 33, is unemployed but, unlike other women in her situation, does not need to attract anyone through elaborate hairdos or other ways of looking good. She has Luck, and she catches him everyday. Her smile on a recent Thursday morning is as bright as a woman in love.
Tia Irvine is one of several hundred people who buy Cash Pot, the Supreme Ventures lottery game, everyday at a snack shop in Seaforth, St. Thomas. A minimum purchase of $20 may net buyers as much as $5,200 -- if they win.
They come from the dust-covered streets and from tributary roads of nearby hillside communities to buy numbers they see in visions. On bicycles, feet clad in shoes, bare feet, in cars, battered and new, they come. Their hands reach into wallets and pockets pulling out money and a precious piece of paper with the numbers they may have received in a dream.
In Seaforth, where -- as in other rural communities -- unemployment is above the national average. Cash Pot winners treat the game like a job. Some clock in at 7:00 a.m. and turn up again before 7:00 p.m. when this lone outlet closes.
Owner of the Cash Pot sales point Alrick "Ricky" Miller says that members of this low-income community, about 10 kilometres from the St. Thomas capital Morant Bay, often spend only $10 and $20, but "they actually send their children to school out of it. It's a job for most of them. There is nothing else in the community," he says.
Even those of retirement age turn up daily in hope of a win. Dennis Nembhard, 71, is spending $140 the day that Lifestyle visits. He will buy eight sets of numbers at least one of which, he calculates, must play. He has won on several occasions, with the biggest haul being $1,600.
For others, who have willingly left their jobs, the stakes are higher and they spend big money to win big.
CAN'T KICK THE $2,000 A DAY LOTTERY HABIT
Errol Ramsay, a 59-year-old Seaforth resident arrives in an ancient white car -- a man with an embattled look. Later we hear that his family -- Christians -- disapproves of his $2,000 a day Cash Pot habit. But, he cannot stop. He is hooked.
"From I start buy -- nearly two years ago -- I don't stop. I win frequently. I catch over $4,000 most of the time. Last week Friday I collected over $50,000. I buy hard so I lose hard too," he confesses.
Ramsay, who long abandoned his regular business in favour of numbers game, buys one number for between $300 and $2,000. "Now I just play Cash Pot. I come here two times a day." When he wins, he "puts the money in my pocket, that's all. It pays the bills and keep things going."
Forty-two-year-old Loris Henry plays Cash Pot "night and day". Sometimes she wins both plays. She plays small and wins small, but that is enough for her, she says. She spends between $20 and $200 on the numbers and has won as much as $5,000. Henry sells up at the primary school nearby and uses her winnings, she says, to buy goods and throw her daily partner.
THE POOR LOSERS -- CAN'T WIN A THING
Not everyone turns up at Ricky's with a smiling face. Sixty-eight-year-old Charles Duckett, a shoemaker, tells us that he does not buy regularly, for "sometime when you buy and buy and can't win anything" and it is disappointing.
Dawn Micthell, 31, says, "I don't buy because I can't win. Sometimes I spend all $500 and I don't win a thing.
No matter the losers, there are those who in Seaforth who figure that the game is better than a steady job, topping any wage they could earn. At Ricky's shop the flow of hopefuls is steady but there is a surge at 11:30 am when the buyers believe that Supreme Ventures have already decided which numbers not to play on because of the high rate of sale. At this time, shortly before the winning number is selected, they flock to buy and to "outwit Mr. Chin."
Miller, 36 years old, who opened his snack corner after years of working in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, is pleased with it all. He says business was slow until he got the Cash Pot machine and started selling numbers. He remembers, "At first I thought that maybe 30 people would come in each day."
Indeed, it was first just a trickle, but on the fourth day, there was a "bomb rush" and it has continued. Things became so good, with crowds inside the store and at the windows that Miller subsequently moved to a bigger section of the building and closed off an area for Cash Pot sales. "It overshadowed my original business and I had to go back to the drawing board and find a system to deal with it," he explains. He also implemented an express line. Now, on the busiest days when 1,000 people turn up things still flow smoothly.
WINNING BY DREAMS
Anything that happens during the course of the day is liable to be used in selecting the numbers. A baby, brought by her mother to the store, breaks away and starts to play with a stranger. The mother buys number for baby mother, as she thinks the moment is auspicious.
Some people use accidents. Or, if they see two dogs fighting, they will buy 11 for dog and 2 for the fight. But, most people use dreams." In the morning, you will know what anybody dream, says Miller the shop owner and interpreter of dreams.
As if to prove his point, an old man arrives and, resting hip on the snack shop's glass case, begins the story of what he dreamt last night -- without even a "good morning".
"I last night I dream seh a breddren try sell me some cocaine -- white, white. But I can't remember how much him ask me fi pay. Ricky comments: "If you don't remember, buy 13.
The man muses. "13..., but I will buy 1 too, one for white the colour of cocaine.
He proceeds to tell the shopkeeper about another dream. "Yesterday I dream that a bird -- white, white -- hit the fence and him feather fly. Is the whitest bird I ever see. I forget it and the 1 play. I going play it again today."
Ricky is grinning at this discourse. He is happy. "Most people measure success financially, but, this is how I help. I feel good about those who win."
Though sales in this rural location have fallen since October (perhaps because of illegal Cash Pot sellers) there is still a steady flow of buyers. Most of the big buyers still spend between $500 and $1,000 each day. A few spend in the region of $2,000 daily.
Though Supreme Ventures has declined to state the comparative sales figures for Seaforth, it would appear that the enthusiasm of buyers is unusual for the rural community, and especially such a poor one.
"Cash Pot is a blessing for me," says Ricky Miller. "Business was slow right here as all the happenings are in the Square down the road. Now I can look forward to even selling more snacks. It is whole lot of responsibility. I used to have more free time. Now I open at 7:00 in the morning until 7:00 in the night.
The stress does not end with closing time. They come to his home at odd hours for dream interpretations or, straight up, to ask him what number is going to play. Some believe that the vendor has inside information that will make their choice of the winning number an easy one.
The systems that people choose to select their numbers are endless. Errol Ramsay says, when I started I used to win off dreams, off unusual things. Now I look on the play and just play. For instance, if they play a certain number this evening, I am going to buy that card for $2,000.
Loris Henry uses the Kent -- the printed chart which has all the dates of the year and suggested numbers to play. She uses dreams too. "Sometimes I just get the number. I get it plain. Last week I get the 33 plain and I win $2,600 off it."
Others use Gary Larsons's 'The Far Side', which is published in the Jamaica Observer daily. On the day Lifestyle visits, a debate is raging as to what Larson means by "Unfair names for animals.' One man searches the Cash Pot book for the number for ugly animals, as he is sure that this is the meaning.
Miller has his own method of 'catching the rake', a logical system of winning. "If you have $200 to spend, buy 15 numbers so that it gives you more chances to win. I have seen people do it that way and most times they are winners. They call it cotch. Even though one may spend more on a dream, this is the best."
He should know. Last year, in the height of Cash Pot fever, he paid out as much as $150,000 a day in winnings. The largest ticket he has ever paid on brought in $39,000. the vendor cannot pay out more than $50,000. If the winnings are larger, they have to take their tickets to Kingston. "I know a man who won over $100,000 in one week by cotching.
His customer, Nadine, who will not give her last name, admits to having bought shoes, dresses, gotten new hairdos and purchased wedding presents with her winnings.
As for Tia Irvine, she tells us with a grin: "When a just you luck, them can't stop you. Me buy me fan, carpet, table, me pay school fee. If me did have a job me still woulda buy.
Today she is spending all of $520, with $200 of the amount placed on the number 7. Looking deeply into our eyes, she says, I just love the seven.
At 1:00 pm. the number 7 plays. Tia's luck comes home again.
