Imani Tafari-Ama | Policing public spaces in Jamaica

Prohibitions restricting citizens’ access to public spaces of leisure in Jamaica is a notorious violation of human rights. For several years, advocates have agitated against the shrinking access to public beaches as more and more tourist-serving hotels have expanded their infrastructural possession of this endangered resource. The National Environment and Planning Agency (NEPA) has provided elaborate responses to such critics.

Despite NEPA’s disclaimer that several beach facilities are still open for public use, the bruising advocacy campaigns have left state authorities on the backfoot and rights champions feeling that somehow, they got shafted in the discourse. Beaches have become the flashpoint for citizens’ discontent about the dwindling availability of leisure spaces for the general public.

Parks also provide a barometer to measure brewing trouble in Paradise, as far as enjoyment of some such leisure spaces is concerned. Countering that impression, Emancipation Park provides symbolic, as well as scenic expression of citizens’ right to enjoy aesthetic and functional sites of being free. However, rural rumblings that security sanctions of citizens’ use of such facilities is a cultural norm, raises a red flag warning.

I grew up in Albion on the outskirts of Mandeville in Manchester. I went to Manchester High School at a time when the famous Ferdinand Gunter was the principal. He collected seashells and made jewellery, which he would display for the school’s enjoyment.

Mr. Gunter was the kind of wordsmith who reminded us that Jamaica means “Jah mek yah”. Memorably, he admonished us in devotion one morning, “Do not purchase comestibles from the itinerant vendors.” In other words, “do not buy snacks from casual salespersons”. We were regulated by moral yardsticks of no mean order.

LEGENDARY

This was also the era when Cecil Charlton was the mayor. He held office for many years and established a regime of community cleanliness, which was legendary. Each citizen was infused with the civic responsibility of taking care of the city. There was zero tolerance for littering the streets. As students, we were forbidden to eat on the street, especially while in uniform.

We took ownership of this space. We felt that coming from this cool, cool parish and living in this pristine environment was something to be proud of. As a matter of fact, sitting in the park was something that we took pride in. We were heartened that the city made the effort to make us feel comfortable. I remember when a television was installed in the park to enable those who did not have this facility to have access to electronically transmitted edu-tainment.

Imagine my shock and awe therefore, when reminiscing with my friend, Pat Byrd about the good old days of growing up in Mandeville, to hear of some of the current disruption of old standards. Speaking of the park, Pat even waxed poetic in explaining the restrictions currently being faced by citizens who want to simply take a stroll around the park.

Miss Byrd regaled me with the disturbing story of being prevented by the security guard on duty from enjoying some moments of relaxation. She said that her grandson, who bore witness to the event, was so traumatised by the hyper-surveillance approach of the security guard that he would not stop talking about it for several days.

Here’s how Ms. Byrd expressed her outrage:

Mi Need Fi Go Park Inna Wi Park

What is the purpose of a park

If someone is hovering over you

like a hawk?

No peace, no time for admiration

No relaxation or time for reflection

No place to kick up your feet

close your eyes

Find a spot to kneel, meditate and

say a prayer.

Tell me, who knows the purpose of a park?

It’s a place for peace and not war

A place to admire people

As they go bу

A place of relaxation

under the cool shade of a

tree nearby

A place to kick up your tired feet

Close your eyes take a nap or go sleep.

Instead of a tranquil situation

Here’s someone hovering over you

like a mad hawk

Policing your every move

Ruffling your feathers

Frowning and swearing

Even at times

all you overhear

is a voice sounding

like a bark.

“Don’t touch this, don’t touch that”

“Don’t step there, don’t eat here

“Don’t sit there, don’t run

That’s no place at all to have

A little fun.

Can someone please tell me

Who made all these rules and regulations

When this Park was established

donkey years ago

it was made for fun and relaxation.

I was born and raised in this town

Mass Cecil or Mr C as he was well known

Made sure to set this place apart

He did it all from the bottom of his heart.

We need to open more of the gates

And make the place

more inviting

that’s the original intention

Instead it seems we’re in suffocation

fenced inside

It’s like an open prison

except there are no walls.

All this policing everyday

There certainly must be some other way

For all the people to do their part

To enjoy the Cecil Charlton Park

We know how to enjoy its beauty

But we need the freedom to

Do our duty

To respect the space

and keep it clean

But don’t treat me as outsider

You know what I mean?

The park belongs to the people

please be informed

It’s not owned by some

organized group

in our society

Who chose to fund it

just for selfish recognition

Instead of the joy

and well-being of everyone.

Relax folks, let’s enjoy the Park

We don’t need to have

someone

watching over us

ready to attack like a shark

Don’t scare the innocent children

Don’t raise your voice

Don’t stress yourself

Take a pill before someone gets killed.

Make every park a place of peace

A place to relax even get on your knees

A place to sit, meditate, put up your tired feet

Spread a blanket under a shady tree

Relax and listen as the birdies

their chorus sing

Listen to the rustling of the leaves

A place to relax and set our minds at ease

That’s the whole and sole

purpose of a park.

A word to the wise is sufficient.

Imani Tafari-Ama, PhD, is a Pan-African advocate and gender and development specialist. Send feedback to i.tafariama@gmail.com and columns@gleanerjm.com.