Where is my Frenno Gilly ?? you peep and gone, you gat nothing to add here bhai.
Look, comrade, I read your opening statement all right. I think you bend forward too low, or backward too far, to make your point. You did not feel like a second-class citizen and I refused to consider myself a second-class citizen in my native land. But it was no bloody paradise under the PNC regime. That is why I joined the PPP in 1969, to help bring about change.
Cheddi Jagan never got tired repeating that the Burnham regime practised racial and political discrimination not only in employment and promotions but also in awarding contracts and permits and so on. Jagan talked about nepotism and favoritism in the PNC government.
I worked one year as a government-school teacher and six years as a public servant while at the same time being a PPP activist. I conducted myself professionally on the job and kept party politics out. While I was not personally harassed in the workplace, I know of many others who suffered terribly and were kicked out on to the street.
Outa de wukplace, here is my unfortunate experience:
 One Sunday afternoon in 1972 I placed my paperback book on someone's bicycle at Metropole Cinema to comb my hair. I walked to the ticket booth without the book. When I went back to the cycle rack the book had disappeared. In one minute.
 One Saturday night in 1973 I took a girlfriend to Globe cinema. Big crowd by the ticket booth. I removed my watch from my wrist and placed it in my pants pocket. I joined the crush to buy tickets. When we sat down in Balcony, there was no watch in my pocket. Obviously, a master pickpocket got it.
 One Sunday night in 1978, after visiting another girlfriend at Ogle, I walked through Old Road to the Public Road. A well-dressed black guy was standing there. I asked him if he was waiting long for transportation and he shook his head in the negative. I turned away and was looking out for a hire care when suddenly that guy lifted my hand and took my watch. With a small pistol pointing at my stomach he took my wallet from my pocket and said: Don't stand hey. Turn back." I had $20.50 in the wallet, so I asked him for the 50 cents for car fare. He said: F you. Go long yuh way." And he jammed the gun to my chest. I turned back and slept in Ogle that night.
 One Tuesday night in 1981 I was riding my spanking new blue Caloi bicycle on Irving Street. At the junction of Woolford Avenue where there was a zebra crossing, I pulled the brake to allow a fat black man to pass. As soon as he was in front me, he swung his fists and gave me a few cuffs on my face. I let go of the cycle and he rode away with it down dark Woolford Avenue. That night a doctor applied 4 stitches to my lip at the public hospital.
 Another time, broad daylight, I was walking on Robb Street when, in front Cho-Kit-Ling Bar a guy came up and tried to snatch my watch. He didn't get it.
 One July night in 1992, I was walking on Longden Street when suddenly I felt a seemingly friendly hug on my shoulder and heard a guy saying: "Wha happening, friend!!" while he was trying to relieve me of my watch. Well, I pulled my hand away and had the presence of mind to say: "You don't know a police officer when you see one?" He hesitated but won't move. I told him to get lost before I summon my "squaddy" who was patrolling in front Demico House. He walked. I could have tried that policeman tack on him because I'm tall and had recently got a haircut. I was lucky.