59 and Counting

 

 

My name is Bim

I’ve a birthday coming up,

For fifty-nine years I would say

I’ve had a mixed cup.

 

59 Independent years

Since that night in ’66,

With PM Errol Barrow I thought

All would be fixed.

 

In Nineteen-Seventy-Six

He was voted out

And with the change to PM Adams

I was having doubts.

 

But PM Adams did well,

The Opposition on his heel

And I continued to truly flourish

Moving on with speed.

 

But very suddenly,

PM Adams passed away

And I must confess for me and others

That was a very sad day.

 

PM St. John took over

And his stay was very short,

Due to a rejuvenated Errol Barrow

That made St. John snort.

 

Barrow followed Tom Adams

In the land of no PM’s

And I was thrown into mourning again

Almost without end.

 

Erskine, the Educator,

Took over from PM Barrow

But confusion occurred in the DLP

Making them shallow.

 

A leadership contention

Led to a no-confidence

And the motion headed by Owen Arthur

Led to an election event.

 

Enter PM Owen Arthur

A mix of Errol and Tom,

A leader in the regional movement

Making me feel warm.

 

 

 

With a spring in my step

I surged forward again

Where before it had seemed to many

I had become lame.

 

Under Arthur’s leadership

I was doing very well,

Three terms he was Prime Minister

And I truly excelled.

 

Three PMs died in office,

PM Thompson was the third,

PM Stuart took over from Thompson;

To him the others deferred.

 

Thrice in my history

I have had caretaker PMs,

Namely: Sandiford, St. John and Stuart,

S’s all attend.

 

Stuart gave way to Mottley

Who loomed very large,

With two thirty-love mandates,

She is definitely in charge.

 

 

 

Her major challenge to-date

Was the Corona Virus,

COVID-19 was its nomenclature

And it was very tough.

 

Curfews were imposed

Along with working on line

And with every waking moment,

COVID filled the mind.

 

PM Mottley did well

And alleviated my fears,

I even accommodated some Trinis

Who were in despair.

 

I gave safe harbour

To some tourist ships

Since nobody else was inclined

To offer it.

 

A snap election was called

While still in COVID

And while it baffled me intensely

It was another thirty-nil.

 

Independence in 1966

Republic in 2022,

And I have come a very long way

But still much to do.

 

 

 

My 1^st President’s tenure

Is coming to an end,

I thank God for her stewardship;

She’s a faithful friend.

 

Four years almost past

Are fleetingly like one,

She is royalty with a common touch;

It’ll hurt to see her gone.

 

Fare ye well, Dame Sandra,

When your term is done,

Like PM Barrow, you were the first

And this none can outrun.

 

I have weathered storms

Of varying kinds

And currently widespread reform

Is uppermost on my mind.

 

Same old, same old

Under the guise of reform

But the truth be told as I, Bim, see,

Talk is still the norm.

 

 

59 and counting

Though not quite there yet,

Looking forward to anniversary #60

Hoping my needs are met. 

 

Economic stability,

Education and social needs,

Moral and spiritual reclamation

And doing noble deeds.

 

Raising up my children

In the fear of the Lord

And reestablishing across my schools

His Holy Word.

 

 

 

Just a note from Bim

To restore my former beauty

And to every Bajan here and abroad,

This is your civic duty.

 

Stewart Russell © November 18, 2025