If I Were PM Mia

 

 

If I were PM Mottley

I would do a January again,

I tell you, even to mention this

Causes the DLP pain.

 

Caught in January, 22

With their pants down,

Not a single seat did the DLP win

Second time around.

 

Now four years after

Not much has changed

Apart from greater splintering

And more disarranged.

 

More was expected

With the advent of Thorne

But there was some seismic activity

And the DLP lost its form.

 

Now out of shape

And severely splintered,

There is seemingly no chance

In the immediate future.

 

Hence, my advice to Mia

Is to call the election,

Do not wait, I am advising her,

Until 2027.

 

She will be guaranteed

Another thirty-nil

And five more years until 2031

To have her fill.

 

 

 

Thus, she will be revered

Like Barrow and Arthur:

Both had three successive terms

And lost thereafter.

 

 

 

Then she could go one up

If her life is spared,

Another General Election win 2036

Will move her clear.

 

I must be dreaming

And talking in my sleep,

If you heard me fellow Barbadians,

Please do not repeat.

 

Rather, tell the DLP

To get their act together,

For if this is not to come true

They must do better.

 

Nothing among four

Is nothing at all,

Zero is what the PM would call it;

That is her call. 

 

Zero charge to parents

For free education,

Never mind, of course, there is

Burdensome taxation.

 

Ralphie doesn’t get it

But neither do I

And that I have long left the system,

I cannot deny.

 

 

 

So, Ralphie and Ronnie,

Kemar and Karina,

Please come together and instead,

Fight PM Mia.

 

You might get a few seats,

Maybe four or five

And in memory of Errol Barrow,

Let the DLP survive.

 

For it is about to die

Imploding from within

And prospects for winning a seat

Appear quite dim.

 

 

 

But I am not PM Mia

For she is one of a kind

And she will call the next election

In her own time.

 

Stewart Russell © December 10, 2025

 

Reflecting and Projecting

 

 

A reflective look

To that first Independence Day

Very early in the morning

Before black turned to grey.

 

Very muddy conditions

When our flag ascended

Flying proudly in the night air;

Colonialism then ended.

 

Me, just 13 years old,

But proud to be present

Though at that very early stage

Void of the full essence.

 

 

Essence of its reality,

Essence of its responsibility,

Essence of no longer a colony,

Essence of accountability.

 

Essence of growing pains

And setting goals,

Essence of success and failure

And relentless blows.

 

A very short honeymoon

And the fairy tale effect;

Our people our greatest resource

Regarding what to expect.

 

  

A thrilling moment it was;

All will be great!

My understanding of Independence

Though not here of late.

 

We’ve come a long way

O’er mountain and thro’ vale

And a signal moment of reflection

Reveals this trail.

 

Chronicled in our history

Etched in our minds,

From Errol Barrow to Mia Mottley

Across the annals of time.

 

 

 

And in between:

Tom Adams and Bree St John,

Sandiford and Arthur

All four now gone.

 

Thompson and Stuart

The former also gone

Being the second shortest stint

Before passing on.

 

Just two of seven

Remain with us today;
Stuart, having been ousted,

Mottley holds sway.

 

An impressive journey

Since our Independence

Though, not without ups and downs

And times of turbulence.

 

 

Presently a Republic

Approaching three years

But can we say like the Anthem,

No doubts or fears?

 

Me thinks not

For we have changed face

And things we once held dear

Have been replaced.

 

"The price for progress"

Some will no doubt remark

But the truth be told

We are in the dark.

 

Community is weakened

While the block thrives,

And almost every single day

Another youth dies.

 

 

 

Either by the gun

Or the cutlass or knife

One of our greatest National assets

Loses his life.

 

The church in absentia

Is praying without ceasing

But the reckless taking of life

Is still increasing.

 

The police constabulary

And the judiciary:

Both appear to be in the dark

Regarding this mystery.

 

 

Cases going back

For many a year

And recidivism on the increase

Adding to our fear.

 

Offenders offered bail

To reoffend again

And this being done repeatedly

Like summer rain.

 

And our Republic

Still awaiting a constitution

Almost three years in the making

Since its coronation.

 

 

I was not present

But I saw it on television:

The inauguration of our President

Dame Sandra Mason.

 

Rihanna was presented

For National Hero honours,

Barbados having received from her

Timely financial favours.

 

The eleventh recipient

Of this honour thus far

With Rihanna Drive also an honour

To this international star.

 

 

Weathering COVID-19

That horrible pandemic

That sucked our country’s blood

Leaving it anemic.

 

Yet navigating it

Better than most

While to several tourist liners

Being a merciful host.

 

Some stranded Trinis

Were given safe refuge here

When their own national authorities

Refused them there.

 

 

Such were the suspicions

Of relentless COVID-19

That held no regard for commoners

Or the Queen.

 

COVID-19 was a leveler

Of the rich and the poor

Many of whom lost that battle

And are seen no more.

 

 

So, as we approach

Our fifty-eighth birthday,

Let us give Almighty God thanks

For yet another year.

 

And as we map a course

For the Nation’s future

Let us be particularly mindful

To put God in the picture.

 

For righteousness

Still exalts a nation

And God is forever deserving

Of our adoration.

 

Stewart Russell © November 27, 2024