By Johnny Coomansingh
During my childhood, I listened to many ‘nansi stories. I am still asking myself why the storytellers tell me these stories. Did I learn anything from hearing these fables?
Nevertheless, I find myself at times sharing these same stories with others. Whether it is for political, social, economic or environmental reasons, it’s quite possible that there seems to be an oral tradition that must be transmitted, and maintained for future generations. The scary ghost stories were one thing, but there were other stories that carried a deeper message of wisdom.
One of the first stories that I could relate to in this genre is Trouble Make the Monkey Eat Pepper. Here’s the story: “An old woman was accustomed to transporting her molasses in a calabash. Unbeknownst to her, a monkey was sitting up in a mango tree watching her as she ambled on her way home. The monkey was inquisitive as to what was in the calabash. There was this day that the old woman stumbled and fell on the rough path. Sadly, the calabash broke and all the molasses spilled on the ground. She said: “Look at mih trouble on this road.” She tried to scoop up as much as she could but left quite a bit a treacle on the road. Dejectedly she walked away.
The monkey was only too happy at the old lady’s demise. He came down and tasted the molasses which to him was a nice puddle of trouble. To him, the trouble tasted good so he went to the grocer to buy some trouble. At the grocer, he asked to buy some trouble and the grocer acted in kind by putting two dogs in a bag. In glee, the monkey took his trouble to the adjacent savannah where he thought that he could have his fill of the sweet treat. He opened the bag and outrushed the angry dogs. The dogs chased him all day around the field. There was one tree in the middle of the savannah, a tall tree full of thorns (pickah) on its bark and a nest of wasps at the top.
Without anywhere else to go, the monkey hastily climbed the pickah tree and remained there with the stinging wasps until the dogs got tired and left. Hungry and full of pickah stuck on him, in pain he climbed down the pickah tree. On his way to the mango tree he espied a laden hot pepper tree. He stopped and ate every pepper on the tree.
The moral of the story is simple. Our political interpretations of what we hear sometimes – does not really materialize in what we see or believe to have seen. Some people believe that what you see is what you get. Occasionally, what you see is what you don’t get. Moreover, don’t go asking for trouble because you might end up eating pepper. As Ian Alleyne said on his television show Crime Watch: “Trouble does come on a horse and leave on a snail.”
After spending eight years studying in the United States of America I returned to Trinidad to complete research for my doctoral dissertation titled: Commodification and Distribution of the Steelpan as a Conflicted Tourism Resource. Since the subject was about the Steelpan or Pan, I decided that my first stop would be at the PanTrinbago office in Port of Spain, and what a reception it was.
It’s quite possible that PanTrinbago did not recognize that I was writing about Pan. I could be that they were unprepared to answer the many questions that I had. Maybe they thought that I should not be the one to be writing about the national instrument. Who knows? Smiles in that office were few, far, and in between. I have no reservations to state that PanTrinbago treated me badly; in other words, yes, with scant courtesy, possibly contempt. Note well, PanTrinbago is recognized as the parent body for steel bands not only in Trinidad and Tobago but in all parts of the world where such bands may exist.
At this point, I must switch to the Trini dialect that I love so much. Dey didn’t even offer mih ah glass ah water. Ah felt as though dat ah was ah intruder, a paltry wretched soul, a beggar. I was told to go sit at some derelict, unkempt table made sticky with spilled soft drink in the hallway and wait. I waited, and waited like the alligator on the riverbank. The person who attended to me was all too busy. I had to return to the office at least three times and I still didn’t get all that I wanted. If yuh din know, ah must pause here tuh tell yuh di story titled: Monkey Liver Soup taken from my book: Sweet and Sour Trinidad and Tobago:
“Dat alligator was around long before dem greedy Trinis start tuh gobble up dem caiman (alligator) in Trinidad. Tuh cut ah long story short, ah monkey did geh ah ride over ah river on ah alligator back. The lil monkey thought dat he was getting a free ride, but not so, dat alligator had a surreptitious plan. Midway across di river, di alligator start tuh sing ah song dat he wife sick and di doctor say dat di only thing dat go help she recover was monkey liver soup. When the monkey hear dat, he belly start ah wamble and in short order, plastered the alligator’s back with a barrage of feacal matter. Nevertheless, he quickly composed himself and concocted ah plan tuh bamboozle di alligator.
He tell di alligator dat he go gladly gih he di liver tuh make di soup fuh he wife. At di same time he insisted dat di alligator increase his speed tuh di river bank. He tell di alligator dat he din have he liver with him. He besieged the alligator with a story that all monkeys does have tuh remove dey liver every day and wash it and hang it up tuh dry. Di alligator said, “What?” The monkey said, “Yes, dat is how we does know if we liver clean enough tuh make soup. Ah tell yuh right up dey on dat bamboo tree ah lil higher up di river bank is whe ah lef mih liver tuh dry before ah went across di river dis morning. Even yuh pardners see when ah hang it up dey dis morning.”
So di alligator accelerated his speed and almost crashed into di bamboo tree. Di monkey hustled up di tree and left di alligator wondering. Hear di alligator: “Yuh find it yet?” The alligator is still on di river bank waiting fuh ah answer, just like me who waited and waited. What is the moral of the story? In essence, the story teaches that even when faced with a seemingly impossible situation, a little bit of cleverness and quick thinking can lead to a successful escape and survival. So it is with the politics in Trinidad and Tobago. Despite the circumstances, we must think about who to vote for; who could outsmart who…alligator or monkey.
There’s another monkey story that I love to share. In terms of politics, I always refer to the story: Two Cats, a Monkey and a Piece of Cheese. Presently, the general elections polling date, April 28, 2025, was announced in Trinidad and Tobago. The issue at hand is about who is smarter, who gets the cheese. At stake is the position of leader of the nation in parliament, and obviously, access to the treasury, the real cheese. Now for the story:
Two cats were walking along the road when they stumbled upon a nice chunk of cheese. Their eyes ogled as they espied the cheese. “Someone must have dropped this piece of cheese,” they reasoned. “Anyway, we found the cheese and its now ours for the keeping,” they said. Moments later an argument started about how they will divide the cheese. They couldn’t come to an agreement because of the mere fact about who saw the cheese first; big argument in the road. Just then they recalled that down the lane there was a monkey with a scale. “Eureka!” That sounds like a plan!” they shouted. In unison they lifted the cheese and together they visited the wise old monkey; the only monkey in the province with a registered scale.
The cats believed that everything would be alright so they approached the hovel where the monkey lived. “Good evening Monkey, we cats came for you to equally divide this cheese that we found.” “O certainly my feline friends,” said the monkey. “Let me clean up my scale and oil it up a bit before I begin to weigh the cheese. You know I could weigh anything in this world, but cheese is a bit tricky to weigh, especially that kind of cheese you have there. Don’t worry, just put the cheese on the cutting block so I could cut it in two,” the monkey requested.
The monkey raised his machete and with one swipe cut the cheese in two pieces and immediately put them on the scale, one piece on the left and one piece on the right. The scale did not balance so the monkey bit off a piece of the cheese on the right. Now the piece on the left was too heavy and bit off a piece on the left. And so the monkey kept biting off mouthfuls of the cheese from the left side and right side of the scale until the cheese disappeared. The cats looked at each other, in dismay. The monkey was as cunning as a fox. He ate the whole chunk of cheese right before their eyes. So it is with politicians. In Trinidad and Tobago there is this situation as reported by Radhica De Silva in her article: ‘Kamla: I have to accept pay increase.’ [(Trinidad Guardian (14/02/2025)]:
“In November 2024, the Salaries Review Commission (SRC) recommended significant salary increases for top government officials. The prime minister’s monthly salary was proposed to rise from $59,680 to $87,847, a 47 per cent increase, effective October 1, 2023. The president’s salary was set to increase by 26 percent to $81,170, effective April 1, 2023. The opposition leader’s salary was recommended to increase from $29,590 to $52,159, a 76 per cent hike, effective October 1, 2023. Persad-Bissessar previously opposed the increases, stating, “I don’t believe the prime minister should get an increase at this time. I don’t believe the president should get an increase at this time. I don’t believe that Kamla Persad-Bissessar, the Opposition Leader, should get an increase at this time—no, no! Now isn’t the time when you’re offering people one percent, two percent, four percent—it’s obscene! It’s disrespectful at this time.”
I learnt in primary school the maxim: ‘A politician thinks in terms of the next election but a statesman thinks in terms of the next generation.’ In Trinidad and Tobago, there’s a line in the national anthem: “Here every creed and race find an equal place” but as far as I could see, there is no such thing; this will happen maybe in the next junnum. As George Orwell said in his book titled: Animal Farm, “All pigs are equal but some pigs are more equal than others.” This phase exposes the hypocrisy of a system that promises equality but allows for the concentration of power and privilege in the hands of a select few, and right now politicians on the hustings are fighting tooth and nail to retain that power and privilege.
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