By Johnny Coomansingh
In the graduate course Rural Economic Development that I studied in geography, I grasped the concept that some people ‘accumulate for accumulation sake.’ If there was anybody in the world who imperceptibly followed that rule it was Neeta, my godmother. She wanted more money, more land, more houses, the best and fanciest car, anything that could have given her greater prominence, status, and a financial edge over Quero (her husband), his sisters, her relatives, and her neighbours.
Neeta wanted them to look up to her. She always complained about her sisters-in-law. She would say at times, “…dem feel that dey better than mih. Ah go show all ah dem that me eh want nutten from nobody.” Her intentions were to prove that she was rich; self-sufficient, in this world’s goods. It was as though she was in a huge angry competition with the world around her. She had something to prove and she was proving it, but the funny thing was that she wanted to just see the money piling up in the bank, to be proud of her several accounts, and yes, to keep piling up more.
After paying off for her 20-acre cocoa estate, she purchased half an acre just opposite to the Santa Estrella Estate great house located on the Eastern Main Road, Sangre Chiquito. Colmenares Pacheco, a Venezuelan army general, the owner of the estate, occupied this house. Remnants of the old stables, storerooms, and drying houses when ‘cocoa was king’ were visible on the land she now owned. Supported by their buttress-like pillars, the several metal frames and tracks on which the wheels of the roofs rolled were still present in her backyard. Sometime after they were all gone. She was quick to barter with people. The iron tracks were probably sold to the highest bidder.
Having sold her house in Sangre Grande, she decided to live in a shabby old house she bought with the new parcel of land. This house was probably the ‘barracks’ for some of the workers during the era of the Santa Estrella Estate. Adjacent to the house was something like an old garage. It could have been the stable where horses were kept. With a ‘garage’ to house a car she went straightway and bought a car, a Hillman Minx Deluxe. Although she could not drive, she always wanted the car of her dreams. She purposed in her heart to get one and she got the car, for cash!
The vehicle remained in the ‘stable’ collecting dust. Quero drove it from time to time but was too busy driving his taxi and looking after many more things unknown to Neeta. Eventually, a friend of hers started chauffeuring her to and from her cocoa estate located in Kowlessur Road. From the looks of things, the nuances, and the way he spoke with her, I perceived that this person was more than a friend. It seemed that this relationship was intimate; as the saying goes: “Something was in the mortar beside the pestle.” Neeta had her way of hiding her relationships as though everyone was blind. She suffered from ‘the head in the sand with the backside in full view’ syndrome. Her ostrich-like behaviour did not leave anyone guessing. When asked, she would always say: “Nah, he is just ah friend.”
Although there was indoor plumbing there was still no toilet in the house. Neeta moved from her clapboard country house at Kowlessur Road to reside here while building a big new house on one of her adjacent lots. The new house went up with all the frills and flair, but after its completion, it just stood there. For whatever the reason, she continued to live in this dirty, dark, creepy, and unfriendly-looking ‘slave’ house with its weathered, white-washed, Demerara windows.
In this old house there seemed to be a standoff between Neeta and Quero. Neeta had the money and the land. Quero also had some money and his taxi. To me, it seemed as though both of them were waiting for a showdown. Who will be the ‘last man standing?’ The fight for the money, the house and all the land began in earnest.
Quero was not as attentive to Neeta as he used to be. He knew she was ailing with some form of illness and he just waited like a Comodo Dragon to see when she would fall. There was a newly built house and pieces of valuable real estate to claim if she departed. It was amazing to see how money, house and land trigger hate and greed between people who lived all their lives together. The story gets more interesting. Quero was playing it by air, and patient as an alligator on a river bank, he preyed on Neeta’s illness.
From the bush teas she brewed, she was probably suffering from diabetes and high blood pressure. Wild carilli (balsam apple) bush, a herbal remedy known for its use by diabetics was one of the ‘medicines’ she frequently ingested. It seemed that she was afraid or too proud to go visit the doctor. In those days a diabetic was stigmatized. If people knew that you had ‘sugar’ (diabetes) they would laugh and mockingly tease: “How yuh so sweet gyul?”
She was afraid of the stigma of having diabetes and avoided medical guidance. Secretly and silently she contended with the disease by drinking a boiled concoction of several different herbs. Quero himself did not visit the doctor. He seemed strong up and ready to go, not knowing what was happening inside. Many people live in a zone of a false sense of security, and as we all know in Trinidad, ‘the mark will buss one day,’ meaning that everything will come to light, regardless.
Extramarital affairs will play into the relationship between Neeta and Quero. I will not disclose who told me, but Quero had Asha, his ‘outside’ woman and Neeta also had a more or less secretive affair with Quero’s good friend, Massood. From what I witnessed, there could have been others. Until recently, I never had a clue about Quero’s affair, but Neeta’s interest in Massood was as glaring as the noonday sun. There was a day when I was at home on Oropouche Road with Neeta when Massood came. That day she was preparing steamed breadfruit and stewed fish. The dish required salted butter. She quickly welcomed Massood and immediately sent me to go purchase a pound of Norwegian salted cooking butter.
I ran off and walked as fast as he could to Ramroop’s grocery on the Eastern Main Road. I asked for the cooking butter, paid the grocer, and trotted off back to Neeta’s. Apparently, I returned too quickly so she made up some story that this was not the type of butter she wanted and sent me back to Ramroop’s. I was sensible enough to understand that she wanted a little more time with Massood so when I arrived, I went next door to my aunt’s house and waited until Massood left. My cousins knew exactly what was going on because their macometers (a mental meter for minding people’s business) were quite elevated. Their mauvais langue (badmouthing) about Neeta reached a crescendo during those moments.
When I walked up the back steps the back door was locked, so strange. When Neeta is at home, the top section of the back door is usually left open for the cool breezes. Why was it closed today? Neeta could not hide her affair with Massood. Meetings with Massood became even more intense when she went to live at Kowlessur Road. There were times when she would go to the Manzanilla Beach with Massood and leave Boon, her nephew and I at the country house. Sometimes we would go along with them to the beach. Neeta would never go into the water. She would sit in the car with Massood until we were finished seabathing. While Neeta was doing her thing, Quero was also engaged in his very own affair.
From extremely good sources, I was told that Quero had fallen in love with Asha since he was a young man. It is possible he had to hide his love for Asha from his family because of religious beliefs. Asha was not a Muslim. Quero’s father was an imam. They continued their secret affair until Asha was given to another man. Quero’s love for Asha was never vanquished. Asha and her husband lived close to Quero’s father’s house. Domestic violence came into play in Asha’s life. It was sad for Quero when he heard her screams every day while her husband beat her.
Eventually, she would get away from her violent husband and run over to hide under Quero’s house, and Quero would be there with open arms to welcome her. The drama between Quero, Asha and her husband went on for years until Asha ran away for good. Quero lost his love, and although he got married to Neeta, the tender moments he shared with his first love remained riveted in his mind. He became restless as a caged lion and began his quest to find Asha.
As a taxi driver, Quero met with many people from all walks of life. Talk would ensue between passengers and Quero would sometimes join in to give his two cents worth. Somehow he found himself deep in some talk about his ‘woman’ and one thing rolled into each other…the dominoes came crashing down until someone told him that Asha lived in a little village south of the O’Meara Road junction in the Borough of Arima. He hastened to investigate the information and directions he received. Quero was not disappointed.
His quest to find Asha was rewarded. There she was, a little older but still glorious to him. Renewing their love for each other, Quero started visiting Asha daily. A couple of years would fly by with Quero and Asha giving birth to their two children, a boy and a girl. I could now visualize why there was so much cussing (much of it in Patois) and fighting between Neeta and Quero. It is clear, Neeta could not bear children and she knew that Quero had an affair with a woman somewhere. What she didn’t know was that he had children with Asha.
This true story reveals exactly what ‘six of one and half a dozen of the other’ means. Just as Neeta, Quero also had something in the mortar beside the pestle. ‘Cuss outs’ between them proved beyond any doubt that the impasse between the two would never be resolved. They lived their humdrum lives until Neeta passed away, probably much to Quero’s delight.
(Read the rest of this true story in my next article: “A fool and his money…” on Caribbean News Global, (CNG).
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