AL RAWI AND THE THEATRE OF FLOODS

FARIS Al Rawi is a man of theatre who lives for centre stage. 

As perverse as it sounds, Al Rawi appears to revel as the government’s action man in the midst of the epic floods, even as his colleagues lap up World Cup games in their cosy living rooms. 

Ever posturing, he made lightning Sunday stops at flood-ravaged communities, the media in tow, uttering headline-friendly sound bites. 

He met the occasion with a solemn outlook and officialise about what the masses have always known. 

Al Rawi delivered a short-term sweep for his boss, Prime Minister Dr. Keith Rowley, who was not seen – and only barely heard – during the days of devastation. 

The homies are hailing Al Rawi. 

But there was no presence by the national medical sector as leptospirosis, the deadly bacterial disease, is being transmitted in septic waste gushing into foot-high water in the Caroni Plains and elsewhere. 

Thousands of residents – including children – remain vulnerable to the contagious disease as floodwaters swamp vast acres of lowlands. 

The disabled, elderly, and children marooned by the floods and requiring medical support got assistance only from Good Samaritans. 

Taxpayer-funded agencies did not turn up to lift flood victims to safer grounds, with hot meals and medication.  

The Minister of Health, another voluble politician, and the Chief Medical Officer, holder of the country’s highest award, are not visible in the crisis. 

There is only nominal presence by disaster organisations while kind-hearted citizens in fishing pirogues rescue stranded residents at Madras Road and stricken communities. 

Some previously safe districts are reduced to islands, with residents’ valuables swirling in the smelly waters. 

The devastation includes wipe-out of the pre-Christmas vegetable production, along with livestock, poultry, and home furnishings. 

If the past is a guide, compensation would be limited and drawn out.   

The catastrophe in Central Trinidad, Valsayn and several communities along the southern edge of the East-West Corridor results from an overflowing silt-ridden El Carmen River and other waterways. 

The authorities are sitting on reports that the 25-mile-long Caroni River and other rivers and tributaries across the country are in dire need of dredging and maintenance. 

Cunupia River is now a mere three feet wide. 

The Works Minister enters the scene only to visit sites of destruction and to pledge remedial works. 

The wrecking of the seaboard Mayaro-Manzanilla Road is also the direct result of chronic neglect, as are the mudslides, collapsed roads, and broken-down bridges that litter the country. 

The Prime Minister, for his part, casually says infrastructure works would be done in the dry season. 

Now, we must acknowledge that historic floods are a creature of climate change (the recent disasters in Nigeria and Pakistan, for example), but our calamity is facilitated by unremitting disregard for our infrastructure. 

The government is conscious of the solution: A previous Greenvale flood was quickly followed by the dredging of waterways and expansion of retention ponds.  

Just the other day, the Planning Minister was telling the global environmental conference that “a lot has been done” in the climate change challenge.   

As always, though, there are courageous rescuers. 

Credit, too, to citizen journalists, the electronic media, and humanitarians who selflessly provide essentials to those in ruin.  

In inserting himself into the calamity, Al Rawi reminds us of what Valentino eloquently told us in calypso. 

“Life is a stage/And we are the actors/And everybody has a party of play.” 

Al Rawi is playing himself.