Lord, have mercy

by Din Duggan

For this column, I intended to write an open letter to Prince Harry of Wales as he tours Jamaica to mark his grandmother's Diamond Jubilee. After all, how often does one have the chance to write to real-life royalty - a letter that might actually find its way into its intended recipient's hands? But in the face of my shining opportunity, the words eluded me.

After a few moments of idea generating, if not Bellevue-qualifying, behaviour - shadow-boxing around the house like Rocky or 'Shrimpy' Clarke, sweating out my life on the treadmill, and singing along to a strange collation of Popcaan, John Mayer, and Common - it finally hit me: I don't give a damn about Prince Harry of Wales, Queen Elizabeth, or her Jubilee.

I'm sorry. Those words are too strong. What I meant to say is that I don't particularly care for monarchs or their monarchical merriment. Prince Harry seems like a cool hombre. But how will his visit, and its accompanying fanfare, improve Jamaica?

Will Clansman and One Order stop terrorising the people of Spanish Town? Will the homeless man at the Mountain View Texaco finally get his life together? Will the visit cause a ray of light to seep into the darkened home and heart of some young, poverty-stricken, socially marginalised boy in a forgotten corner of Kingston, inspiring him to regain faith in his own potential, study hard, and grow to become an Oxford-educated, divinely inspired, desperately needed leader? And while deciding between Oxford and Cambridge, will the boy still require a visa to visit the schools?

Letter 1

Actually, I do have a brief letter for the prince:

Dear Prince Harry of Wales:

After 300 years of slavery and colonisation, and countless instances of brutality, do we really need a visa to visit your bloody country?

Lord, have mercy on your monarchy.

Letter 2

Dear Prime Minister Simpson Miller:

In an interview with Bloomberg News, you reportedly said: "If we could get a bailout like Greece, Lord, have mercy, you would see Jamaica grow and flourish."

Your words have ignited quite the firestorm. No fire raged within me, though. I'm not worried about capital markets - the collective intelligence of the markets would have almost immediately discounted your words as mere blunder. And the moral hazard which you embrace - forgiving unwelcome behaviour (such as our persistent debt mismanage-ment and lack of productivity and innovation) only to encourage more misbehaviour - is moot since no entity in its right mind is bailing us out of anything. I'm not even concerned that you mangled The Queen's English in advance of a visit from The Queen's emissary.

My one concern is that, as the leader of our blessed nation, you ventured on to the world stage and took our Lord's name in vain.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Letter 3

Dear Lord:

On Monday, You commissioned another angel.

In my column 'Where is God?', published November 16, 2011, I wrote of Latoya 'Latty' Lawes, who in October last year learned that her cancer had reached the point at which continued treatment was no longer worthwhile. What I didn't share, and what Latty didn't know, is that her doctors estimated she had only one week to live.

Since that time, four months ago, 27-year-old Latoya has lived a life of which many of us mere mortals might only dream. She became Latoya Lawes Williams - marrying her love in a charming ceremony on the beach in Bull Bay. She was finally baptised after two years of desperately wanting but being unable to because of failing health. She returned to work. And she spent precious moments with the love of her life, her two-year-old daughter, Alianna.

Latty's strength inspired countless many, including her doctors, who were so astounded by her progress that they resumed treatment. It was after one of her gruelling rounds of chemotherapy that I visited her. I expected to find a wearied soul desperate to flee her circumstances.

I encountered, instead, a truly inspiring human being - full of life, passion, and faith. We spoke lengthily, not as recent strangers but like long, lost friends. That was Latty: warm and welcoming; affable and engaging; eternally faithful.

On Monday, You deemed it necessary to take Latty from this world to rest by your side for eternity, elevating her to a place loftier than that of princes and prime ministers. May You continue to keep her. May You grant her everlasting peace. And may You, dear Lord, have mercy on her soul.

Din Duggan is an attorney working as a consultant with a global legal search firm. Email him at columns@gleanerjm.com or dinduggan@gmail.com, or view his past columns at facebook.com/dinduggan and twitter.com/YoungDuggan.