“…carnage unleashed…”

Rough Cut
By Felix F. Bethel
The Bahama Journal



What I am trying to say is that something is dreadfully wrong in this place where the police can apparently get away with killing people who – for whatever reason –cross them.

Something has got to be wrong when the people are afraid of the police. And as far as I am concerned, the people are afraid of the police because of the fact that far too many people have been killed at the hands of the police.

And as far as I am concerned, far too many police officers are allowed to carry guns/ and for sure –as the record attests and confirms – far too many law-abiding citizens are losing confidence in the men and women to whom they should be looking for protection.

Another Thursday and –yet again- one day closer to the time when Jesus will come and put an end to all this damned foolishness.

What I’m trying to say is that I am sick and tired of all the killing; sick and tired of all the lies I am told –day in and day out.

And Lord knows - I am sick and tired of all those fine citizens – who even as they call for justice on behalf of some lost soul- are writhing in the coils of bloody vengeance.

In one telling instance, a fine Christian lady told me that if she ever had the opportunity she would use it wisely; and that she would lynch the man who killed her grandson.

When I tried to explain that this would make her a killer, she dismissed me and all that I had to say, noting that I was too smart for my own good, with all that God-talk in my head and in my mouth.

But since she is still my beloved sister in Christ, my fervent prayers continue for both this woman and her family; and so, even as I note this or that in aid of helping bringing peace to this troubled land that is mine; I tell you that, another Black man is now dead.

Take note that, Sharmoco Newbold is dead; having been wasted – some say- by a police man.

In time, we might all have some idea; some bit of information concerning why he had to die as he did when he bit the dust as he did, this Saturday past.

But in the meanwhile as we await the coming of that day when truth is revealed; take note that, having thought deeply about the matter on today’s agenda, I am prepared to argue that, this land that is ours is an infernal kind of place – an archipelagic necropolis; a place where Death reigns and lurks; triumphant with the results of carnage unleashed.

Having thought deeply about the matter on today’s agenda, I am prepared to argue that, this land that is ours is an infernal kind of place – an archipelagic necropolis; a place where Death lurks and for sure, our land has become –inch by bloody inch - a place where thugs in uniform routinely kill unarmed citizens.

Indeed, today’s exotic-erotic Bahamas is a hellish, messed up kind of place. It is a place where you can get killed for apparently no real reason.

It is a fact that, "The shooting death of 18-year-old Brenton Smith has raised questions as to whether the armed members of the Royal Bahamas Police Force have adequate firearms training to ensure they react properly to high-pressure situations or whether some are "trigger- happy" officers whose first instinct is to pull the trigger.

Now know that, "It was just before 8 pm on a warm summer's evening -- on the cusp of the country's 36th Independence anniversary -- when the 2008 graduate of St Augustine's College walked with a friend through a popular shortcut used by many in the Kemp Road area. The path led to the nearby City Market food store on Village Road.

"He was in a hurry to flag down a jitney before it got dark and warned his friend not to make him late for his younger sister's singing recital. "But he never made it there…"

As I now imagine things – even as Brenton tried to find his way to his sister’s recital, the death angels hovered about in the immediate vicinity of that food-store that had been robbed in that same time as Hector Brenton just happened to be passing by.

The rest of the story is simple enough – Brenton was laid low by police gun-fire.

Today, Brenton Hector Smith is still dead.

The police officer who killed him is alive and well and working as a police officer. And from all that I currently suspect, this officer is armed.

While I have no basis on which to pin a judgment or opinion to the effect that this man is dangerous; I hope that his path and mine never cross.

Or to be a tad more charitable, I hope to see him on the Judgment Day – and then only so that I can get an opportunity to get the real story as to how it came to be that Hector Brenton Smith was destroyed -as he was – where he was on that fateful night when a police officer was man enough to kill him. Even now, some of my fellow-Bahamians do verily believe that Hector Brenton Smith was killed in cold blood.

For my part, I just do not know a thing about this.

What I do know is that a Coroner’s Jury did last Thursday – on a Thursday just like this one – did say that it was unanimous in its conclusion that the police officer with the gun had acted in his own self-defense when he apprehended that his life might be at danger; thus that one blast that sent Hector Brenton Smith to thy kingdom come – on a one way ticket to Oblivion. And so, that is how it is done in today’s stinking Bahamas.

I am today so very sorry for my people.

And on the basis of all that I know and believe – based on my faith in a Risen Savior- I am sure that I will see this student of mine on that day when Gabriel gets set to blow his trumpet.

I am also certain that the man who killed him will bow and confess to God Almighty for what he did when he did what he did on that fateful night when he shot the shot that felled the boy who was trying to find his way home through what he thought was a short-cut from one dead end road to another crime-infested street.

Little did Brenton know that the route he took was that one that would take him – in a flash of fire and in the stench of his own shed-blood – to that place where the dead congregate.

And the preacher-man said some days later: dust to dust and ashes to ashes and another young man’s remains were returned to the earth.

The same kind of thing happened for Jermaine Mackey’s family when they had to bury what was left of him in the aftermath of his death by police gun-fire on St. James Road in the Eastern District of this infernal island.

And then, there was that now-notorious case of a young man who was known as Sharky, but whose real name was Deron Bethel – this case being the one where –as he sat in his car and as he tried to get away from what was clearly a bad scene unfolding – he was shot through the heart.

He bled to death.

And even now, his mother grieves for the man-child who emerged – head-first- from her womb. Today this woman is grandchild to her dead son’s child – my God-son –Deron Bethel, Jr.

And still, blessed are the peacemakers.

November 25th, 2010

The Bahama Journal

Bahamas Blog International