Caption: Dominic Kalipersad. Photo: Facebook
By Alicia Chamely
VETERAN journalist Dominic Kalipersad is tired of talking about the July 27, 1990, insurrection every year on its anniversary.
Kalipersad is tired of the stories of the civilians who fought for the country’s democracy and have never had their contributions honoured or their stories told.
His weariness and unwillingness to relive the attempted coup of 1990 is understandable. He has been talking about it for the last 35 years. Despite his advocacy, he has watched the stories of the civilians who carry the psychological battle scars of 1990 be left out of history.
On the afternoon of July 27, 1990, Kalipersad and the staff of Trinidad and Tobago Television (TTT) were held hostage by 72 members of the Jamaat al Muslimeen and their leader, Yasin Abu Bakr. The Muslimeen had tried to overthrow the National Alliance for Reconstruction (NAR) government led by prime minister Arthur NR Robinson.
Kalipersad was notoriously made to sit next to Abu Bakr on the 7 pm news and make the spine-tingling pronoucement, “Mr Bakr says that he is in charge.”
For six days, Kalipersad along with the staff of TTT, which included notable journalists Raoul Pantin and Jones P Madera, were tormented by Bakr’s men.
Kalipersad would do his best to negotiate the release of hostages, at one point refusing his own release, demanding others be let go first.
That was 35 years ago, and Kalipersad is tired of talking about it.
When AZP News reached out to Kalipersad for an interview, he politely declined and rather opted to send a statement that best encapsulated his thoughts on the 35th anniversary of the 1990 attempted coup.
Kalipersad said, “I’m tired talking about it. The people at Trinidad and Tobago Television (TTT) and at Radio Trinidad, who were held hostage —none of them politicians, only mere workers— were ignored after the attempted coup. No sympathy. No empathy. No recognition for their courage and bravery during the six life-threatening days of trauma. Not even psychological therapy. Not even for their families who were also traumatised.”
He spoke of his colleagues, Madera and Pantin, two men, who like Kalipersad, found themselves haunted by the events of 1990. Two men, whom the nation demanded stories from, but were never given proper support nor recognition for their roles in protection of their work colleague and the democracy of T&T.
Kalipersad said, “Thirty-five years later, Jones P Madeira, who put his life on the line to save our lives, died without any official recognition for his gallantry. Raoul Pantin died psychologically compromised. Some others never recovered.”
He continued, “If the authorities refuse to honour those civilians who stood up for democracy, only offer some annual insincere rhetoric, what’s the point of rehashing hurtful memories.”
Kalipersad is tired frustrated.
He said, “Praise the Regiment, the Police Service, and all the politicians who created an “amnesty” that helped the insurgents go free. They deserve it.”
Kalipersad expressed his hurt for those who are left out every year from receiving the recognition they deserve and the crushing reality that their stories would be left out of T&T’s history.
He said, “The history will be written without the workers’ stories. We’ll continue to move on with our lives and contribute to our beloved nation without their care.”
Kalipersad had no demands, no criticisms, just fatigue.
He ended the statement saying, “In the meantime, I’m tired of the annual ole talk.”
