Previous Khafra Kambon
Biography of Interviewew:
Winston Suite is an educator and civil engineer who co-founded the Universal Movement for Reconstruction of Black Identity (UMROBI),an organisation focused on highlighting the plight of the unemployed and disenfranchised in south Trinidad around 1970.
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I went on a government scholarship
to Mona, to do special physics–
Mona campus, yeah
–in 1965. What am I saying? 1962. I used to teach in St Stephen's College at that time,
where I taught for an academic year and a piece. And then I went to Jamaica. When I came back,
I was placed in QRC, Queens Royal College, to teach physics. Mainly A-level classes,
the scholarship classes, and the form– But they also put on a number of form one and
form other things, which was pleasant because some of these young students,
although I only spent two years in QRC, they remember me years back, some of them.
What year was that?
65 to 67, two years.
And how old were you?
I was born in 1940 so in 65, I would be 25 years old, 20 something. But I never wanted to teach
in Port of Spain, l I never wanted to live in Port of Spain. l I taught in St Stephen's and
I had a terrible passion, I wasn't interested in teaching really, but I was interested in the
development of the area I came from. And I said, if I'm going to have to teach because I’m on this
scholarship with a five-year contract for the government, then I want to go south. It's either
you're sending me to Presentation College or St Stephen's College, where I had worked. Country!
St Stephen's was the only high school that they had in the area. All the other high schools
were in San Fernando. Boys and girls. So I had to go to Pres, San Fernando. My brothers went
to Pres and my nephews went to Pres and my nieces and that– My sister went to school for three years
in Bishop's in town and I said I wanted to go back to the south. Mainly Princes Town if possible. And
they told me no– they told me listen man, everybody bawling to go to QRC and this is
the top school in town and you don't want to do it? I said no I want to go to Princes Town. They
must have thought I was mad. I tell them no, no, no I want to go to Princes Town, they need me in
Princes Town or San Fernando. So they agreed in the Ministry [of Education], after a prolonged
talk, that they will look at the question, they will look at my case as time passed
After the first year, I was so absorbed in the little Black children in Port of Spain,
in that school, a lot of Black children, African and Indian,
some from Laventille and all kinds of things. I got caught up in teaching. I tell you straight, I
didn't want to be a teacher, I didn't want to be a teacher, that's another question.
But I said, look, if I have to teach at all, put me in south. They say they will look at it.
After the first year, I was so absorbed, I didn't even apply to remind them but every now and again,
it would come back in my mind. And I raised the issue— I remember once I had exams coming up,
A-level exams in my class, the senior class in physics, trying to get a scholarship or not.
Something happened in the lab, some piece of equipment or something. We found out that we
didn't have some raw material that we needed for the exam, the practical exam. So I went to the
office to tell the principal, a fella name [Ralph] Laltoo, that, look, we have to have this material
by Monday for the exam. And he looked at me– We were good friends because I was hard-working
and he liked me and he was married to a woman from Princes Town who was just next door to me.
Next door to where I lived in Princes Town so we got along quite well. He had just come back from
Canada, he had spent a year or two years there, they had sent him in that school. So, eager with
this teaching that I didn't want to teach but I'd get caught in it, I can't get it out of my system–
So I tell him, he looked at me, he said, Suite, why do you have your shirt outside your pants?
I said– I laughed at him I thought we were good friends, he's the principal and I'm a
hard-working senior teacher. He said, put your shirt in your pants. I said, Mr. Laltoo lewwe
talk about that this evening or tomorrow or some other time. Let
us right now get the equipment for the class. He said, this is very important.
I said, what? He's persisting, he's not listening to me telling him about the equipment. I tell him,
I say, you know, I put in that thing that I didn't want to work in QRC, I want to go south
I'm going to leave the teaching if you pressing this point. It makes no sense me saying–
I'm going to go to the Ministry, I'm going to tell them. He took what they call—they have a phrase
for it– take front before front take you— he gone and report me to the Ministry,
which is just next door. How Suite is improperly dressed and he told me to fix myself and I would
not fix myself. So by about one o'clock in the afternoon, I got a letter from the Ministry
telling me that Mr Laltoo had reported me for insolence and persistence and badly dress and
all this kind of thing. If I do not obey his instructions, they will have to take action.
I said, what? Good. And I wrote a letter to the Ministry telling them– I told Laltoo the same
thing– I said yuh see right now I don't own— and I remember the phrase Arrogant lil young Black
fool from Princes Town– I remember the phrase, I told him I said listen I don’t have a pigeon
or a parrot on a stick and if you want to press me, I will leave and not come back.
I would stop teaching. I could go and stay in my mother gallery. Yes, I tell him you trying
to press me to put my shirt in my pants and you know the history of the shirt in my pants?
My brother who is now dead, he was about six years older than me, had gone to Mona
while I was there my last year. He had done languages, he had in the last year of the
Spanish degree – they used to go to Mexico to spend the vacation, the long vacs, where
they get immersed in it. Just like how the French people would go to France and spend a whole year.
So the French degree was a four-year degree but the Spanish degree was a three-year degree
because it was right here. Encourage them to go and spend the two summers. He had come back
about the year before. Bought about three shirts for me, they were called Guayabera.
These are the shirts that are short sleeve, they could be long sleeve but the pockets are outside,
both up here and down here. Right? And I remember he bought a white one, a pink one
and a blue one. He bought back these shirts for me. I was so keen. Nationalism in Mexico.
Why you telling me– we don't have a dress code. We wear all kinds of crazy things,
and put on all kinds of, feeling good. I wasn’t no radical you know. That's the next question.
So I decided look, Winston, you have to, you have to leave QRC. Everybody
looking at QRC as the greatest place to teach. What? Scholarship class,
this is the top, next to the Ministry. I didnt curse. I said I wanna go back home,
I wanna go back down south. And if alyuh don't send me? I am prepared to leave the job,
to resign and do nothing. I was really crazy in those days. They pushed me… So when the year
finished, that was my second year. By this time I was so absorbed, almost to the point
that I kind of wanted to stay in town because of the students. At least two of my students
ended up being professors in medicine in Mona. Some of them are specialists, all kinda thing.
I used to work hard and I didn't want to be a teacher but I worked hard. So they
agreed to give me a transfer. So I had spent two years in QRC and they sent me to Mod Sec
in San Fernando. They had just built this school, it was supposed to have two batches
of Common Entrance classes. One for that part of San Fernando and one for Penal so the school was
called the San Fernando and Penal school. Years after they built the school in Penal for them. A
number of years, it was carrying two sets of form one. So the first year, when I went down south,
the school was about three years old and I went down there and fell into the trap of teaching.
You know It was a passionate thing I'll tell you. I met a number of students who
went to Pres. And we decided that we want to make Mod Sec as it was called as good
as QRC, as San Fernando Pres. We all went to Pres or most of us and we decided we're going
to make Mod Sec as good. And that was about cricket, sports, football, academics. And we
started to work hard— in fact out of that by two year’s time we got a couple of students,
I know some of them names by heart, remained friends, retired now — A-level distinctions in
physics. I was teaching physics. And there was a woman named Brader Lynch from St. Madeleine.
She went into health and things like that. She did work with the medical faculty. She did her
PhD in teaching all kinda thing. But then she was doing chemistry, she had just come out of Mona,
out of St Augustine. So I would have been in my third year when I went to Mod Sec of the contract
and she might have been In her first year. And we all were worked up about this Mod Sec and making
it into some, this great school blah blah blah blah blah. Stay giving lessons in the evening for
nothing. Staying late, coming Saturday, all kinds of things. I got trapped in teaching.
How many of you were doing that?
All the staff. Young, young men, some of them dead. Leslie Sooklal is dead. One or two of them
migrated to Canada. But [Harold] Ramkissoon spent a year there. He went in to UWI after
and so we went. Worked hard. And sooner or later my brother who graduated was sent to
Mod Sec. So the two of us ended up in the same school. Had another friend of mine,
Rawle Aimey, sportsman national footballer, all of this, who also went to the Pres and
sort of thing. We really set our head down, we decided that we were going to work hard and make
this school a good school, a great school, scholarship winning, all this kind of thing.
And so I'm now in San Fernando, 65, 67. 65, 66, 66 67. 67, 68. I'm now in 68,
the first year in Mod Sec. Miss [Ruby] Thompson was the principal. 68, 69 and then 70. 70 is 1970.
So I was able to put in two and a half years in Mod Sec before I was thrown out of teaching. But
it was such a– It screwed up my head because I remember one day a friend of mine who had
graduated about a year or so after me. He did languages. So when I came San Fernando in my
third year of the contract, he was in his first year of contract and he was teaching in Mod Sec.
He said what we could do lift up these people? Abandoned and neglected blah blah blah blahblah
blah. He called me, he say Suite, I want to talk to you. He's younger than me, he graduated after.
He's in English, I'm in Physics and we stood up talking outside the corridor. And this is a very
important equation in my life because it is what caused me to move to the next step. And he started
telling me about the children we're teaching and some of them coming to school with buss up shoes,
all kinds of craziness we have going on in the school. Of poverty and how some of our students,
they leave there and have no work. Unemployed. I remember one particular boy from San Fernando. He
ended up winning a scholarship for A-levels. And he said boy what we could do, what we could do
other than just teaching and we try. Brader and them was giving lessons to students lunchtime,
in the evening, in chemistry. I was there teaching some of these students in the evening. Babwah
was staying there on Saturdays to come and play cricket because he wanted that team to beat QRC ,
amm Naparima where he taught and was a student. That kind of passion. We wanted to make a— I
dunno, maybe I was being influenced. [laughter] Seduced. So me and Wayne started to talk–
AA: This is Wayne Davis?
WS: Wayne Davis. He ended up a
vagrant in San Fernando you know. And died. Died a vagrant. Having been expelled from teaching,
all as a result of that. So we decided look what we could do? And Wayne said listen we
could organize— I think he was involved in Tapia. This kind of– [interruption]
I’m just making sure that this is— He was involved in Tapia?
I suspect he was a member of Tapia and he wanted to do something like that. The grassroots kind
of education. I tell him I'm not just having an education class for poor people children,
unemployed. I think but anyhow— And he organized by a fellow named Sonowa. Sonowa
father had a drugstore near the library, not too far from here. And Sonowa went to
Naps [Naparima College] just like Wayne Davis went to Naps. Sonowa stayed to mind
his father's drugstore but Wayne went on a scholarship to Mona about two years after me.
So we decided, he tell me that Sonowa have a place up Coffee Street, let us meet with some of the
unemployed youth in the area and see what we could do because he's not sure what we should do
or could do or whatever. I tell him alright. And I came down to this, I think I came with a friend
of mine from Princes Town and a cousin of mine to go and have talks with Wayne off the school campus
about what we could do as young Trinidadians for the unemployed youth in south Trinidad.
And we had, the first day we had a debate. Some of them wanted to put on plays,
you know pseudo culture kind of thing. That was Wayne's position,
he was in San Fernando Arts Council and he did an English degree so that's how he saw
it. I did physics and I wanted to intervene in the process of the poverty. In doing something. That
not teaching them simply to appreciate Shakespeare or [indecipherable] or to read some sophisticated
novel. That is not my— So we had a lot of debate and disagreement and so on.
And we decided, let us, let us— He knew a couple, he was from San Fernando, I was from Princes Town.
He will gather some of the fellows, unemployed youth from San Fernando. And we will start talk
and see what we could do. So I said alright, I came with my cousin and somebody else from
Princes Town and we went into this building that Sonowar had on Coffee Street. It was like an inn,
a sophisticated inn where people could sit down and drink. Educated people. But that was in the
night after seven o'clock of the place so that it was free for use by us, me and
Wayne and whatever group of whatever call them. Discards in the society. To see what we could do.
The debate had— We had a heated debate on the question of– I believed that we should try to
see what we could do to educate these people about their predicament. At the same time,
see what we could do to guide them in dealing with the unemployment in whatever way that
came up to make them instruments and agents of their own. So that important discussion,
talking about the national situation and we started to meet, we met about three
times. And one night we went in for the meeting, I coming from Princes Town and
supposed to be there seven o'clock. Eight o'clock, the door of the place was upstairs,
we had to go up– No Sonowar, no key and we downstairs. I say, what the hell is this? We don't
own a place. We eh paying rent. And this time our numbers have increased. About twenty young
men from San Fernando, about four of us from the Mod Sec, it was mainly Mod Sec teachers in there.
Somebody suggested that there was a fellow called Jessel Alexis had a rum shop on Cipero Street
and that he liked politics. And that, the person said they sure Jessel will give us his rum shop,
which is going to be empty most of the time, to keep our meetings. And we walked down Coffee
Street down Cipero Street into Jessel. I talked to Jessel, Jessel said is a big place, take it,
go ahead. He had two sons I knew of, one was in a fifth form around my time He went
to medicine in Howard [University] Then another older brother, son who was with
one of my brothers in class. So he would have been four or five years older than me.
So he was– His children, one was away studying and one in class in Presentation mainly. And he
was one of these activists, kind of interested in the national politics in San Fernando. Roy
Joseph and politicians of that era. And we had the whole meeting there.
Jessel said you could come any time, any time, any day. And I tell him thanks. We
suddenly no longer had to go and stand up and wait for Jessel, for Sonowar and this thing.
But at the same time, toying with two things. That while we try to educate
the people in south Trinidad, the young youth, many of them high school graduates
and some drop out from school. We have to get them to understand their own predicament. Why
are they unemployed? What could they do about it? If they have to approach the government,
what agencies they have to approach etc. And at the same time was the need to evaluate the size
of this problem which became staggering because every meeting we have— next week
the numbers grew larger and larger, young fellows from all over the housing schemes
in San Fernando, Marabella, Vistabella and the border of Mon Repos and all these–.
So we decided that what we need to do is to make San Fernando aware of the
magnitude of the problem of unemployed youth and the best way to do that was to
stage a march to put the young people who are unemployed on the street. To
march from Mon Repos Roundabout through the streets of San Fernando up on the
promenade. Where we would then allow people to speak to the gathering and anybody else.
We planned that and that was a early march we had planned. And we found it coincided when
NJAC [National Joint Action Committee] went in the church in town, it was the same day. We put
off our march because we felt– and I use the word ‘we’ because we discussed it– that we hadn't done
enough work and that not enough people would come. And that we do not know the reaction of
the people in San Fernando. We wanted to get the maximum number and we wanted to be able to– And
therefore the burden of addressing the members and whoever would turn on— The housing— What am
I saying? The San Fernando Promenade. Harris Promenade. Very famous in our life later on.
–had the responsibility– It was going to be me and Wayne and anybody else who wanted to come and go.
So we did that. This would be a Saturday when I'm not teaching and so we put off
the march because we felt that— So that is the same day NJAC had their business
done but we had no connection with NJAC. We were not involved with NJAC. We were
not involved in going UWI [University of the West Indies] campus, that whole thing. Our
business was south Trinidad and unemployed youth and what could be done for them.
So how long were you meeting as a group before you decided to
have the march? The march would have been– We were meeting, what month–?
February 26 1970 was the day that they went into the cathedral
1970. Good. We are talking about 69. About a year or so before that we had
been going on for about a little more than a year.
When did it formally become UMROBI [Universal Movement for Reconstruction of Black Identity]?
Along the way, I'll tell you about that because as I said, we wrestled with what is our focus and I
had read a little bit about Marcus Garvey. And I– how he named his organization the Universal
something. So I patterned the name, I take blame for it, I patterned the name of UMROBI, Universal
Movement for Reconstruction of Black Identity as a kind of mirror image of Garvey. Although we were
not saying, we are a Garvey movement but we would have been influenced by Garvey's original thing.
Then we staged this march in San Fernando. We went through the streets of San Fernando coming
down up on to the promenade. That was my first public speaking--
What day was that?
What’s that?
What day was that?
That was Saturday because we have to teach. My other colleagues have to teach.
So it didn't– It was originally supposed to be February 26th but it was postponed till when?
I think the week after, or two weeks after.
So that was your first public, major public speaking moment. How did it go?
We had an Impact on San Fernando. Because many people came to find out what
that is about, what alyuh–? By this time— I want to make another statement. We were not the first
in San Fernando to talk about unemployment. In fact, the first organization to do that
was an organization called Young Power. It was started by Michael Als, now deceased. Michael
was a brave fellow because he was way ahead of us. And what he did, he was working on
the unemployment in the oil belt. So he was catering for Point Fortin, Siparia and he led
a march of unemployed youth even before us. From Point Fortin to Port of Spain.
When did that march take place?
That march took place before all this thing with NJAC and even us. Michael,
after he organized that, went to England I don't know whether he was thinking of studying or what.
But he went to England and, I don't know what happened, and he came back to Trinidad and found
out that we were active. UMROBI was active and he made contact with me and started to
talk and he started to come to our meetings. Michael Als and one of his, his lieutenants,
a fellow called something Mascal. I do not know his— I look in all those— I don't have anybody
to tell me what was his first name. Just Mascal. He was living in the Roy Joseph scheme. He used
to have a– he a dougla fella, I remember vividly, he had long hair up to the shoulders. The only man
who could tell me what was his other name has since died himself. Another fellow who joined
our organization called Shelton. Shelton Williams. He died about three years ago
That's what I tell you, most of all, so many people of that era have died including NJAC. So
our focus was in fact, we were unaware of NJAC and their business. Because they were operating out of
UWI and they had some links with OWTU [Oilfield Workers Trade Union] and George Weekes and what
do you call the boss? Joe Young and his– So they formed NJAC, university students, OWTU and that.
In fact, as we were developing, every time we go and ask George and them to give
us room to hold a meeting, they gave us a cock and bull story. I say alright, we will find a
next place. So we had to be drifting around. I suppose they were more impressed by being
associated with Port of Spain university students. Who the hell is Suite and these fellows? That
continued for a long time. When we asked them to give us their hall in San Fernando for meetings,
they used to give us hell, they wouldn’t– That's another thing. Anyhow.
You were telling me about the day of the march where you had the first public speaking event
It was important because what happens is a lot of people were influenced because they saw that this
is not six people. We had people by this time, we had attracted people from Pleasantville,
that housing scheme area, all the housing schemes in San Fernando, including Marabella
and Vistabella. We had members joining and I remember every meeting we had, we used to have
meetings in the night, in one of the housing schemes that gradually people from-- Older people.
There were two Muslim boys I can't remember the name because they had an organization affiliated
with Black Muslims in America. But-- What do you call it again? Elijah Muhammad, that whole thing.
They were Black Muslims in those days, good. This is before Abu Bakr and all those Black Muslims
and but they didn't have an active organization. They had one or two members and therefore they
started to come to our meetings. They could get new ideas, they get more, some people to discuss
with and they understood that they were, they had fraternal ties with a wider attachment. I
remember those two young fellows. And we started to attract the unemployed youth. And I would,
a couple of us would go in the various housing schemes on weekends like Saturday and Sunday.
People would invite you to come and talk to the block, the scheme. And I would go and
we would talk about all and sundry things. Where I was learning while I was teaching
and we ended up going, meeting some people from deep south including some of them who were with
Michael Als before Michael organization was no longer functioning so they literally come to us.
We didn't have any formal membership form or officers. We didn't have that structure put--
And that was a serious price for us. We existed in isolation. We had no contact with NJAC,
I point out to that. We would go and spend Saturdays and or Sundays in Point Fortin,
where people invite you to come and talk. Or one of the housing schemes started to increase
your catchment. Princes Town where I came from. All of Marabella, Vistabella, that whole area up
to Claxton Bay and San Fernando. That was our focus. South Trinidad.
When the issue about Sir George Williams and that thing, this is when the NJAC became aware that
there was an organization in San Fernando called UMROBI. NJAC became aware of that. We didn't have
a very pleasant relationship because they felt that they were in the news and they were in the
papers. Who the hell is these fellas down there. Worst of all, George Weekes and them joined NJAC,
had almost nothing to do with us. We had to pay to use their hall to have a meeting
and this kind of thing but we continued. When Sir George Williams thing blew up further and
some of them were coming to Trinidad and [Eric] Williams say he go pay the money
to the Canadian people. They threw out students for what the students did do blah blah blah. So,
at this point NJAC increased its mobilization in the north. They would go to Tobago. But
what was interesting is that when they had their big meetings in the square,
some of our members even I myself would go to meetings. But I must jump backwards.
Before that, one of our meetings that we had in San Fernando that could start
sometime Mon Repos or high up in Coffee Street and then go straight on to the promenade where
we talked to a larger and larger gathering. And the meeting decided, I say meeting because some
of the young fellows decide, they come and tell me look man-- we up on the promenade,
that they feel that we should go down High Street and come back up High Street. I might
have been naive or foolish because our march had stopped on the promenade and we had had a big
meeting addressing people, not only the unemployed gathering. And I honestly didn't read the play, I
always admit that. Because it was unnecessary to go down the rest of the promenade, to go down to
the bottom of High Street, and to come up High Street which was night. No business places were
open. I misread the play. I always said so. I paid for it. That's not the important point.
I didn't want to do that. In fact, I’ll tell you something. When I reached the
top of Cipero Street, Wayne tells me he's not feeling well or some such thing so. That he
can't go down with the demonstration further down by Cipero across by Presentation up on
the promenade. Tell me he can't make it he's tired. Or some other cock and bull.
I said Wayne you're leaving me alone to be in charge of this demonstration going
down to close off on the promenade. He said, he said I can't make it,
I’m tired. He wasn't a big muscular fella, he had a slim frame. I assumed he was a—anyhow.
When we went on the promenade, we had a meeting. A number of us addressed the crowd and
then we agreed to disperse. Some of the fellows come and tell me, well listen,
they want to take the demonstration down to the hospital down the hill and up the
thing. At that point so they will disperse by the library corner. I didn't want to say no,
I said alright. When we reached the bottom of High Street, I was in the front of the demonstration,
technically leading the demonstration. We had some flags and a lot of people in the
demonstration. I remember hearing some loud noises. I couldn't understand what is that?
Some people said the police behind us at the bottom of High Street. But I said for what?
And then we realized yes there were police down there but as some of the fellows had
started to pelt bottle into the showcases of the business place at the bottom of High Street.
I said Winston, you are screwed. Can't find Wayne nowhere. Cuz I know Wayne tell meh he
can’t go and I said alright Wayne, alright. At that point, the demonstration scattered up High
Street. People running left, right, and center but generally going up. So I was in the front of
the demonstration so I continued and somebody tell me that it have police at the top of High Street
going to lock up people. They are out there. So, somebody tell me Suite,
don’t go up High Street. You have to branch off High Street to a side road. And I took
off before the top of High Street to one of the side streets where they have shacks. A lot
of shanty. Almost at the top of High Street. And the police were at the top of High Street locking
up people. On the bottom of High Street police locking up people. And demonstration disperse.
And I decided-- I remember a woman in one of the shanties tell me come inside here, come, come,
police locking up people. And I went in her shack and she asked me where you want to go, where you
going now? You can’t go out there. I said alright I will go Curepe because my brother was working in
WASA [Water and Sewage Authority]. Was an engineer in WASA and was living up the hill of Curepe and
she tell me look you hold on here I will get a taxi for you. And the woman left, went by the
taxi stand by Point-a-Pierre road there. She tell me when she get the taxi ready, full, one more,
she will come back for me. And I went and sit down in the woman house. In her shack. And she went and
when the taxi was almost full she sent back her son or grandson to tell me come it's safe now.
And I took myself up in the taxi stand opposite what used to be a gas station
and they dropped me in town. They dropped me in Curepe. Went by my brother and I stayed by
there. Next morning they-- it make Evening News the next day “Suite at Large”. They lock up A,
B and C. And charge all of us with malicious damage to showcases and taking part in a riot.
And that was an interesting exercise because it was the start of my own suspension as a teacher.
This is what appeared, “Top Black Power Men Held and More Hunted”.
[indicates a newspaper clipping] This is Wayne. This is [Winston] Leonard. He was with OWTU. They
were not involved. This was just-- I just showing you a picture of me then. And this is Wayne.
So you disappeared the day after the march.
Yeah. This is [shows newspaper clipping]. No, that is not the one.
That is not the one. This would have been in April 21st
So, there was this thing “Suite is at Large.”
Do you have a copy of that one?
I'm trying to—If I find it, I will show you.
So at that point in time UMROBI’s leadership was just you and Wayne Davis.
We were the main leaders. It had other people involved-- [indecipherable]
Who else?
Rawle Aimey and some other--
But what was the, can you give a rough estimate as to the number of your membership?
That's another interesting question. Because of
the very nature of the-- There wasn't a club with membership.
I see. People would just show up?
Yes, and therefore organizational structure-wise, we were not well-structured. It was mass
education. That was the focus. It was not forming a lodge. We had no
membership rules. We had no registration. It was free. People like me and Wayne and others
giving their service to educate Black people in the area. We had no structure in a sense.
So you believe that the guys who told you to carry the march down High Street--
I think he dead. I think he dead now.
You think they did that as a way to hide their activities--
They wanted to go and mash up-- They must have thought about breaking up some glass case.
You mean like they specifically had--
I work out up this after.
Yeah, of course. Do you think that it was just a simple,
like they just wanted to loot? Or was it that they targeted—
No, no looting took place, it was just--
Destruction of property?
Destruction of this. Because nobody noticing
them or the unemployed. And this is the unemployed strike back.
I see. But it wasn't like they targeted specific businesses. It seemed random.
No, they're coming up High Street and they mashing up people thing.
But the joke is--
So who was arrested? What was the joke?
Well, hear. I disappeared. I explained to you how I disappeared with the aid of one of these women.
Did you ever find out her name?
Never. I knew the people in that area. I thought I was doing--
So you took the escape artist route up to Curepe.
What's that?
You took an escape artist route up to Curepe. Hide in some woman's house and jump in a taxi.
From there, from the opposite, from the library
corner straight in a taxi to Curepe corner and from there I went up--
And then the next day you see “Suite at Large”.
Well when I reached my brother's house, he said boy if the police looking, they're going,
they'll come there. And I remember he carrying me on campus. I was a student long before at Mona
and I was no longer, I wasn’t a student here. And in talking, he said boy somebody said they
know Clifton de Couteau, who became a Minister. Also from Princes Town. In fact, he was a student
of mine when I was teaching at St. Stephen’s, he was a young—Your question was-- If you come here,
the police might come here. So somebody suggested boy why you don't go on campus and spend the night
by Clifton. Students’ campus, one of them. And somebody took me and carried
me on campus and I spent the night there. Next morning, I come back by my brother.
The problem at that point is-- I'm going to jump back to something--
But the – this is where things, let me take it slowly--Let me see if I can get it.
Basil Davis was another important moment in this. Because Basil Davis was shot in
the [Woodford] Square. By this time, I -- The government had sent me a letter next morning
put me on suspension. Me and Wayne for taking part in a riot and breaking glass case. Suite
break this glass case and Davis break that one. The police come and say-- I say what the
hell is this? They say yes, a police man say he saw you do this. I get away from a jail like that.
By the skin of your teeth!
I had a mission. I had a mission. Cause if I had come up High Street, anything could ha--.
They charged me for taking part in a riot. This is how I get put on suspension. The
glass case cost fifteen hundred dollars so I was charged for malicious damage of a glass case and
taking part in a riot. And this, these, those two cases were to drag on three, four years.
Let's see if you can get it chronology correct. So, these protests in Port of Spain by Student
Guild and members of the union was February 26th. You, UMROBI postponed
their protests until the following week, so that would have been the early part of March.
Yeah.
And so that's the protest where that riot took place. Then, the day after that protest,
you said that you went to your brother's house. The following day,
there was a publication saying, “Suite at Large”. So, early March, right?
What happened is that Basil Davis was killed in the Square.
That was in April, right? April? April 6th
Basil Davis-- I had been in town for a demonstration. By that time, I was suspended--
You were suspended already? Okay. So, you were staying at your brother's
house all that time? Sorry, you were staying up north on campus?
No, I had just spent the night there. I went by my brother's house. But,
the funeral of Basil Davis, there was a demonstration because he was being buried in
San Juan. So, I had left my brother's house and afterwards, going to San Juan for the funeral.
While it is, while there, somebody told me that you’re on the Evening News. So,
I didn’t go to the cemetery for the big 100,000 thing, I just turned back and get in a car and
I went back to Curepe. I went by my brother. So, I was charged before that because of the riot on
the High Street. And this was what suspended me. I was suspended from teaching based on those two
charges. Where a policeman named Brayton from Princes Town was the chief witness
giving evidence that he saw me. He was to be a chief witness in another charge later on.
I had come out and-- I told you I was in the Square, I saw the shooting [of Basil Davis]?
Can you tell me more about that?
Yes. A lot of people congregated in the Square and you had people running up
and down and moving up and down in the Square. And this fellow, Basil Davis,
and I remember he and another fellow who I didn't know, they were from Port of Spain was
running out of the Square towards the southwestern corner. That is the corner towards the cathedral--
And the library.
Right. And I was not too far from there. But I was in the Square and saw he and
the other boys all walking around in the Square. And then, I took no notice of him,
I didn't know him. They were waiting for, I suppose, Geddes [Granger] or somebody
else to give a speech. I had gone to something. There was a big meeting proposed in the town, I
went to the town. When I went back, I heard that the police
was looking for Suite. And I took off and disperse, had gotten away from there--
Tell me about the day at Woodford Square when you saw Basil Davis.
I wrote something about that. You see it become
vague in your mind. That was 1970, that is how many years?
It's also very traumatizing, isn't it?
Very. Because I saw the fellow shot. I was not far from here to
the wall [indicated distance]. And this policeman had a gun--
Less than five feet, yeah?
The wall--
Yeah
More than--
This wall, here?
No, no, the glass [indicates distance again]. He is running, the policeman behind him
and the policeman, I remember seeing this stocky policeman, aiming at him as he exited the back
gate. That gate was open. As he exited there, he turned left to go towards east and the policeman
is behind him and I don't know-- I think he turned and the policeman shot at him. But what I vividly
remember in my ears, I'm not familiar with guns, all I hear is something go bang, bang, bang. With
a highly, not explosive, boom, boom. A light thing. And the policeman had-- If I am lying,
I could fall right now-- The policeman had his gun, he had a little gun in his hand
like this [shows size using his hand] So part of his fingers would have been on the muzzle,
which is short and the rest of the gun here. And he shot at the fellow.
And this boy, who was, what you call kixsing around, I don't know what he did to provoke or
vex the policeman. But the policeman was running him down and he ran through the back gate and he
turned. The policeman shot him and you hear about two shots and he turned and fall. Dropped right
down the road. So I thought that he kixsing as I say, that is all part of the whole--That he must
be high on drugs or high on-- well, it wasn't so much drugs in those days-- high on alcohol.
And as he fell, some people went towards him, turned him over and when they turned him over,
what I was near enough to see a speck on his clothes. His jersey open up so and a
speck of blood, because it was not a hole, I am not familiar with guns, but to me,
it was a speck of blood. And as he dropped on the ground and turned over, I say he kixsing.
I didn't put two and two together and say, well, the police shoot him, but you hear the noise,
the police come up and tell people, get away from here. The fellow is on the
ground and some of the people say, but the man get shot! And the people coming
to help him because some realize that he is seriously wounded. In his chest. Left side.
And I had never seen this, I had never seen a man get shot before. I have not been involved, I am a
school teacher, I am not involved in this kind of thing. We didn't come out for that. And somebody
say, well, get a car and somebody say, call a car and they lift him up and put him in the
car to rush him to the hospital. Later on, we hear that Basil Davis died and that those
shots were shots in his heart. The first time I was so close to the shooting of a person.
I'm a school teacher. I'm a university graduate and this and that. I say boy, what the hell is
this? You understand this? Anyhow, that was the death of Basil Davis. It became a big issue.
He was young, right?
He was a young fella. He was in his 20s. Good I would have been—19-- 29. He would have been,
possibly, younger than me. And I say, he's one of the many young unemployed fellows from the Port
of Spain side, congregating in the square, and the police must be thing him and he running from
the police. And part of it is kixsing and part of it-- And the first time I ever saw somebody shot.
And killed.
And killed. So this became a big issue. And when I reached my-- I'm trying to get back things--
When I reached--It is this, I went to Curepe, not Curepe, San Juan to go to the funeral.
The funeral took place on April 9th, so just a couple days after he were shot
Yeah and somebody tell me the papers have “Suite at Large”
Did you know that the police was looking for you?
I suspected that.
Yeah, this is the State of Emergency [indicating newspaper clipping] I'm going to-- My sister had
gotten this in an old newspaper. I go try to see if I can find out before you go.
How far did you get? Because I know the funeral started--
They say, I coming from the east. I reached San Juan with the thing coming
and people say that the other side of the funeral was by the overpass.
They were coming up from Port of Spain to go up Saddle Road--
From San Juan
San Juan, yeah?
Yeah
So you didn't make it very far up?
I reached the junction.
The Croisee.
The Croisee. And I take off. Good? So that was that. I am now on suspension
You and Wayne Davis. Did you speak to Wayne Davis after the protest, the riot in Sando?
No, no, he--
He went home.
Yes
Right, and then you said--
In fact, I have said that Wayne was never on the promenade. I don't know if he changed his mind.
By the top of the Cipero Street, Wayne came to me and told me, listen, I don't think I can make
it, I'm tired. Just by this funeral agency on one side of the Cipero. I said to myself, Wayne,
you're going to leave me alone with these men to see about this thing, man. He tell me, boy, I'm
tired and so on I half believe him, I half didn’t. But time came when I made the point. To the best
of my memory, I remember standing up and seeing Wayne going across. It's about three streets,
right? Going back by where this funeral agency is there. Behind. And I said to myself, this
bitch, [[laughter] this man is going to leave me alone. Anyhow, frig that. Because I went
back with the demonstration I said, Winston you can’t duck out. If he want to duck out
that's his business. Well later on, this will come up because they charged Wayne for being
in that riot. And Wayne's father was a big man in charge of WASA at the time--
And there were police witnesses.
--and they couldn't save him from getting this charge or being suspended from teaching and
losing his job and becoming a vagrant. Going mad and becoming a vagrant in San Fernando. One day
somebody came, by the time I working up in UWI. Somebody called me and they say “Suite, when last
you see Wayne?” I said, quite some time, I don’t go to San Fernando. I think I'm now on staff in
the UWI. They tell me, Wayne is a vagrant in San Fernando, you know. I said, what do you
mean? They said, Wayne's sleeping on the road. You have to come down south to see Wayne sleeping on
the pavement in San Fernando. That's where Wayne reached. He paid the ultimate price because of the
suspension. What I did, I decided I was not going to sit down. I knew that they were not going to
reinstate me. So I decided, Winston, what are you going to do? You have to start planning.
When I was put on suspension, I didn't know what the hell I was going to do,
I was still thinking it out. Then, when the State of Emergency came,
I realized that you ent getting back in no teaching job. And when I was inside,
I wrote a letter to Ken Julien, if I could come and register to do a degree in engineering.
That's when you were detained? During the State of Emergency--
While I was detained.
You decided to become a student?
WS: Because I said I'm not going to sit down on my ass and let these people screw me. Because I'm
not getting no teaching job, I'm on suspension. In fact I was chosen, as some people does say. What
happened is, when they suspended me from teaching, I set a national record. I was on suspension from
April, from February, when this riot took place, 1970, until June of 1965. I was on suspension--
85? You're going backwards.
Huh?
You're going backwards.
How?
You said 1970.
1975.
75. Okay.
And I'm going to tell you why, because by that time I had done a bachelor's degree in engineering
and a PhD in engineering.
So what's the record? Longest suspension?
Check it. I was reinstated when the government decided to no longer charge,
carry on the charges against me. The main charges, the two charge on High Street, I won it.
Okay.
I fight my case myself.
I represent myself in court. And I'll tell you why, and my wife had nothing to do with that.
And you didn't study law.
--She was in law sometime after. So—
What--
Just now, let me give you this—See why I say it's good that you come
because next year I mightn’t be able to remember anything.
I’m sure you will be remembering for a very long time.
What I said is look, Winston, when they put, when Williams declared a State of Emergency,
they arrested a lot of us, I included. Put me on Nelson Island, I spent, I think 28
days of the first State of Emergency. And then Williams-- They moved me-- I missed the number,
I used to say 17 but some people tell me it's 12 of us who were charged with sedition. I
could call some of them, I tried to call [Clive] Nunez to get some of the names of the fellas. A
lot of them dead. You see what happened is a hundred people were detained on Nelson Island.
A hundred people?
A hundred. When I was in the National Trust, I tried to make up a list and
if you go on Nelson Island, you'll see a list of names. I did that when I was
now employed as the Chairman of the Board of the National Trust. That's why I say I would
like to see that place called [Uriah] Butler’s Island, because he spent more
time there than all of us. He was detained twice. Good. And you have to document this.
I’ll do my best.
He has to be recognized, he's one of our national heroes. I know you, I hope,
you have other things to do. But I taking your time. You're busy? You have to go anywhere else?
I'm here for as long as I need to be here.
Well good. I'm going to tell you all I remember.
Can you tell me what prompted you to go into Port of Spain for the march?
I went to the march because I’m on suspension by this time. A big, they're having this big
demonstration in Port of Spain. So I, I ent working so I said I'm going in town. I'm going to
see, hear what they have to say, what NJAC had to say. And what is the state of what going on. Good?
Remember at this point, I have two charges against me. Malicious damage to the tune of fifteen
hundred dollars and taking part in-- Malicious damage and taking part in a riot. Two charges.
Then Williams declares a State of Emergency on the 21st. I am in my mother's house. We had a
meeting in San Fernando. And I came home in my mother's house where I was living.
And we were ole talking, a couple of us on the pavement. Me and one of the fellows
that I know, who is dead now. And somebody else. We were there talking and I said boy
it's two o'clock, it's time to go and sleep. And I went inside in my bed in my mother house.
And then suddenly, she come in the back and tell me police outside and they come for you.
My mother in a state. In front of my mother's house, parked up, several police vehicles full
of police men and at the back of the house, in case I flee or attempt to flee, they had big long
guns. By this time now, so I'm going to find out this when I come outside. Because when they come,
they come to the front door knocking. A little old house, my mother, my father there. Police come,
they come. “The big man in San Fernando send us to bring you down.” For what? They tell me they
don't know, they just given instructions to go and collect me and bring me down and charge me. And
that was the truth, you know. The police men who come, they didn’t know what was going on.
They didn't know it was a State of Emergency?
No, they didn't know that. They found out after. But they were told to go and hold people. And I
was one of the first people in San Fernando to be held. When I hear, I told my mother, my mother
she said boy the police outside. I tell her don't worry yourself. Don't worry yourself,
whatever is to be will be. Take off—change my clothes and I went outside. When I reach out,
they tell me go in the backseat. Police men on one side and I in the center, and then policemen in
the front. Then I seeing police coming from all in the back of my house, loaded with big long guns.
In other words, I realise, these fellas surround the house, they had gone all down in the back,
in the bush, around the house, in case I had tried to run, they would shoot. I realise
that when I come outside and I seeing police all in the back of the house and the yard.
They carry me to San Fernando. In the charge room. The main charge thing, office in front.
And they tell me how the big man-- I'm trying to remember what the hell was his name-- send
them to bring me. When they bring me, they put me to sit down in the charge room. They tell me hold
on there and now, I say what am I here for? They tell me the boss will come just now. It
was four o'clock in the morning when they took me from my mother’s house. And I never saw a
senior policeman to tell me anything until about eight o'clock, nine o'clock. I am sitting down,
seeing people coming. They walking, then they bring George Weekes come and
they put George Weekes there and Winston Leonard come. Nuevo Diaz. Three fellows who was walking in
the union. Senior officers in the union. They put that-- They don't
seem to know what was going on. One of them start to suspect, boy is a State of Emergency.
I was the first person to be brought in from Princes Town. The others came in after and
somewhere around eight o'clock, nine o'clock, or something so. They
come and usher you in downstairs, into the Black Maria, you know the big van that they do thing,
inside, lock the door. And you inside. Nobody ent telling you anything,
explaining or telling. They don't have no responsibility. They say that they
get instructions from Port of Spain to go and collect the rest of you. All right, that was it.
I don't know, whether they will—in those days, the government could have shoot you.
They could have claimed to say you get shot in anything and-- When you reach Port of Spain,
they decided to head towards St James to the army. And when they reached the army gate,
I remember this vividly, that's why it's important that you-- Nobody waiting for you to go?
When I am, I reach Tetron. And I said nobody know the hell... All of we. Four of us,
five of us. Nuevo Diaz. George Weekes. Winston Leonard. In the back of the van. And they drive
in. They reached to go into the-- What do you call it? The base. Nobody know what happening.
I remember vividly looking out through the wire up, high up there and I saw a young man who I knew
in my youth. He came from Princes Town, we used to call him Balcatee. His name was Harold Stephens,
right. Years after I saw him in Sea Lots. He used to live there but we never got to meet to talk
about that. I saw him there and I said boy what is going on. He say boy, hell going on in the army,
the army revolt. I say alright. That’s all he know. And he is now on the outside of the gate
with some other military people. This is a friend who grow up with me, he about a year older than
me. He used to live in a house about from here to a lil further than that one [points] next
door. We grow up together. Balcatee. Sister name Ingrid or Evelyn, something so. I remember his
brother name Joseph. All ah we grow up on the same hill in Princes Town. Nobody
could tell you what happening. They took me in to town. When you reach
down on the base and you hear that they in thing here. So somebody in the gate vicinity tell them,
you better carry those fellas back in town because the army in upheaval.
This is the same day that Raffique Shah and [Rex] Lasalle--
They were inside the base with their own problems inside of there, which
I knew nothing about. I had never met Raffique Shah, I didn't know Raffique Shah. I had never
had any dealings with any of the fellas in the army. They carried us back in to Port of Spain,
in the main police station. You see the one that Abu Bakr and them had blow up
once? Carried us downstairs. They have big cells downstairs, and they put you in a cell,
I can't remember whether I was alone or what. What I remember vividly is that we could climb up and
peep outside at the highest level and realize that, what you are seeing is the road level,
so that your building in which you are, you are in the basement, below road level.
We stayed there for quite some time until it was almost dark and then they came back and they moved
us from there back into a van, back down in the base. And when we come out of the base,
this fella, [Jack] Kelshall, the one who, was he the one who had the [indecipherable]? It was
either him or his brother or his cousin, I can't remember who it was. But Kelshall,
one of them, was in charge of a set of Coast Guard people and they took us out, put us on a boat,
and carried us out to Nelson Island. Come out and you went. They had, what do you call it,
police? Coast Guard. Coast Guard and some police surrounding the building.
The building is still there if you go and get a, excuse me, a view of it. And they put us
inside the building. The building had no rooms. Subsequently, they went and they built cells, but
then it was one big open hall, and they locked the front door on us and that's it. So that now, this
is night of William's State of Emergency. By this time, you find out there is a State of Emergency.
But while we were downstairs in this basement, you're hearing people running up and down.
Police running up and down. Because some of them are frightened, they jump
in their car and they going because they're afraid of the army. And every now and again,
you hear some gun shoot off, because, and you are now eight feet below ground level,
kept in this darkness, in a literally at the mercy of whoever, whatever, on whatever charges.
I spent 25 or 28 days, one of those numbers there, on Nelson Island. By which time, they had more,
almost 100 people collected down there. Then we were taken into Port of Spain by
[indecipherable] into the Red House. Driving from the basement of the Red House, coming inside,
and you're come up the stairs, that was the high court. And we were read charges. That
you were charged with sedition. Somehow or the other, I think we knew that we
were going to court. They may have read the charges on Nelson Island for us. And
I remember writing a piece of prose, I wish I find it, I can't find it nowhere.
At that time, you wrote this thing?
Yes, you expect to die anytime. I wrote, it was in defense—[phone chimes] I'll
call the name just now. There is a French Jew who was charged with
sedition and he spent time on an island, on the island. [Captain Alfred] Dreyfus. I tell
you, I'm frightened [points at head]. I hope you taking all this down.
[laughter] You're doing a good job.
Eh?
You're doing a good job. Don’t worry about your memory, it will come.
I wrote that, because, to me-- I used to read a lot-- Dreyfus was charged because
the other non-Jewish officers were envious of his meteoric time in the French-- And they conspired
to fabricate a charge of treason against Dreyfus. It's a famous, books have been written on it. And
films have been made on it. And the case has been about, you know-- because Dreyfus, somebody,
one of the famous French philosophers organized a mobilization of people in France, in Paris.
And forced them after a couple of years to open the case of Dreyfus. And Dreyfus was exonerated.
So you felt this was similar to your situation?
Because some people had fabricated a charge against him. Because I’m saying, what have I done?
But sedition is supposed to be proven, isn't it?
Well, girl, all of those things.
So about 100 people would have been charged for that?
No, they were charged with lesser things. About 12 or 16
of us were charged with sedition. And that charge would be vacated,
six and some years after. The government one day, by this time I finish the masters,
the bachelor’s degree. I had almost finished the experimental work and the write-up
of the first draft for my PhD. And I received a letter while I am finishing my write-up.
It was telling me that the government was no longer intending to pursue the matter of
sedition against me. And therefore, I had to report to the Ministry of Education to
be reinstated in my teaching job. So I was on suspension with half pay, that's a next
issue I’ll raise today. Wonderful story. I was charged with sedition with twelve other people.
On the 23rd of January, February, I was put on suspension until- that is 1970, 1976, June!
I received a letter. By which time, I had done a bachelor's degree, I got a first-class. I did,
I got a scholarship to do my PhD, I get vex then, so I decided-- Just the same week when
I got vex with them, I was on a research-- What do you call it again? A fellowship, scholarship,
government, university scholarship for coming first in your class. That's another story.
There were people who were trying to stop me from getting a job. And
I said, really, if that is the case, if I come first in my class,
and alyuh doh want to give me a job, and I see you hiring other people the years
before. Hiring people who ent do as good, I think, I said, no, I got mad vex and I said,
it's a good thing I had been working pell mell. I said, decided on my own, I was not-- I finished--
I did the master's, the bachelor's degree but it cost me four years because after
I finished the first year, and going to second year in November, the government
extended the State of Emergency, and locked me up the second time. So,
I was suspended in all-- First, we spent from April to November
April to November. The first State of Emergency
The first State of Emergency. Then the second State of Emergency,
it was about nine months. So in all, it was about 15 to 16 months in prison.
In the prison.
The second time-- therefore I lost a year. I end up doing the degree in four
years, that I should have done in three years. And while I was in there, I said, I'm not going
to waste my time at all. And I decided that I will set my own pace. I will finish my PhD. This is
not arrogance. This is-- I was screwed, and I had to catch up. So I decided I will not spend three
years, I told my potential supervisor, he told me to come back and do a master's. I said, if I
come back and do a master's, maximum two years. I will finish this in two years.
All I want is your support, and to make sure that they correct it on time, and two years.
If it's a PhD, three years. I'm not staying any-- I have lost too many years. Good? So,
I told you, the government decided after six years and something,
six years and a half, that they will no longer pursue that case. In the meantime,
I had defended myself on the two charges in San Fernando and had them thrown out.
I appeared on my own defence. So, it took me about three years for the case to come up, and every
day I had to take time off from my lectures and to go down to San Fernando. I was mad vex. And
there's no stopping me. When you're mad vex, you
do all kinds of things, you know. I was mad vex. I was mad vex for years.
If you weren’t suspended-- I would be mad vex too.
I finished my PhD, experimental work, in a year and a half.
Really?
And when they told me that in June, I had almost written up the first draft. And I said to myself,
I said, Winston, these people testing me. And I go in the Ministry, and I remember the fellow
who I had to meet. I tell him, I say, why are you all sending me Point Fortin as a relief teacher?
You're all trying to get me to resign. And he smiled and smiled and said, is that possible?
He said that?
I said, anything possible. And I said, never forget it, I decided I will go-- Conveniently,
I got annoyed with the university because they didn't want to appoint me on a job.
Somebody make me apply, and when the time comes, they had they meeting,
and they said, well, no Suite don't have enough experience. So they're not giving me-- Yeah,
I don't have enough experience. And they did not want to—A certain fella in the faculty,
senior in the department didn’t want me. I wasn't the right kind of person
And I was to show them that I'm more than the right kind of person. So,
I resigned from the teaching fellow, what do you call, teaching assistant,
instantly that evening. The same evening, I decided to resign, I get a letter telling me,
report to the Ministry. I said, so I resigned from the UWI, and I said,
I do, I finished all work. My first reaction was emotional, was to burn, I'll tell you the truth,
was to burn my thesis. I had all the experimental work written up in two years.
I said, this stupid thing tries to drive me—all the years I spend doing that, my bachelors,
my PhD finished, almost. What are they going to say, that I'm a mad, that I’m incompetent, or what
it is. But the forces were great. The forces were great that were allayed against me. So,
they sent me to Point Fortin, as a relief teacher. I did it for about two
weeks. Leave Tunapuna where I was living to reach San Fernando, racing hard, and one day,
I'll tell you the truth, this is undocumented, one day I overtook a taxi driver, round a corner,
and as I overtook the driver, something came to me, Winston what the ass you trying to do?
You're going to get killed. Possibly that's what they wanted to do, by sending you down Point. So,
you know what happened? End of June, I resigned. So, I resigned from teaching, and I pack up. I
changed my mind, I said, alright, I won't burn the thesis. I almost finished it.
[laughter] Good!
Because my aim was three years. I had it done, inside and out. But the forces allayed against
me. They take long to correct it. So, it ended up three and a half years, before I graduated.
I said, well, the forces that are against you, are not equal to the forces that are for you.
I left teaching, the longest person on suspension, six years and a half, or something like that.
And then, they threw up their hand, and they're no longer charging sedition against
me. I won the cases in San Fernando. I had a
PhD, I had a master's degree. I said, well, what the hell are you doing? My brother told me,
he had an engineering company, he said, well, come and work. I didn't want to work--
I went and worked for him for six years, as a contractor.
After that time, I was tired of that, and I left. And, at that time, they called me in the faculty.
If I'll change my mind and come and work. I said, yes and, I went back to the university after six
years And, I have never left. Because, when I left, I was kept on for about three years,
part-time. And then, Julien called me to join the staff at UTT [University of Trinidad and
Tobago]. I stayed there for about 15 years, or 18 years, or something, helping them do
their work. I'm still a professor emeritus in UWI. They appointed me a professor emeritus.
So, I say the forces-- For some reason,
they wanted to teach me a lesson or just set me on a path of wanting-- But, I
didn't want to be a teacher. But, so here am I, being a perpetual student.
And, a reluctant teacher.
No, I'm not a reluctant teacher.
Not anymore?
No. My students, in a way, make me feel that I have done wonders. I never wanted to be a teacher.
But, when students meet me in the airport, or they meet me, I just came back from the UK and,
they come and look for me. And, carry on this kind of thing to make me feel good that I help them,
I said, well, boy, possibly you didn't want to be a teacher, but--
You were meant to be a teacher.
--But, you had to be a teacher. That is not your choice. I resisted the idea of being a teacher.
I thought that that was not what I wanted.
So, what did you think you wanted to do?
Medicine. But, that is another story. That you
might have to save-- Ask me what you want to ask me now.
So, the two charges during the State of Emergency were both sedition charges?
The two charges, no, first I told you the two charges before the State of Emergency were--
Yeah, those two were--
It was based on the High Street thing,
right? Malicious damage of breaking a glass case and taking part in a riot.
Yeah
Those were the two charges.
Right. And then, for State of Emergency, you were charged with sedition both times?
But, there was only one time. You were charged with sedition and they just keep--
And they extended—Right, okay.
I wasn't studying them. So, at the end of it, I said-- some people say you're blessed,
others say you've had a function, a role, something to play. And that's,
that is why you were protected. You are protected. I told you my age?
Yeah.
I tell myself, I am lucky. There are plenty of people who grow up with me, dead.
There are plenty of people who are detained with me, dead. So I say, well,
boy, possibly somebody watching over you and you have a purpose. It's arrogance, eh? Sounds like
arrogance. But I can’t explain it. I mean, when the struggle going on, you feel bitter and when
it finishes, you tell yourself, it could have gone on--. You know, Wayne became mad.
But he wasn't--Was he also arrested during the State of Emergency?
Yes. Well, he was kept on Nelson Island. When he came out, he was already shaking from the impact
of the thing. And then, after that, Wayne became mad. Lost. Became insane on that, whatever you
call it. So I say, well, boy, you could have been like that. There are a lot of people who,
when they went into their lock up, they just give up. Some of them didn’t know what to do.
Some migrate. One or two of them who migrate were able to finish—[Russel] Andalcio was able to do
a degree somewhere in Canada. So that all have not failed. Some of them were able to establish—
There's a fellow, a Jamaican fellow, [Carl] Blackwood. He was, detained with us and
charged us with sedition. He ended up with a, going to France and England, I think. The last
time I heard about him is that he was in Canada. He did a PhD in electrical engineering. He was
doing electrical engineering, bachelor's degree here. He ended up doing a PhD. So he did fairly
well after. He got married to an Indian girl, her father had an engineering company here. So,
the story is about that.
What other areas are you interested in? As I told you, I went back in the UWI, I became an
academic. I had my struggles with them inside of me. They found that I want to go too fast.
What, what became of UMROBI?
That's a nice question. When I came out of prison, the first time, we assembled, reassembled.
Decimated. And a lot of people frightened and all kind of things. Some were in prison,
someone in detention, some afraid that-- the police threaten them and all kinds of things
like that. It was an elaborate program to destroy any kind of organizational thing. All
the organizations in general, they suffer from all different kinds of problems. We had the harassment
of the police and young people feel afraid and then the government started the programs here
and there. And they will give out something here to distract the young people. It was difficult.
So what we did, we joined, there was a No Vote campaign. We got involved
with [James] Millette and their organization and a few other organizations and we organized the No
Vote campaign. That was when I came out. So I spent my time studying academic work and doing
political work. That was all I stopped reading anything, never go to-- stop going to the cinema,
stopped doing this, stopped doing all that. I devoted my life to two things, the organization
and getting a good degree. And then, that was then, the second State of Emergency, locked up
again. And we came outside and reorganized with great difficulty and after somewhere around--
I'm trying to remember the exact time-- this is about 1976.
We had joined-- Raffique Shah joined with [Basdeo] Panday.
Panday and they had the-- what do you call the organization?
I'll call it-- this is Panday and Shah, Joe Young. I'll call it-- They had an organization
and that survived and we used to, some of our members-- we had a long debate what we should
do and some of them decided they want to get involved in that and a couple of them went
into that. And we kept surviving, meeting from time to time. Diminished. Depleted
number and impact. Then we started to face reality in 1976. ULF [United Labour Front]. Some
of our members tried to be in ULF and be in our organization.
And the strain became too great for people. We were all six years older, who had wife and
children. And the question of jobs, difficulty in getting jobs. You can't get jobs with profile.
We engaging in
a serious analysis, a serious analysis as to what is demanded
from the members by the objective situation in politics and decided
one day that--you end up with the shell of an organization. NJAC went through the
same kind of thing. We decided we would close down shop. It was a sad bitter day and we did
that for a number of years, members shut down but kept active. Some members went in
the trade union movement, others retreat and then go away. My own personal case,
I decided that there are other ways to contribute to this.
I took up the issue of writing, I hope you would be interested in some of this,
I took up the issue of reparations. I have written possible a dozen papers. Some of them published,
some of them not published. About what reparation means, what do we expect of our so-called national
leaders. But first thing, I broke up the whole historical period into looking at the
issue of the African man in the Caribbean, as a slave, from the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade.
So we have had this struggle for ownership, and a struggle for economic power going on for a very
long time. I think that's reflected back in this 1970 revolution. Even though you weren't
part of the NJAC, the whole north movement officially, you know.
The way we were carrying on, our main focus was unemployment. But it,
because of its nature and the membership, we started to discuss the question of the
African in Trinidad. And the question of what the government responsibility is. Because I was
telling you about that. First you have the period during slavery. At the end of the emancipation,
there was never attempted to distribute land or to compensate the Africans.
As a matter of fact, the plantation owners were the ones being compensated.
Good. So that is first. Then we go from the period of 1834, 1838, to 1946. When
the local government is kicking out the earlier fellows who tried to fight the guns on them after.
And in 1956 with the PNM, and then 1962. In 1962, the discussion with the British never
included a reparation for the Africans. That's a debt that our government took over when they
became independent. Took over that debt from the British government up until now.
Wealth, generation wealth, is a thing that never matured in our system. So my father,
when we would go to high school, we were living in a rented house.
Renting is the evidence of the fact you never had generational wealth. So that's a fact. And,
our government, Williams with all his progressive thing,
never took up the issue with the British about land distribution or reparation for the Africans.
And that led to this economic imbalance?
Ah, yes. Then we find now, so they lock up people thinking that they would quell the thing but it
continues. Then we look at 1976. We are now a republic. We have a second constitution but the
constitution does not deal with the backlog of the debt. Neither does it deal with human
rights and fundamental rights of the Africans. Or the cumulative debt to the First Peoples.
Good? They even carry out some brutality against the East Indians too, you know.
But I'm saying this is the colonial debt. And when the government, Williams and them take over,
they were supposed to, they should have dealt with that problem. They chose not to do it. Why is it
that what we have is a generation of only death? Young men dying every day, fighting each other,
killing each other. That's the effect. The failure to deal with the reparation question.
Mona campus, yeah
–in 1965. What am I saying? 1962. I used to teach in St Stephen's College at that time,
where I taught for an academic year and a piece. And then I went to Jamaica. When I came back,
I was placed in QRC, Queens Royal College, to teach physics. Mainly A-level classes,
the scholarship classes, and the form– But they also put on a number of form one and
form other things, which was pleasant because some of these young students,
although I only spent two years in QRC, they remember me years back, some of them.
What year was that?
65 to 67, two years.
And how old were you?
I was born in 1940 so in 65, I would be 25 years old, 20 something. But I never wanted to teach
in Port of Spain, l I never wanted to live in Port of Spain. l I taught in St Stephen's and
I had a terrible passion, I wasn't interested in teaching really, but I was interested in the
development of the area I came from. And I said, if I'm going to have to teach because I’m on this
scholarship with a five-year contract for the government, then I want to go south. It's either
you're sending me to Presentation College or St Stephen's College, where I had worked. Country!
St Stephen's was the only high school that they had in the area. All the other high schools
were in San Fernando. Boys and girls. So I had to go to Pres, San Fernando. My brothers went
to Pres and my nephews went to Pres and my nieces and that– My sister went to school for three years
in Bishop's in town and I said I wanted to go back to the south. Mainly Princes Town if possible. And
they told me no– they told me listen man, everybody bawling to go to QRC and this is
the top school in town and you don't want to do it? I said no I want to go to Princes Town. They
must have thought I was mad. I tell them no, no, no I want to go to Princes Town, they need me in
Princes Town or San Fernando. So they agreed in the Ministry [of Education], after a prolonged
talk, that they will look at the question, they will look at my case as time passed
After the first year, I was so absorbed in the little Black children in Port of Spain,
in that school, a lot of Black children, African and Indian,
some from Laventille and all kinds of things. I got caught up in teaching. I tell you straight, I
didn't want to be a teacher, I didn't want to be a teacher, that's another question.
But I said, look, if I have to teach at all, put me in south. They say they will look at it.
After the first year, I was so absorbed, I didn't even apply to remind them but every now and again,
it would come back in my mind. And I raised the issue— I remember once I had exams coming up,
A-level exams in my class, the senior class in physics, trying to get a scholarship or not.
Something happened in the lab, some piece of equipment or something. We found out that we
didn't have some raw material that we needed for the exam, the practical exam. So I went to the
office to tell the principal, a fella name [Ralph] Laltoo, that, look, we have to have this material
by Monday for the exam. And he looked at me– We were good friends because I was hard-working
and he liked me and he was married to a woman from Princes Town who was just next door to me.
Next door to where I lived in Princes Town so we got along quite well. He had just come back from
Canada, he had spent a year or two years there, they had sent him in that school. So, eager with
this teaching that I didn't want to teach but I'd get caught in it, I can't get it out of my system–
So I tell him, he looked at me, he said, Suite, why do you have your shirt outside your pants?
I said– I laughed at him I thought we were good friends, he's the principal and I'm a
hard-working senior teacher. He said, put your shirt in your pants. I said, Mr. Laltoo lewwe
talk about that this evening or tomorrow or some other time. Let
us right now get the equipment for the class. He said, this is very important.
I said, what? He's persisting, he's not listening to me telling him about the equipment. I tell him,
I say, you know, I put in that thing that I didn't want to work in QRC, I want to go south
I'm going to leave the teaching if you pressing this point. It makes no sense me saying–
I'm going to go to the Ministry, I'm going to tell them. He took what they call—they have a phrase
for it– take front before front take you— he gone and report me to the Ministry,
which is just next door. How Suite is improperly dressed and he told me to fix myself and I would
not fix myself. So by about one o'clock in the afternoon, I got a letter from the Ministry
telling me that Mr Laltoo had reported me for insolence and persistence and badly dress and
all this kind of thing. If I do not obey his instructions, they will have to take action.
I said, what? Good. And I wrote a letter to the Ministry telling them– I told Laltoo the same
thing– I said yuh see right now I don't own— and I remember the phrase Arrogant lil young Black
fool from Princes Town– I remember the phrase, I told him I said listen I don’t have a pigeon
or a parrot on a stick and if you want to press me, I will leave and not come back.
I would stop teaching. I could go and stay in my mother gallery. Yes, I tell him you trying
to press me to put my shirt in my pants and you know the history of the shirt in my pants?
My brother who is now dead, he was about six years older than me, had gone to Mona
while I was there my last year. He had done languages, he had in the last year of the
Spanish degree – they used to go to Mexico to spend the vacation, the long vacs, where
they get immersed in it. Just like how the French people would go to France and spend a whole year.
So the French degree was a four-year degree but the Spanish degree was a three-year degree
because it was right here. Encourage them to go and spend the two summers. He had come back
about the year before. Bought about three shirts for me, they were called Guayabera.
These are the shirts that are short sleeve, they could be long sleeve but the pockets are outside,
both up here and down here. Right? And I remember he bought a white one, a pink one
and a blue one. He bought back these shirts for me. I was so keen. Nationalism in Mexico.
Why you telling me– we don't have a dress code. We wear all kinds of crazy things,
and put on all kinds of, feeling good. I wasn’t no radical you know. That's the next question.
So I decided look, Winston, you have to, you have to leave QRC. Everybody
looking at QRC as the greatest place to teach. What? Scholarship class,
this is the top, next to the Ministry. I didnt curse. I said I wanna go back home,
I wanna go back down south. And if alyuh don't send me? I am prepared to leave the job,
to resign and do nothing. I was really crazy in those days. They pushed me… So when the year
finished, that was my second year. By this time I was so absorbed, almost to the point
that I kind of wanted to stay in town because of the students. At least two of my students
ended up being professors in medicine in Mona. Some of them are specialists, all kinda thing.
I used to work hard and I didn't want to be a teacher but I worked hard. So they
agreed to give me a transfer. So I had spent two years in QRC and they sent me to Mod Sec
in San Fernando. They had just built this school, it was supposed to have two batches
of Common Entrance classes. One for that part of San Fernando and one for Penal so the school was
called the San Fernando and Penal school. Years after they built the school in Penal for them. A
number of years, it was carrying two sets of form one. So the first year, when I went down south,
the school was about three years old and I went down there and fell into the trap of teaching.
You know It was a passionate thing I'll tell you. I met a number of students who
went to Pres. And we decided that we want to make Mod Sec as it was called as good
as QRC, as San Fernando Pres. We all went to Pres or most of us and we decided we're going
to make Mod Sec as good. And that was about cricket, sports, football, academics. And we
started to work hard— in fact out of that by two year’s time we got a couple of students,
I know some of them names by heart, remained friends, retired now — A-level distinctions in
physics. I was teaching physics. And there was a woman named Brader Lynch from St. Madeleine.
She went into health and things like that. She did work with the medical faculty. She did her
PhD in teaching all kinda thing. But then she was doing chemistry, she had just come out of Mona,
out of St Augustine. So I would have been in my third year when I went to Mod Sec of the contract
and she might have been In her first year. And we all were worked up about this Mod Sec and making
it into some, this great school blah blah blah blah blah. Stay giving lessons in the evening for
nothing. Staying late, coming Saturday, all kinds of things. I got trapped in teaching.
How many of you were doing that?
All the staff. Young, young men, some of them dead. Leslie Sooklal is dead. One or two of them
migrated to Canada. But [Harold] Ramkissoon spent a year there. He went in to UWI after
and so we went. Worked hard. And sooner or later my brother who graduated was sent to
Mod Sec. So the two of us ended up in the same school. Had another friend of mine,
Rawle Aimey, sportsman national footballer, all of this, who also went to the Pres and
sort of thing. We really set our head down, we decided that we were going to work hard and make
this school a good school, a great school, scholarship winning, all this kind of thing.
And so I'm now in San Fernando, 65, 67. 65, 66, 66 67. 67, 68. I'm now in 68,
the first year in Mod Sec. Miss [Ruby] Thompson was the principal. 68, 69 and then 70. 70 is 1970.
So I was able to put in two and a half years in Mod Sec before I was thrown out of teaching. But
it was such a– It screwed up my head because I remember one day a friend of mine who had
graduated about a year or so after me. He did languages. So when I came San Fernando in my
third year of the contract, he was in his first year of contract and he was teaching in Mod Sec.
He said what we could do lift up these people? Abandoned and neglected blah blah blah blahblah
blah. He called me, he say Suite, I want to talk to you. He's younger than me, he graduated after.
He's in English, I'm in Physics and we stood up talking outside the corridor. And this is a very
important equation in my life because it is what caused me to move to the next step. And he started
telling me about the children we're teaching and some of them coming to school with buss up shoes,
all kinds of craziness we have going on in the school. Of poverty and how some of our students,
they leave there and have no work. Unemployed. I remember one particular boy from San Fernando. He
ended up winning a scholarship for A-levels. And he said boy what we could do, what we could do
other than just teaching and we try. Brader and them was giving lessons to students lunchtime,
in the evening, in chemistry. I was there teaching some of these students in the evening. Babwah
was staying there on Saturdays to come and play cricket because he wanted that team to beat QRC ,
amm Naparima where he taught and was a student. That kind of passion. We wanted to make a— I
dunno, maybe I was being influenced. [laughter] Seduced. So me and Wayne started to talk–
AA: This is Wayne Davis?
WS: Wayne Davis. He ended up a
vagrant in San Fernando you know. And died. Died a vagrant. Having been expelled from teaching,
all as a result of that. So we decided look what we could do? And Wayne said listen we
could organize— I think he was involved in Tapia. This kind of– [interruption]
I’m just making sure that this is— He was involved in Tapia?
I suspect he was a member of Tapia and he wanted to do something like that. The grassroots kind
of education. I tell him I'm not just having an education class for poor people children,
unemployed. I think but anyhow— And he organized by a fellow named Sonowa. Sonowa
father had a drugstore near the library, not too far from here. And Sonowa went to
Naps [Naparima College] just like Wayne Davis went to Naps. Sonowa stayed to mind
his father's drugstore but Wayne went on a scholarship to Mona about two years after me.
So we decided, he tell me that Sonowa have a place up Coffee Street, let us meet with some of the
unemployed youth in the area and see what we could do because he's not sure what we should do
or could do or whatever. I tell him alright. And I came down to this, I think I came with a friend
of mine from Princes Town and a cousin of mine to go and have talks with Wayne off the school campus
about what we could do as young Trinidadians for the unemployed youth in south Trinidad.
And we had, the first day we had a debate. Some of them wanted to put on plays,
you know pseudo culture kind of thing. That was Wayne's position,
he was in San Fernando Arts Council and he did an English degree so that's how he saw
it. I did physics and I wanted to intervene in the process of the poverty. In doing something. That
not teaching them simply to appreciate Shakespeare or [indecipherable] or to read some sophisticated
novel. That is not my— So we had a lot of debate and disagreement and so on.
And we decided, let us, let us— He knew a couple, he was from San Fernando, I was from Princes Town.
He will gather some of the fellows, unemployed youth from San Fernando. And we will start talk
and see what we could do. So I said alright, I came with my cousin and somebody else from
Princes Town and we went into this building that Sonowar had on Coffee Street. It was like an inn,
a sophisticated inn where people could sit down and drink. Educated people. But that was in the
night after seven o'clock of the place so that it was free for use by us, me and
Wayne and whatever group of whatever call them. Discards in the society. To see what we could do.
The debate had— We had a heated debate on the question of– I believed that we should try to
see what we could do to educate these people about their predicament. At the same time,
see what we could do to guide them in dealing with the unemployment in whatever way that
came up to make them instruments and agents of their own. So that important discussion,
talking about the national situation and we started to meet, we met about three
times. And one night we went in for the meeting, I coming from Princes Town and
supposed to be there seven o'clock. Eight o'clock, the door of the place was upstairs,
we had to go up– No Sonowar, no key and we downstairs. I say, what the hell is this? We don't
own a place. We eh paying rent. And this time our numbers have increased. About twenty young
men from San Fernando, about four of us from the Mod Sec, it was mainly Mod Sec teachers in there.
Somebody suggested that there was a fellow called Jessel Alexis had a rum shop on Cipero Street
and that he liked politics. And that, the person said they sure Jessel will give us his rum shop,
which is going to be empty most of the time, to keep our meetings. And we walked down Coffee
Street down Cipero Street into Jessel. I talked to Jessel, Jessel said is a big place, take it,
go ahead. He had two sons I knew of, one was in a fifth form around my time He went
to medicine in Howard [University] Then another older brother, son who was with
one of my brothers in class. So he would have been four or five years older than me.
So he was– His children, one was away studying and one in class in Presentation mainly. And he
was one of these activists, kind of interested in the national politics in San Fernando. Roy
Joseph and politicians of that era. And we had the whole meeting there.
Jessel said you could come any time, any time, any day. And I tell him thanks. We
suddenly no longer had to go and stand up and wait for Jessel, for Sonowar and this thing.
But at the same time, toying with two things. That while we try to educate
the people in south Trinidad, the young youth, many of them high school graduates
and some drop out from school. We have to get them to understand their own predicament. Why
are they unemployed? What could they do about it? If they have to approach the government,
what agencies they have to approach etc. And at the same time was the need to evaluate the size
of this problem which became staggering because every meeting we have— next week
the numbers grew larger and larger, young fellows from all over the housing schemes
in San Fernando, Marabella, Vistabella and the border of Mon Repos and all these–.
So we decided that what we need to do is to make San Fernando aware of the
magnitude of the problem of unemployed youth and the best way to do that was to
stage a march to put the young people who are unemployed on the street. To
march from Mon Repos Roundabout through the streets of San Fernando up on the
promenade. Where we would then allow people to speak to the gathering and anybody else.
We planned that and that was a early march we had planned. And we found it coincided when
NJAC [National Joint Action Committee] went in the church in town, it was the same day. We put
off our march because we felt– and I use the word ‘we’ because we discussed it– that we hadn't done
enough work and that not enough people would come. And that we do not know the reaction of
the people in San Fernando. We wanted to get the maximum number and we wanted to be able to– And
therefore the burden of addressing the members and whoever would turn on— The housing— What am
I saying? The San Fernando Promenade. Harris Promenade. Very famous in our life later on.
–had the responsibility– It was going to be me and Wayne and anybody else who wanted to come and go.
So we did that. This would be a Saturday when I'm not teaching and so we put off
the march because we felt that— So that is the same day NJAC had their business
done but we had no connection with NJAC. We were not involved with NJAC. We were
not involved in going UWI [University of the West Indies] campus, that whole thing. Our
business was south Trinidad and unemployed youth and what could be done for them.
So how long were you meeting as a group before you decided to
have the march? The march would have been– We were meeting, what month–?
February 26 1970 was the day that they went into the cathedral
1970. Good. We are talking about 69. About a year or so before that we had
been going on for about a little more than a year.
When did it formally become UMROBI [Universal Movement for Reconstruction of Black Identity]?
Along the way, I'll tell you about that because as I said, we wrestled with what is our focus and I
had read a little bit about Marcus Garvey. And I– how he named his organization the Universal
something. So I patterned the name, I take blame for it, I patterned the name of UMROBI, Universal
Movement for Reconstruction of Black Identity as a kind of mirror image of Garvey. Although we were
not saying, we are a Garvey movement but we would have been influenced by Garvey's original thing.
Then we staged this march in San Fernando. We went through the streets of San Fernando coming
down up on to the promenade. That was my first public speaking--
What day was that?
What’s that?
What day was that?
That was Saturday because we have to teach. My other colleagues have to teach.
So it didn't– It was originally supposed to be February 26th but it was postponed till when?
I think the week after, or two weeks after.
So that was your first public, major public speaking moment. How did it go?
We had an Impact on San Fernando. Because many people came to find out what
that is about, what alyuh–? By this time— I want to make another statement. We were not the first
in San Fernando to talk about unemployment. In fact, the first organization to do that
was an organization called Young Power. It was started by Michael Als, now deceased. Michael
was a brave fellow because he was way ahead of us. And what he did, he was working on
the unemployment in the oil belt. So he was catering for Point Fortin, Siparia and he led
a march of unemployed youth even before us. From Point Fortin to Port of Spain.
When did that march take place?
That march took place before all this thing with NJAC and even us. Michael,
after he organized that, went to England I don't know whether he was thinking of studying or what.
But he went to England and, I don't know what happened, and he came back to Trinidad and found
out that we were active. UMROBI was active and he made contact with me and started to
talk and he started to come to our meetings. Michael Als and one of his, his lieutenants,
a fellow called something Mascal. I do not know his— I look in all those— I don't have anybody
to tell me what was his first name. Just Mascal. He was living in the Roy Joseph scheme. He used
to have a– he a dougla fella, I remember vividly, he had long hair up to the shoulders. The only man
who could tell me what was his other name has since died himself. Another fellow who joined
our organization called Shelton. Shelton Williams. He died about three years ago
That's what I tell you, most of all, so many people of that era have died including NJAC. So
our focus was in fact, we were unaware of NJAC and their business. Because they were operating out of
UWI and they had some links with OWTU [Oilfield Workers Trade Union] and George Weekes and what
do you call the boss? Joe Young and his– So they formed NJAC, university students, OWTU and that.
In fact, as we were developing, every time we go and ask George and them to give
us room to hold a meeting, they gave us a cock and bull story. I say alright, we will find a
next place. So we had to be drifting around. I suppose they were more impressed by being
associated with Port of Spain university students. Who the hell is Suite and these fellows? That
continued for a long time. When we asked them to give us their hall in San Fernando for meetings,
they used to give us hell, they wouldn’t– That's another thing. Anyhow.
You were telling me about the day of the march where you had the first public speaking event
It was important because what happens is a lot of people were influenced because they saw that this
is not six people. We had people by this time, we had attracted people from Pleasantville,
that housing scheme area, all the housing schemes in San Fernando, including Marabella
and Vistabella. We had members joining and I remember every meeting we had, we used to have
meetings in the night, in one of the housing schemes that gradually people from-- Older people.
There were two Muslim boys I can't remember the name because they had an organization affiliated
with Black Muslims in America. But-- What do you call it again? Elijah Muhammad, that whole thing.
They were Black Muslims in those days, good. This is before Abu Bakr and all those Black Muslims
and but they didn't have an active organization. They had one or two members and therefore they
started to come to our meetings. They could get new ideas, they get more, some people to discuss
with and they understood that they were, they had fraternal ties with a wider attachment. I
remember those two young fellows. And we started to attract the unemployed youth. And I would,
a couple of us would go in the various housing schemes on weekends like Saturday and Sunday.
People would invite you to come and talk to the block, the scheme. And I would go and
we would talk about all and sundry things. Where I was learning while I was teaching
and we ended up going, meeting some people from deep south including some of them who were with
Michael Als before Michael organization was no longer functioning so they literally come to us.
We didn't have any formal membership form or officers. We didn't have that structure put--
And that was a serious price for us. We existed in isolation. We had no contact with NJAC,
I point out to that. We would go and spend Saturdays and or Sundays in Point Fortin,
where people invite you to come and talk. Or one of the housing schemes started to increase
your catchment. Princes Town where I came from. All of Marabella, Vistabella, that whole area up
to Claxton Bay and San Fernando. That was our focus. South Trinidad.
When the issue about Sir George Williams and that thing, this is when the NJAC became aware that
there was an organization in San Fernando called UMROBI. NJAC became aware of that. We didn't have
a very pleasant relationship because they felt that they were in the news and they were in the
papers. Who the hell is these fellas down there. Worst of all, George Weekes and them joined NJAC,
had almost nothing to do with us. We had to pay to use their hall to have a meeting
and this kind of thing but we continued. When Sir George Williams thing blew up further and
some of them were coming to Trinidad and [Eric] Williams say he go pay the money
to the Canadian people. They threw out students for what the students did do blah blah blah. So,
at this point NJAC increased its mobilization in the north. They would go to Tobago. But
what was interesting is that when they had their big meetings in the square,
some of our members even I myself would go to meetings. But I must jump backwards.
Before that, one of our meetings that we had in San Fernando that could start
sometime Mon Repos or high up in Coffee Street and then go straight on to the promenade where
we talked to a larger and larger gathering. And the meeting decided, I say meeting because some
of the young fellows decide, they come and tell me look man-- we up on the promenade,
that they feel that we should go down High Street and come back up High Street. I might
have been naive or foolish because our march had stopped on the promenade and we had had a big
meeting addressing people, not only the unemployed gathering. And I honestly didn't read the play, I
always admit that. Because it was unnecessary to go down the rest of the promenade, to go down to
the bottom of High Street, and to come up High Street which was night. No business places were
open. I misread the play. I always said so. I paid for it. That's not the important point.
I didn't want to do that. In fact, I’ll tell you something. When I reached the
top of Cipero Street, Wayne tells me he's not feeling well or some such thing so. That he
can't go down with the demonstration further down by Cipero across by Presentation up on
the promenade. Tell me he can't make it he's tired. Or some other cock and bull.
I said Wayne you're leaving me alone to be in charge of this demonstration going
down to close off on the promenade. He said, he said I can't make it,
I’m tired. He wasn't a big muscular fella, he had a slim frame. I assumed he was a—anyhow.
When we went on the promenade, we had a meeting. A number of us addressed the crowd and
then we agreed to disperse. Some of the fellows come and tell me, well listen,
they want to take the demonstration down to the hospital down the hill and up the
thing. At that point so they will disperse by the library corner. I didn't want to say no,
I said alright. When we reached the bottom of High Street, I was in the front of the demonstration,
technically leading the demonstration. We had some flags and a lot of people in the
demonstration. I remember hearing some loud noises. I couldn't understand what is that?
Some people said the police behind us at the bottom of High Street. But I said for what?
And then we realized yes there were police down there but as some of the fellows had
started to pelt bottle into the showcases of the business place at the bottom of High Street.
I said Winston, you are screwed. Can't find Wayne nowhere. Cuz I know Wayne tell meh he
can’t go and I said alright Wayne, alright. At that point, the demonstration scattered up High
Street. People running left, right, and center but generally going up. So I was in the front of
the demonstration so I continued and somebody tell me that it have police at the top of High Street
going to lock up people. They are out there. So, somebody tell me Suite,
don’t go up High Street. You have to branch off High Street to a side road. And I took
off before the top of High Street to one of the side streets where they have shacks. A lot
of shanty. Almost at the top of High Street. And the police were at the top of High Street locking
up people. On the bottom of High Street police locking up people. And demonstration disperse.
And I decided-- I remember a woman in one of the shanties tell me come inside here, come, come,
police locking up people. And I went in her shack and she asked me where you want to go, where you
going now? You can’t go out there. I said alright I will go Curepe because my brother was working in
WASA [Water and Sewage Authority]. Was an engineer in WASA and was living up the hill of Curepe and
she tell me look you hold on here I will get a taxi for you. And the woman left, went by the
taxi stand by Point-a-Pierre road there. She tell me when she get the taxi ready, full, one more,
she will come back for me. And I went and sit down in the woman house. In her shack. And she went and
when the taxi was almost full she sent back her son or grandson to tell me come it's safe now.
And I took myself up in the taxi stand opposite what used to be a gas station
and they dropped me in town. They dropped me in Curepe. Went by my brother and I stayed by
there. Next morning they-- it make Evening News the next day “Suite at Large”. They lock up A,
B and C. And charge all of us with malicious damage to showcases and taking part in a riot.
And that was an interesting exercise because it was the start of my own suspension as a teacher.
This is what appeared, “Top Black Power Men Held and More Hunted”.
[indicates a newspaper clipping] This is Wayne. This is [Winston] Leonard. He was with OWTU. They
were not involved. This was just-- I just showing you a picture of me then. And this is Wayne.
So you disappeared the day after the march.
Yeah. This is [shows newspaper clipping]. No, that is not the one.
That is not the one. This would have been in April 21st
So, there was this thing “Suite is at Large.”
Do you have a copy of that one?
I'm trying to—If I find it, I will show you.
So at that point in time UMROBI’s leadership was just you and Wayne Davis.
We were the main leaders. It had other people involved-- [indecipherable]
Who else?
Rawle Aimey and some other--
But what was the, can you give a rough estimate as to the number of your membership?
That's another interesting question. Because of
the very nature of the-- There wasn't a club with membership.
I see. People would just show up?
Yes, and therefore organizational structure-wise, we were not well-structured. It was mass
education. That was the focus. It was not forming a lodge. We had no
membership rules. We had no registration. It was free. People like me and Wayne and others
giving their service to educate Black people in the area. We had no structure in a sense.
So you believe that the guys who told you to carry the march down High Street--
I think he dead. I think he dead now.
You think they did that as a way to hide their activities--
They wanted to go and mash up-- They must have thought about breaking up some glass case.
You mean like they specifically had--
I work out up this after.
Yeah, of course. Do you think that it was just a simple,
like they just wanted to loot? Or was it that they targeted—
No, no looting took place, it was just--
Destruction of property?
Destruction of this. Because nobody noticing
them or the unemployed. And this is the unemployed strike back.
I see. But it wasn't like they targeted specific businesses. It seemed random.
No, they're coming up High Street and they mashing up people thing.
But the joke is--
So who was arrested? What was the joke?
Well, hear. I disappeared. I explained to you how I disappeared with the aid of one of these women.
Did you ever find out her name?
Never. I knew the people in that area. I thought I was doing--
So you took the escape artist route up to Curepe.
What's that?
You took an escape artist route up to Curepe. Hide in some woman's house and jump in a taxi.
From there, from the opposite, from the library
corner straight in a taxi to Curepe corner and from there I went up--
And then the next day you see “Suite at Large”.
Well when I reached my brother's house, he said boy if the police looking, they're going,
they'll come there. And I remember he carrying me on campus. I was a student long before at Mona
and I was no longer, I wasn’t a student here. And in talking, he said boy somebody said they
know Clifton de Couteau, who became a Minister. Also from Princes Town. In fact, he was a student
of mine when I was teaching at St. Stephen’s, he was a young—Your question was-- If you come here,
the police might come here. So somebody suggested boy why you don't go on campus and spend the night
by Clifton. Students’ campus, one of them. And somebody took me and carried
me on campus and I spent the night there. Next morning, I come back by my brother.
The problem at that point is-- I'm going to jump back to something--
But the – this is where things, let me take it slowly--Let me see if I can get it.
Basil Davis was another important moment in this. Because Basil Davis was shot in
the [Woodford] Square. By this time, I -- The government had sent me a letter next morning
put me on suspension. Me and Wayne for taking part in a riot and breaking glass case. Suite
break this glass case and Davis break that one. The police come and say-- I say what the
hell is this? They say yes, a police man say he saw you do this. I get away from a jail like that.
By the skin of your teeth!
I had a mission. I had a mission. Cause if I had come up High Street, anything could ha--.
They charged me for taking part in a riot. This is how I get put on suspension. The
glass case cost fifteen hundred dollars so I was charged for malicious damage of a glass case and
taking part in a riot. And this, these, those two cases were to drag on three, four years.
Let's see if you can get it chronology correct. So, these protests in Port of Spain by Student
Guild and members of the union was February 26th. You, UMROBI postponed
their protests until the following week, so that would have been the early part of March.
Yeah.
And so that's the protest where that riot took place. Then, the day after that protest,
you said that you went to your brother's house. The following day,
there was a publication saying, “Suite at Large”. So, early March, right?
What happened is that Basil Davis was killed in the Square.
That was in April, right? April? April 6th
Basil Davis-- I had been in town for a demonstration. By that time, I was suspended--
You were suspended already? Okay. So, you were staying at your brother's
house all that time? Sorry, you were staying up north on campus?
No, I had just spent the night there. I went by my brother's house. But,
the funeral of Basil Davis, there was a demonstration because he was being buried in
San Juan. So, I had left my brother's house and afterwards, going to San Juan for the funeral.
While it is, while there, somebody told me that you’re on the Evening News. So,
I didn’t go to the cemetery for the big 100,000 thing, I just turned back and get in a car and
I went back to Curepe. I went by my brother. So, I was charged before that because of the riot on
the High Street. And this was what suspended me. I was suspended from teaching based on those two
charges. Where a policeman named Brayton from Princes Town was the chief witness
giving evidence that he saw me. He was to be a chief witness in another charge later on.
I had come out and-- I told you I was in the Square, I saw the shooting [of Basil Davis]?
Can you tell me more about that?
Yes. A lot of people congregated in the Square and you had people running up
and down and moving up and down in the Square. And this fellow, Basil Davis,
and I remember he and another fellow who I didn't know, they were from Port of Spain was
running out of the Square towards the southwestern corner. That is the corner towards the cathedral--
And the library.
Right. And I was not too far from there. But I was in the Square and saw he and
the other boys all walking around in the Square. And then, I took no notice of him,
I didn't know him. They were waiting for, I suppose, Geddes [Granger] or somebody
else to give a speech. I had gone to something. There was a big meeting proposed in the town, I
went to the town. When I went back, I heard that the police
was looking for Suite. And I took off and disperse, had gotten away from there--
Tell me about the day at Woodford Square when you saw Basil Davis.
I wrote something about that. You see it become
vague in your mind. That was 1970, that is how many years?
It's also very traumatizing, isn't it?
Very. Because I saw the fellow shot. I was not far from here to
the wall [indicated distance]. And this policeman had a gun--
Less than five feet, yeah?
The wall--
Yeah
More than--
This wall, here?
No, no, the glass [indicates distance again]. He is running, the policeman behind him
and the policeman, I remember seeing this stocky policeman, aiming at him as he exited the back
gate. That gate was open. As he exited there, he turned left to go towards east and the policeman
is behind him and I don't know-- I think he turned and the policeman shot at him. But what I vividly
remember in my ears, I'm not familiar with guns, all I hear is something go bang, bang, bang. With
a highly, not explosive, boom, boom. A light thing. And the policeman had-- If I am lying,
I could fall right now-- The policeman had his gun, he had a little gun in his hand
like this [shows size using his hand] So part of his fingers would have been on the muzzle,
which is short and the rest of the gun here. And he shot at the fellow.
And this boy, who was, what you call kixsing around, I don't know what he did to provoke or
vex the policeman. But the policeman was running him down and he ran through the back gate and he
turned. The policeman shot him and you hear about two shots and he turned and fall. Dropped right
down the road. So I thought that he kixsing as I say, that is all part of the whole--That he must
be high on drugs or high on-- well, it wasn't so much drugs in those days-- high on alcohol.
And as he fell, some people went towards him, turned him over and when they turned him over,
what I was near enough to see a speck on his clothes. His jersey open up so and a
speck of blood, because it was not a hole, I am not familiar with guns, but to me,
it was a speck of blood. And as he dropped on the ground and turned over, I say he kixsing.
I didn't put two and two together and say, well, the police shoot him, but you hear the noise,
the police come up and tell people, get away from here. The fellow is on the
ground and some of the people say, but the man get shot! And the people coming
to help him because some realize that he is seriously wounded. In his chest. Left side.
And I had never seen this, I had never seen a man get shot before. I have not been involved, I am a
school teacher, I am not involved in this kind of thing. We didn't come out for that. And somebody
say, well, get a car and somebody say, call a car and they lift him up and put him in the
car to rush him to the hospital. Later on, we hear that Basil Davis died and that those
shots were shots in his heart. The first time I was so close to the shooting of a person.
I'm a school teacher. I'm a university graduate and this and that. I say boy, what the hell is
this? You understand this? Anyhow, that was the death of Basil Davis. It became a big issue.
He was young, right?
He was a young fella. He was in his 20s. Good I would have been—19-- 29. He would have been,
possibly, younger than me. And I say, he's one of the many young unemployed fellows from the Port
of Spain side, congregating in the square, and the police must be thing him and he running from
the police. And part of it is kixsing and part of it-- And the first time I ever saw somebody shot.
And killed.
And killed. So this became a big issue. And when I reached my-- I'm trying to get back things--
When I reached--It is this, I went to Curepe, not Curepe, San Juan to go to the funeral.
The funeral took place on April 9th, so just a couple days after he were shot
Yeah and somebody tell me the papers have “Suite at Large”
Did you know that the police was looking for you?
I suspected that.
Yeah, this is the State of Emergency [indicating newspaper clipping] I'm going to-- My sister had
gotten this in an old newspaper. I go try to see if I can find out before you go.
How far did you get? Because I know the funeral started--
They say, I coming from the east. I reached San Juan with the thing coming
and people say that the other side of the funeral was by the overpass.
They were coming up from Port of Spain to go up Saddle Road--
From San Juan
San Juan, yeah?
Yeah
So you didn't make it very far up?
I reached the junction.
The Croisee.
The Croisee. And I take off. Good? So that was that. I am now on suspension
You and Wayne Davis. Did you speak to Wayne Davis after the protest, the riot in Sando?
No, no, he--
He went home.
Yes
Right, and then you said--
In fact, I have said that Wayne was never on the promenade. I don't know if he changed his mind.
By the top of the Cipero Street, Wayne came to me and told me, listen, I don't think I can make
it, I'm tired. Just by this funeral agency on one side of the Cipero. I said to myself, Wayne,
you're going to leave me alone with these men to see about this thing, man. He tell me, boy, I'm
tired and so on I half believe him, I half didn’t. But time came when I made the point. To the best
of my memory, I remember standing up and seeing Wayne going across. It's about three streets,
right? Going back by where this funeral agency is there. Behind. And I said to myself, this
bitch, [[laughter] this man is going to leave me alone. Anyhow, frig that. Because I went
back with the demonstration I said, Winston you can’t duck out. If he want to duck out
that's his business. Well later on, this will come up because they charged Wayne for being
in that riot. And Wayne's father was a big man in charge of WASA at the time--
And there were police witnesses.
--and they couldn't save him from getting this charge or being suspended from teaching and
losing his job and becoming a vagrant. Going mad and becoming a vagrant in San Fernando. One day
somebody came, by the time I working up in UWI. Somebody called me and they say “Suite, when last
you see Wayne?” I said, quite some time, I don’t go to San Fernando. I think I'm now on staff in
the UWI. They tell me, Wayne is a vagrant in San Fernando, you know. I said, what do you
mean? They said, Wayne's sleeping on the road. You have to come down south to see Wayne sleeping on
the pavement in San Fernando. That's where Wayne reached. He paid the ultimate price because of the
suspension. What I did, I decided I was not going to sit down. I knew that they were not going to
reinstate me. So I decided, Winston, what are you going to do? You have to start planning.
When I was put on suspension, I didn't know what the hell I was going to do,
I was still thinking it out. Then, when the State of Emergency came,
I realized that you ent getting back in no teaching job. And when I was inside,
I wrote a letter to Ken Julien, if I could come and register to do a degree in engineering.
That's when you were detained? During the State of Emergency--
While I was detained.
You decided to become a student?
WS: Because I said I'm not going to sit down on my ass and let these people screw me. Because I'm
not getting no teaching job, I'm on suspension. In fact I was chosen, as some people does say. What
happened is, when they suspended me from teaching, I set a national record. I was on suspension from
April, from February, when this riot took place, 1970, until June of 1965. I was on suspension--
85? You're going backwards.
Huh?
You're going backwards.
How?
You said 1970.
1975.
75. Okay.
And I'm going to tell you why, because by that time I had done a bachelor's degree in engineering
and a PhD in engineering.
So what's the record? Longest suspension?
Check it. I was reinstated when the government decided to no longer charge,
carry on the charges against me. The main charges, the two charge on High Street, I won it.
Okay.
I fight my case myself.
I represent myself in court. And I'll tell you why, and my wife had nothing to do with that.
And you didn't study law.
--She was in law sometime after. So—
What--
Just now, let me give you this—See why I say it's good that you come
because next year I mightn’t be able to remember anything.
I’m sure you will be remembering for a very long time.
What I said is look, Winston, when they put, when Williams declared a State of Emergency,
they arrested a lot of us, I included. Put me on Nelson Island, I spent, I think 28
days of the first State of Emergency. And then Williams-- They moved me-- I missed the number,
I used to say 17 but some people tell me it's 12 of us who were charged with sedition. I
could call some of them, I tried to call [Clive] Nunez to get some of the names of the fellas. A
lot of them dead. You see what happened is a hundred people were detained on Nelson Island.
A hundred people?
A hundred. When I was in the National Trust, I tried to make up a list and
if you go on Nelson Island, you'll see a list of names. I did that when I was
now employed as the Chairman of the Board of the National Trust. That's why I say I would
like to see that place called [Uriah] Butler’s Island, because he spent more
time there than all of us. He was detained twice. Good. And you have to document this.
I’ll do my best.
He has to be recognized, he's one of our national heroes. I know you, I hope,
you have other things to do. But I taking your time. You're busy? You have to go anywhere else?
I'm here for as long as I need to be here.
Well good. I'm going to tell you all I remember.
Can you tell me what prompted you to go into Port of Spain for the march?
I went to the march because I’m on suspension by this time. A big, they're having this big
demonstration in Port of Spain. So I, I ent working so I said I'm going in town. I'm going to
see, hear what they have to say, what NJAC had to say. And what is the state of what going on. Good?
Remember at this point, I have two charges against me. Malicious damage to the tune of fifteen
hundred dollars and taking part in-- Malicious damage and taking part in a riot. Two charges.
Then Williams declares a State of Emergency on the 21st. I am in my mother's house. We had a
meeting in San Fernando. And I came home in my mother's house where I was living.
And we were ole talking, a couple of us on the pavement. Me and one of the fellows
that I know, who is dead now. And somebody else. We were there talking and I said boy
it's two o'clock, it's time to go and sleep. And I went inside in my bed in my mother house.
And then suddenly, she come in the back and tell me police outside and they come for you.
My mother in a state. In front of my mother's house, parked up, several police vehicles full
of police men and at the back of the house, in case I flee or attempt to flee, they had big long
guns. By this time now, so I'm going to find out this when I come outside. Because when they come,
they come to the front door knocking. A little old house, my mother, my father there. Police come,
they come. “The big man in San Fernando send us to bring you down.” For what? They tell me they
don't know, they just given instructions to go and collect me and bring me down and charge me. And
that was the truth, you know. The police men who come, they didn’t know what was going on.
They didn't know it was a State of Emergency?
No, they didn't know that. They found out after. But they were told to go and hold people. And I
was one of the first people in San Fernando to be held. When I hear, I told my mother, my mother
she said boy the police outside. I tell her don't worry yourself. Don't worry yourself,
whatever is to be will be. Take off—change my clothes and I went outside. When I reach out,
they tell me go in the backseat. Police men on one side and I in the center, and then policemen in
the front. Then I seeing police coming from all in the back of my house, loaded with big long guns.
In other words, I realise, these fellas surround the house, they had gone all down in the back,
in the bush, around the house, in case I had tried to run, they would shoot. I realise
that when I come outside and I seeing police all in the back of the house and the yard.
They carry me to San Fernando. In the charge room. The main charge thing, office in front.
And they tell me how the big man-- I'm trying to remember what the hell was his name-- send
them to bring me. When they bring me, they put me to sit down in the charge room. They tell me hold
on there and now, I say what am I here for? They tell me the boss will come just now. It
was four o'clock in the morning when they took me from my mother’s house. And I never saw a
senior policeman to tell me anything until about eight o'clock, nine o'clock. I am sitting down,
seeing people coming. They walking, then they bring George Weekes come and
they put George Weekes there and Winston Leonard come. Nuevo Diaz. Three fellows who was walking in
the union. Senior officers in the union. They put that-- They don't
seem to know what was going on. One of them start to suspect, boy is a State of Emergency.
I was the first person to be brought in from Princes Town. The others came in after and
somewhere around eight o'clock, nine o'clock, or something so. They
come and usher you in downstairs, into the Black Maria, you know the big van that they do thing,
inside, lock the door. And you inside. Nobody ent telling you anything,
explaining or telling. They don't have no responsibility. They say that they
get instructions from Port of Spain to go and collect the rest of you. All right, that was it.
I don't know, whether they will—in those days, the government could have shoot you.
They could have claimed to say you get shot in anything and-- When you reach Port of Spain,
they decided to head towards St James to the army. And when they reached the army gate,
I remember this vividly, that's why it's important that you-- Nobody waiting for you to go?
When I am, I reach Tetron. And I said nobody know the hell... All of we. Four of us,
five of us. Nuevo Diaz. George Weekes. Winston Leonard. In the back of the van. And they drive
in. They reached to go into the-- What do you call it? The base. Nobody know what happening.
I remember vividly looking out through the wire up, high up there and I saw a young man who I knew
in my youth. He came from Princes Town, we used to call him Balcatee. His name was Harold Stephens,
right. Years after I saw him in Sea Lots. He used to live there but we never got to meet to talk
about that. I saw him there and I said boy what is going on. He say boy, hell going on in the army,
the army revolt. I say alright. That’s all he know. And he is now on the outside of the gate
with some other military people. This is a friend who grow up with me, he about a year older than
me. He used to live in a house about from here to a lil further than that one [points] next
door. We grow up together. Balcatee. Sister name Ingrid or Evelyn, something so. I remember his
brother name Joseph. All ah we grow up on the same hill in Princes Town. Nobody
could tell you what happening. They took me in to town. When you reach
down on the base and you hear that they in thing here. So somebody in the gate vicinity tell them,
you better carry those fellas back in town because the army in upheaval.
This is the same day that Raffique Shah and [Rex] Lasalle--
They were inside the base with their own problems inside of there, which
I knew nothing about. I had never met Raffique Shah, I didn't know Raffique Shah. I had never
had any dealings with any of the fellas in the army. They carried us back in to Port of Spain,
in the main police station. You see the one that Abu Bakr and them had blow up
once? Carried us downstairs. They have big cells downstairs, and they put you in a cell,
I can't remember whether I was alone or what. What I remember vividly is that we could climb up and
peep outside at the highest level and realize that, what you are seeing is the road level,
so that your building in which you are, you are in the basement, below road level.
We stayed there for quite some time until it was almost dark and then they came back and they moved
us from there back into a van, back down in the base. And when we come out of the base,
this fella, [Jack] Kelshall, the one who, was he the one who had the [indecipherable]? It was
either him or his brother or his cousin, I can't remember who it was. But Kelshall,
one of them, was in charge of a set of Coast Guard people and they took us out, put us on a boat,
and carried us out to Nelson Island. Come out and you went. They had, what do you call it,
police? Coast Guard. Coast Guard and some police surrounding the building.
The building is still there if you go and get a, excuse me, a view of it. And they put us
inside the building. The building had no rooms. Subsequently, they went and they built cells, but
then it was one big open hall, and they locked the front door on us and that's it. So that now, this
is night of William's State of Emergency. By this time, you find out there is a State of Emergency.
But while we were downstairs in this basement, you're hearing people running up and down.
Police running up and down. Because some of them are frightened, they jump
in their car and they going because they're afraid of the army. And every now and again,
you hear some gun shoot off, because, and you are now eight feet below ground level,
kept in this darkness, in a literally at the mercy of whoever, whatever, on whatever charges.
I spent 25 or 28 days, one of those numbers there, on Nelson Island. By which time, they had more,
almost 100 people collected down there. Then we were taken into Port of Spain by
[indecipherable] into the Red House. Driving from the basement of the Red House, coming inside,
and you're come up the stairs, that was the high court. And we were read charges. That
you were charged with sedition. Somehow or the other, I think we knew that we
were going to court. They may have read the charges on Nelson Island for us. And
I remember writing a piece of prose, I wish I find it, I can't find it nowhere.
At that time, you wrote this thing?
Yes, you expect to die anytime. I wrote, it was in defense—[phone chimes] I'll
call the name just now. There is a French Jew who was charged with
sedition and he spent time on an island, on the island. [Captain Alfred] Dreyfus. I tell
you, I'm frightened [points at head]. I hope you taking all this down.
[laughter] You're doing a good job.
Eh?
You're doing a good job. Don’t worry about your memory, it will come.
I wrote that, because, to me-- I used to read a lot-- Dreyfus was charged because
the other non-Jewish officers were envious of his meteoric time in the French-- And they conspired
to fabricate a charge of treason against Dreyfus. It's a famous, books have been written on it. And
films have been made on it. And the case has been about, you know-- because Dreyfus, somebody,
one of the famous French philosophers organized a mobilization of people in France, in Paris.
And forced them after a couple of years to open the case of Dreyfus. And Dreyfus was exonerated.
So you felt this was similar to your situation?
Because some people had fabricated a charge against him. Because I’m saying, what have I done?
But sedition is supposed to be proven, isn't it?
Well, girl, all of those things.
So about 100 people would have been charged for that?
No, they were charged with lesser things. About 12 or 16
of us were charged with sedition. And that charge would be vacated,
six and some years after. The government one day, by this time I finish the masters,
the bachelor’s degree. I had almost finished the experimental work and the write-up
of the first draft for my PhD. And I received a letter while I am finishing my write-up.
It was telling me that the government was no longer intending to pursue the matter of
sedition against me. And therefore, I had to report to the Ministry of Education to
be reinstated in my teaching job. So I was on suspension with half pay, that's a next
issue I’ll raise today. Wonderful story. I was charged with sedition with twelve other people.
On the 23rd of January, February, I was put on suspension until- that is 1970, 1976, June!
I received a letter. By which time, I had done a bachelor's degree, I got a first-class. I did,
I got a scholarship to do my PhD, I get vex then, so I decided-- Just the same week when
I got vex with them, I was on a research-- What do you call it again? A fellowship, scholarship,
government, university scholarship for coming first in your class. That's another story.
There were people who were trying to stop me from getting a job. And
I said, really, if that is the case, if I come first in my class,
and alyuh doh want to give me a job, and I see you hiring other people the years
before. Hiring people who ent do as good, I think, I said, no, I got mad vex and I said,
it's a good thing I had been working pell mell. I said, decided on my own, I was not-- I finished--
I did the master's, the bachelor's degree but it cost me four years because after
I finished the first year, and going to second year in November, the government
extended the State of Emergency, and locked me up the second time. So,
I was suspended in all-- First, we spent from April to November
April to November. The first State of Emergency
The first State of Emergency. Then the second State of Emergency,
it was about nine months. So in all, it was about 15 to 16 months in prison.
In the prison.
The second time-- therefore I lost a year. I end up doing the degree in four
years, that I should have done in three years. And while I was in there, I said, I'm not going
to waste my time at all. And I decided that I will set my own pace. I will finish my PhD. This is
not arrogance. This is-- I was screwed, and I had to catch up. So I decided I will not spend three
years, I told my potential supervisor, he told me to come back and do a master's. I said, if I
come back and do a master's, maximum two years. I will finish this in two years.
All I want is your support, and to make sure that they correct it on time, and two years.
If it's a PhD, three years. I'm not staying any-- I have lost too many years. Good? So,
I told you, the government decided after six years and something,
six years and a half, that they will no longer pursue that case. In the meantime,
I had defended myself on the two charges in San Fernando and had them thrown out.
I appeared on my own defence. So, it took me about three years for the case to come up, and every
day I had to take time off from my lectures and to go down to San Fernando. I was mad vex. And
there's no stopping me. When you're mad vex, you
do all kinds of things, you know. I was mad vex. I was mad vex for years.
If you weren’t suspended-- I would be mad vex too.
I finished my PhD, experimental work, in a year and a half.
Really?
And when they told me that in June, I had almost written up the first draft. And I said to myself,
I said, Winston, these people testing me. And I go in the Ministry, and I remember the fellow
who I had to meet. I tell him, I say, why are you all sending me Point Fortin as a relief teacher?
You're all trying to get me to resign. And he smiled and smiled and said, is that possible?
He said that?
I said, anything possible. And I said, never forget it, I decided I will go-- Conveniently,
I got annoyed with the university because they didn't want to appoint me on a job.
Somebody make me apply, and when the time comes, they had they meeting,
and they said, well, no Suite don't have enough experience. So they're not giving me-- Yeah,
I don't have enough experience. And they did not want to—A certain fella in the faculty,
senior in the department didn’t want me. I wasn't the right kind of person
And I was to show them that I'm more than the right kind of person. So,
I resigned from the teaching fellow, what do you call, teaching assistant,
instantly that evening. The same evening, I decided to resign, I get a letter telling me,
report to the Ministry. I said, so I resigned from the UWI, and I said,
I do, I finished all work. My first reaction was emotional, was to burn, I'll tell you the truth,
was to burn my thesis. I had all the experimental work written up in two years.
I said, this stupid thing tries to drive me—all the years I spend doing that, my bachelors,
my PhD finished, almost. What are they going to say, that I'm a mad, that I’m incompetent, or what
it is. But the forces were great. The forces were great that were allayed against me. So,
they sent me to Point Fortin, as a relief teacher. I did it for about two
weeks. Leave Tunapuna where I was living to reach San Fernando, racing hard, and one day,
I'll tell you the truth, this is undocumented, one day I overtook a taxi driver, round a corner,
and as I overtook the driver, something came to me, Winston what the ass you trying to do?
You're going to get killed. Possibly that's what they wanted to do, by sending you down Point. So,
you know what happened? End of June, I resigned. So, I resigned from teaching, and I pack up. I
changed my mind, I said, alright, I won't burn the thesis. I almost finished it.
[laughter] Good!
Because my aim was three years. I had it done, inside and out. But the forces allayed against
me. They take long to correct it. So, it ended up three and a half years, before I graduated.
I said, well, the forces that are against you, are not equal to the forces that are for you.
I left teaching, the longest person on suspension, six years and a half, or something like that.
And then, they threw up their hand, and they're no longer charging sedition against
me. I won the cases in San Fernando. I had a
PhD, I had a master's degree. I said, well, what the hell are you doing? My brother told me,
he had an engineering company, he said, well, come and work. I didn't want to work--
I went and worked for him for six years, as a contractor.
After that time, I was tired of that, and I left. And, at that time, they called me in the faculty.
If I'll change my mind and come and work. I said, yes and, I went back to the university after six
years And, I have never left. Because, when I left, I was kept on for about three years,
part-time. And then, Julien called me to join the staff at UTT [University of Trinidad and
Tobago]. I stayed there for about 15 years, or 18 years, or something, helping them do
their work. I'm still a professor emeritus in UWI. They appointed me a professor emeritus.
So, I say the forces-- For some reason,
they wanted to teach me a lesson or just set me on a path of wanting-- But, I
didn't want to be a teacher. But, so here am I, being a perpetual student.
And, a reluctant teacher.
No, I'm not a reluctant teacher.
Not anymore?
No. My students, in a way, make me feel that I have done wonders. I never wanted to be a teacher.
But, when students meet me in the airport, or they meet me, I just came back from the UK and,
they come and look for me. And, carry on this kind of thing to make me feel good that I help them,
I said, well, boy, possibly you didn't want to be a teacher, but--
You were meant to be a teacher.
--But, you had to be a teacher. That is not your choice. I resisted the idea of being a teacher.
I thought that that was not what I wanted.
So, what did you think you wanted to do?
Medicine. But, that is another story. That you
might have to save-- Ask me what you want to ask me now.
So, the two charges during the State of Emergency were both sedition charges?
The two charges, no, first I told you the two charges before the State of Emergency were--
Yeah, those two were--
It was based on the High Street thing,
right? Malicious damage of breaking a glass case and taking part in a riot.
Yeah
Those were the two charges.
Right. And then, for State of Emergency, you were charged with sedition both times?
But, there was only one time. You were charged with sedition and they just keep--
And they extended—Right, okay.
I wasn't studying them. So, at the end of it, I said-- some people say you're blessed,
others say you've had a function, a role, something to play. And that's,
that is why you were protected. You are protected. I told you my age?
Yeah.
I tell myself, I am lucky. There are plenty of people who grow up with me, dead.
There are plenty of people who are detained with me, dead. So I say, well,
boy, possibly somebody watching over you and you have a purpose. It's arrogance, eh? Sounds like
arrogance. But I can’t explain it. I mean, when the struggle going on, you feel bitter and when
it finishes, you tell yourself, it could have gone on--. You know, Wayne became mad.
But he wasn't--Was he also arrested during the State of Emergency?
Yes. Well, he was kept on Nelson Island. When he came out, he was already shaking from the impact
of the thing. And then, after that, Wayne became mad. Lost. Became insane on that, whatever you
call it. So I say, well, boy, you could have been like that. There are a lot of people who,
when they went into their lock up, they just give up. Some of them didn’t know what to do.
Some migrate. One or two of them who migrate were able to finish—[Russel] Andalcio was able to do
a degree somewhere in Canada. So that all have not failed. Some of them were able to establish—
There's a fellow, a Jamaican fellow, [Carl] Blackwood. He was, detained with us and
charged us with sedition. He ended up with a, going to France and England, I think. The last
time I heard about him is that he was in Canada. He did a PhD in electrical engineering. He was
doing electrical engineering, bachelor's degree here. He ended up doing a PhD. So he did fairly
well after. He got married to an Indian girl, her father had an engineering company here. So,
the story is about that.
What other areas are you interested in? As I told you, I went back in the UWI, I became an
academic. I had my struggles with them inside of me. They found that I want to go too fast.
What, what became of UMROBI?
That's a nice question. When I came out of prison, the first time, we assembled, reassembled.
Decimated. And a lot of people frightened and all kind of things. Some were in prison,
someone in detention, some afraid that-- the police threaten them and all kinds of things
like that. It was an elaborate program to destroy any kind of organizational thing. All
the organizations in general, they suffer from all different kinds of problems. We had the harassment
of the police and young people feel afraid and then the government started the programs here
and there. And they will give out something here to distract the young people. It was difficult.
So what we did, we joined, there was a No Vote campaign. We got involved
with [James] Millette and their organization and a few other organizations and we organized the No
Vote campaign. That was when I came out. So I spent my time studying academic work and doing
political work. That was all I stopped reading anything, never go to-- stop going to the cinema,
stopped doing this, stopped doing all that. I devoted my life to two things, the organization
and getting a good degree. And then, that was then, the second State of Emergency, locked up
again. And we came outside and reorganized with great difficulty and after somewhere around--
I'm trying to remember the exact time-- this is about 1976.
We had joined-- Raffique Shah joined with [Basdeo] Panday.
Panday and they had the-- what do you call the organization?
I'll call it-- this is Panday and Shah, Joe Young. I'll call it-- They had an organization
and that survived and we used to, some of our members-- we had a long debate what we should
do and some of them decided they want to get involved in that and a couple of them went
into that. And we kept surviving, meeting from time to time. Diminished. Depleted
number and impact. Then we started to face reality in 1976. ULF [United Labour Front]. Some
of our members tried to be in ULF and be in our organization.
And the strain became too great for people. We were all six years older, who had wife and
children. And the question of jobs, difficulty in getting jobs. You can't get jobs with profile.
We engaging in
a serious analysis, a serious analysis as to what is demanded
from the members by the objective situation in politics and decided
one day that--you end up with the shell of an organization. NJAC went through the
same kind of thing. We decided we would close down shop. It was a sad bitter day and we did
that for a number of years, members shut down but kept active. Some members went in
the trade union movement, others retreat and then go away. My own personal case,
I decided that there are other ways to contribute to this.
I took up the issue of writing, I hope you would be interested in some of this,
I took up the issue of reparations. I have written possible a dozen papers. Some of them published,
some of them not published. About what reparation means, what do we expect of our so-called national
leaders. But first thing, I broke up the whole historical period into looking at the
issue of the African man in the Caribbean, as a slave, from the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade.
So we have had this struggle for ownership, and a struggle for economic power going on for a very
long time. I think that's reflected back in this 1970 revolution. Even though you weren't
part of the NJAC, the whole north movement officially, you know.
The way we were carrying on, our main focus was unemployment. But it,
because of its nature and the membership, we started to discuss the question of the
African in Trinidad. And the question of what the government responsibility is. Because I was
telling you about that. First you have the period during slavery. At the end of the emancipation,
there was never attempted to distribute land or to compensate the Africans.
As a matter of fact, the plantation owners were the ones being compensated.
Good. So that is first. Then we go from the period of 1834, 1838, to 1946. When
the local government is kicking out the earlier fellows who tried to fight the guns on them after.
And in 1956 with the PNM, and then 1962. In 1962, the discussion with the British never
included a reparation for the Africans. That's a debt that our government took over when they
became independent. Took over that debt from the British government up until now.
Wealth, generation wealth, is a thing that never matured in our system. So my father,
when we would go to high school, we were living in a rented house.
Renting is the evidence of the fact you never had generational wealth. So that's a fact. And,
our government, Williams with all his progressive thing,
never took up the issue with the British about land distribution or reparation for the Africans.
And that led to this economic imbalance?
Ah, yes. Then we find now, so they lock up people thinking that they would quell the thing but it
continues. Then we look at 1976. We are now a republic. We have a second constitution but the
constitution does not deal with the backlog of the debt. Neither does it deal with human
rights and fundamental rights of the Africans. Or the cumulative debt to the First Peoples.
Good? They even carry out some brutality against the East Indians too, you know.
But I'm saying this is the colonial debt. And when the government, Williams and them take over,
they were supposed to, they should have dealt with that problem. They chose not to do it. Why is it
that what we have is a generation of only death? Young men dying every day, fighting each other,
killing each other. That's the effect. The failure to deal with the reparation question.
Short summary of interview:
Winston Suite shares his background in teaching, his involvement in educational reform, and his leadership in organizing movements aimed at addressing youth unemployment in South Trinidad. He talks about the formation of the Universal Movement for Reconstruction of Black Identity (UMROBI), the challenges faced during the 1970s, and his advocacy for the education and advancement of rural communities.
Additional Material
Photograph of the narrator in his home, photograph of narrator as a young man
Info Sheet
Citation:
Atherton, A. (2024, September 12). Winston Suite – Trinbago Griot. Trinbago Griot. https://trinbagogriot.com/item/winston-suite/
Project Information
Memories of Trinidad and Tobago’s 1970 Revolution is an oral history project aimed at capturing the stories, experiences, and legacies of individuals who played key roles in the 1970 Revolution in Trinidad and Tobago. The project seeks to provide a platform for those voices that helped shape the movement, which in turn, transformed the nation.
List of People Mentioned:
- Basil Davis
- Bradda Lynch
- Clifton de Couteau
- Clive Nunez
- Eric Williams
- Geddes Granger (Makandal Daaga)
- George Weekes
- Harold Stephen
- Jessel Alexis
- Joe Young
- Ken Julien
- Michael Als
- Mr. Laltoo
- Rawle Aimey
- Roy Joseph
- Shelton Williams
- Sonowa
- Wayne Davis
- Winston Suite
List of Places Mentioned:
- Cipero Street
- Coffee Street
- Curepe
- Harris Promenade
- Mon Repos
- Mona
- Naparima College
- Nelson Island
- Pleasantville, Marabella, Vistabella
- Point Fortin
- Presentation College, San Fernando
- Princess Town
- Queens Royal College (QRC)
- San Fernando
- St. Stephen’s College
- Woodford Square
Interview Keywords:
- 1970 Black Power Revolution
- 1970 Revolution
- Black Power Movement
- Black Power Revolution
- Caribbean
- Caribbean Civil Rights
- February Revolution
- National Joint Action Committee
- Revolution
- Social Justice
- Social Justice Movement
- Tobago
- Trinidad
- Trinidad and Tobago
- Universal Movement for Reconstruction of Black Identity
Acronyms:
- NJAC
- OWTU
- QRC
- UMROBI
- UTT
- UWI
- WASA
Trinidadian Creole English:
- Alyuh
- Bawling
- Bussing up
- Frig that
- Kixsing
- Lewwe
- Take front before front take you
