Our Own Animal Farm

There I was, on Sunday, minding my own business, sitting in my car with my brother and his fair lady, waiting patiently for the long line of cars before us to inch forward towards the turn-off for Pigeon Island and Jazz. We had just come from the airport where I had picked them up after their long journey from Canada. They were tired but happy to be here, when suddenly, from way behind us came speeding, sirens screaming, a pair of police outriders on the wrong side of the road followed by a black vehicle with the now infamous MP number plates of our illustrious leaders – you know, the ones who begged for our votes not so long ago.

I mean, if our MP-plated ‘betters’ had been rushing off to sign some game-changing accord, some international agreement, some solution to all our economic woes, I could have accepted this rude uncouth behaviour, but all the buggers inside the darkly tinted windows were doing was jumping the queue to get to Jazz before much lesser mortals.

Then there was the now infamous questioning of a Minister of Government by the police in connection with reportedly rowdy, raucous, possibly – who knows? – alcohol-induced carousing during the wee, wee hours of Sunday morning.

Saint Lucia is fast becoming George Orwell’s Animal Farm in which Old Major, played by John Compton, the old boar on the Manor Farm, urges the animals on the farm to take over the reins of power. When Major dies, two young pigs, Rex and Schizo, played by u-no-hoo, vie for command. They adopt Seven Commandments of Animalism, the most important of which is, “All animals are equal.”

Rex teaches the animals to read and write, while Schizo educates vicious dogs on the principles of Animalism. Food is plentiful, and the farm runs smoothly. The pigs elevate themselves to positions of leadership and set aside special food items, ostensibly for their personal health. Schizo has his dogs chase Rex away and subsequently declares himself leader of Animal Farm.

Schizo enacts changes to the governance structure of the farm, replacing meetings with a committee of pigs who will run the farm. Napoleon and his goons convince the animals that Rex is trying to sabotage their projects. Schizo purges the farm of opposition, killing animals he accuses of consorting with his old rival, Rex. The animals, dumb as they are, remain convinced that they are better off than they were before Schizo took over.

Throughout the turmoil, Boxer the workhorse continues to toil harder and harder, until he collapses. Schizo sends for a van to take Boxer to the veterinary surgeon, explaining that better care can be given there. Benjamin, the cynical donkey, notices that the van belongs to a knacker, and attempts a futile rescue. Schizo sells his most loyal and long-suffering worker to be killed and made into glue.

Years pass, and the pigs start to resemble humans; they walk upright, carry whips and wear clothes.

The guiding commandments of Animalism are ‘modified’.

‘Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy’, but Schizo’s pigs start dealing with humans and end up walking on two legs.

‘Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend’, but Schizo’s pigs end up thinking any animal who walks on four legs or has wings in inferior.

‘No animal shall wear clothes’, but Schizo’s pigs all start wearing fine suits.

‘No animal shall sleep in a bed’, but Schizo’s pigs sleep in many different beds.

‘No animal shall drink alcohol’, but Schizo’s pigs drink themselves silly on a regular basis.

‘No animal shall kill any other animal’ becomes ‘No animal shall kill any other animal without cause unless extra judicially’.

And finally, ‘All animals are equal’ becomes ‘All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others’.

So move aside, Saint Lucians, and allow your ‘betters’ to pass, for they are much more equal than you will ever be!