Hartley Neita, Contributor
ONE day last week, the first six or seven items in the news on one of the radio stations reported stories of murders or of fire or something else as tragic which had taken place in Jamaica.
A subsequent night, there were a similar number of tragic stories on television, including the deaths of three "just-born" babies under strange circumstances. The dark red bloodstains of those killed were shown.
I used to enjoy listening to parts of the early morning talk show programmes on radio. Or I thought I did, and the excuse was that they were informative and educational. At one time also, because of the nature of my work, I had to listen and read the transcripts of the noon time radio call-in programmes. The habit continued for a year or two after I ended that career and changed gear to do more personally satisfying activities.
Daily messages
Then, I suddenly realised I could become an addict to the daily messages. In fact I should thank Cliff Hughes publicly for "removing the scale from my eyes" and "the wax from my ears" and letting me realise that I was replacing my two-pack-a-day cigarette habit which was dangerous for my health, for another which was as destructive, mentally and emotionally.
That revelation was when I heard Hughes shouting at one of our national leaders, telling him to shut up as "this is MY programme". I had heard similar tirades from other talk-show hosts before, but on this occasion I was shocked.
Some time ago I began preparing a Jamaican dictionary listing some of the new words which have crept into our lexicon and listing those which are passé. These latter words are "love", "respect", "please" "sorry", "forgive", "darling" "sweetheart", and phrases such as "May I?", "Good morning", and "After you".
Exotic condoms are now sent to women on Valentine Day instead of flowers! How crass!!!
We have become a nation of uncouth and vulgar people. Language has become crude and ugly. Women are equated to dumb animals, serving the one purpose of five minutes lustful satisfaction. Not even as the song of yesterday said, "Give me five minutes more". The abuse of our leaders and our women is no longer confined to bars and private verandahs, but is now etched permanently on tapes and records and discs, and transmitted for the world to see on the Internet.
The excuse now is for freedom of expression and freedom of information.
All is not lost, however. This week, a 24-year-old young man who had quarrelled with his girlfriend recently, published an advertisement in Montego Bay's Western Mirror newspaper. In it he bared his heart and soul.
Mistakes
"I am very sorry, for walking out on you when you needed me the most," he wrote. "I wasn't thinking. I was so angry at what you had said to me, and I was so upset that I blamed everyone but myself. I have made many mistakes in my life but this is the BIGGEST ONE. I only hope I can undo it for I am lost without you. I have never loved anyone the way I love you, and no one has ever loved me as much as you. So please give me the chance to prove that I am still the one you fell in love with and let us stand together in love."
The reaction to this advertisement was, of course, interesting. According to The Gleaner Staff Reporter Pat Roxborough, several men thought he should not have done it. "He has belittled himself and he will no longer be able to profile like a man," one said.
Yet, another felt. "That is a big man. If I saw him I would shake his hand."
The comment I liked was by a woman who said "the usual story is that of 'man beat woman', so when something like this happens it is not a little thing. Man must go to any length to get back a woman. She must feel like a million dollars. US$!"
And the conclusion is that Debbie has all but forgiven him. Thanks to the advertisement.
Yes, let's make love. Not war. May they live happy, as long as they are in love.
