Hartley Neita, Contributor

God gave me 30 more years to live, 30 years ago. I looked into the muzzles of five weapons - two rifles and three revolvers - wondering which one would blast holes in my body.

I wondered how much pain I would feel and how long there would be life and if I would moan, groan and cry, as I had not done for years.

I thought of my children, who were then going to school in the country, and hoped they would know that they were in my last thoughts.

Discussing crimep>I was then the head of the Jamaica Information Service. The agency had just developed and mounted a 'Bring in the Guns' campaign. Hundreds had been turned in but, obviously, these five were not.

I was with a group of about 10 persons. Eight, including Hope Sealy, Hu Gentles, Winnie Risden, and Deryck Roberts, were executives of the Jamaica Tourist Board.

They were holding a marketing seminar at the Stony Hill Hotel and had invited Ralston Smith, head of a private public-relations company, and I, to join them to discuss the effect that crime was having on the tourist industry and to discuss strategies to counter the problem.

So, it was a frightening coincidence to realise that we were facing the reality of our discussions when the five men entered the room in which we were holding our conference.

Prodded and searched

They were all young men. One was a teenager. He was very talkative and, except for the leader, who instructed us what to do and what not to, the others were silent.

The leader told us they wanted our money, car keys and guns.

Being nice people who did not believe that honest and law-abiding citizens needed guns, we had none.

Naturally, we were not believed. uptown ladies and gentleman like us needed guns to protect us from the wicked downtown men.

We were ordered to lie face-down while they prodded our bodies with their weapons and searched us.

The leader of the gang was subsequently caught. I identified him. I had to touch him. He sat looking at me and I am sure he was saying to himself: "I should have killed this mother..." He subsequently escaped and was finally shot.

I still remember that night's fright. I will, until I really die.

Any experience?

I wonder if Carolyn Gomes and other members of her organisation, Jamaican for justice, have ever experienced the long moments when their lives were seconds away from ending.

I wonder, too, if the members of Amnesty International, and other human rights groups, have ever seen men with cold eyes, silently debating whether they should pull the triggers of their guns and get rid of these mothers ...

Do they wonder what if their mothers, wives or daughters were raped, brutalised and murdered?

Protection

I often think, especially at nights before falling asleep, of the night in Stony Hill when I saw death in the muzzles of five guns.

I think of the many pleasures I have enjoyed since and give thanks to God for protecting me that night.

Neither Jamaicans for Justice nor Amnesty International can protect me. Is it that we should give these murderers cake?

A gunman can earn thousands in one robbery. They even earn more thousands for a contract killing.

That's their job. A weekly job they are qualified to do will earn them paltry cents.

Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com.