Cheap NFL Jerseys Wholesale zf10ljbp

fd9je6mn

By Michael Benjamin A preacher and a minibus driver died after their vehicles collided on a dangerous highway. Shortly afterwards, the pair appeared before the Creator to be assigned their final places in destiny. The Good Lord looked upon the preacher and condemned him to hell.Touts will go to any length to secure passengers He was more compassionate on the mini-bus driver, instructing that he receives a royal welcome into the ‘promised land.’ Puzzled, the preacher demanded an explanation. “Lord, all of my life I have served Thee. I have done good things; converting sinners and baptizing Your followers. I have even extrapolated the virtues of wholesome living; yet You have condemned me to such untold misery, while bestowing upon someone as vile as that minibus driver untold blessings.Why am I condemned to such ignominy? “It’s simple,” explained the Lord, “You see, when you preached, your audience slept, but when that man drove, his passengers prayed.” If you are a Guyanese, you would have experienced a ride in a minibus. Therefore, you must be able to relate to the experience of travelling with your ‘heart in your hands,’ as these machines negotiate dangerous turns while overtaking other vehicles, in their rush to meet the boss man’s daily quota plus take home a dandy piece.While in the bus the music, (sic) is so loud that you cannot even hear yourself think. Upon disembarking, you experience a strange ring in your ears that resounds and echoes. You wonder if you are going deaf, and make a mental note to speak with your doctor. You can also now explain why you have to repeat one instruction thrice before your friends hear you. You think that such noises are ludicrous and insipid. The bus drivers and conductors call it music.A short drop lasts between 10 and 30 minutes. During this time, passengers are compelled to enjoy the raucous Jamaican vulgarities called songs that valiantly attempt to separate your brain from your head. Consumers become disgusted and fed up, and either rush to buy a motorcycle or attempt to qualify for a ‘deals on wheels’ loan at the Republic Bank to purchase some form of transportation that would spare them the dangers of running mad.Those passengers that dare to complain are singled out for abuse. They are fed a litany of obtuse verbs, compliments of the conductor, driver, or, sadly, other passengers who seem to be enjoying the ‘music.’ They consider your protests an abuse to their listening pleasure. Instead of supporting your call for peace and tranquility, they aggressively confront complainers with, “Like you old or wha?” or “If yo don’t like it, ketch another bus!”The situation was not always like this. I remember as a young man I had the luxury of a choice of buses. There were the big yellow buses and the TATA buses. These buses facilitated about thirty seated passengers and about a dozen standees. Bus drivers were popular people, and commuters enjoyed a first name relationship with most of them. As such, you would often hear your parents saying things like, “I have to hurry if I want to travel with Singh,” or “Hurry up, children! Peter will arrive at the Guyhoc Terminal in five minutes.” Parents planned their schedules on par with those of the buses.No one can clearly remember when these big buses dwindled and subsequently disappeared; but they did, to be replaced by the notorious mini-buses.Now, don’t get me wrong! When these buses first hit town, they were extremely essential to commuters. At first, they were not allocated zoning districts, as obtains today. This meant that a driver could have awoken on Monday morning and chosen to work the Lodge/South or the Campbellville/Kitty route without having to go through the humbug of seeking permission from the authorities.The problem with this arrangement was that bus drivers would observe which route had the most consumers and switch their route to accommodate them. Therefore, a bus may be working the Lodge/South route and the driver notices a larger buildup of consumers travelling to Kitty. Automatically, he would change his route. Consumers started to bellyache over such insensitivities, and the authorities responded effectively by establishing the zoning arrangement.Depending on how one regards the minibus, it can be dubbed problematic or extremely integral to consumers.While there will be a host of exemptions, there are still quite a few citizens who experience nostalgic moments of the transportation industry of yesteryear. I am not an old man, but I have had my days of travelling in the big yellow buses and the TATA buses.The bus terminal was situated just in front of the Stabroek Market, on the square known as ‘Jurassic Park.’One could have bought yearly, monthly or daily passes at the office, situated mere metres away from where the buses parked. Bus sheds were strategically placed along the many routes, and consumers would diligently stand at those terminals awaiting the next bus. Nowadays the situation is different. Someone at the back of the bus shouts, “Driver, ah gon tek it hay!” and with screeching brakes, the minibus gives him/her ‘right deh.’  The drivers jostle each other for passengers. They pull up wherever the passenger flags them down, in blatant contravention of the law.Worst of all is the touts. These people are usually employed by conductors to entice passengers to specific buses. For their efforts, they receive a ‘small piece.’ So, at any given time, you can find yourself being hustled into a route 45 bus while your market basket is deposited into a route 40 vehicle, and your purse into a route 41 vehicle.These occurrences cause me to experience bouts of nostalgia, praying for a return to the old days when public transportation fell under the aegis of the Government and travelling was much more comfortable and less scary. I am not very old, but I distinctly remember when I was in school. I attended the Campbellville Primary, about three miles away from my Tucville home. My parents could not afford two bus fares per day, so most times I travelled on PF 2 (my two feet)Normally, I would walk through the Gardens, along a stretch of road of red loam. Sometimes, though, I would pay about 15 cents for a ride on the bus that travelled along Kitty Avenue, known as the ‘round the world.’ This bus would take me just in front of the Campbellville Primary School, and all I had to do was cross the pedestrian crossing, and bingo! I was in school.Signs were prominently displayed on the rear of the bus advising consumers to report errant drivers seen exceeding a specified limit. These signs have now been replaced by those emblazoned on minibuses that read, ‘Terrorist,Jerseys NFL Cheap,’ Trailer load ah girls,’ and ‘Bad man wagon.’ The other day I had a good laugh. A minibus had somehow ended up in the South Road canal. On its side were the words ‘Rolling on Chromes.’I have travelled to many industrialized countries — Canada, the United States of America and England, among others. I have had a first hand look at their transportation system. When I landed at the John Pearson International Airport in Canada, I walked to the Greyhound Bus Station, in close proximity to the airport.There, I boarded a bus that took me to Hamilton, about one hour away. When I disembarked at the Hamilton terminal, I hopped into a bus that took me to my final destination, a few miles away, with no additional charge.Once, while in England, I left the immigration section at the Gatwick Airport, bought a ticket that cost 3 pounds 50 pence, and hopped onto a train headed for South Harrow. I noticed that there was no one at the boarding entrance. Now, remember, I am a Guyanese. I thought how easy it would have been to save in on my three pounds. I could have ignored the ticket booth and just hopped on for a free ride. I received an explanation for this type of ‘trust’ two stations away. An inspector came on board and requested to see my pass. I was told that if I was unable to present it to him I would have been fined an on-the-spot fee of 100 pounds.The situation in Canada also struck me as fair. I boarded a bus on Parliament Avenue straight into the Castlefrank Subway. Instead of having to purchase another ticket, I found out that the fare paid on the bus facilitated my forward journey on the train. I also found out that as long as I stayed within the subway, I could have travelled in any direction without an additional charge.A similar arrangement existed on the buses. I remembered that while travelling to the Landsdown Boxing Gym I had forgotten a valuable piece of boxing gear. I was about to hop off the bus and retrace my steps when the driver gave me a transfer. Upon asking the reason for the document, I was informed that if I wanted to continue to Landsdown within an hour all I had to do was present the transfer to the bus driver and he was obligated to take me there without an additional charge. And then I returned to Guyana and the minibuses!Irrespective of how many minibuses we have in Guyana, it remains painfully obvious that, unless the Government reclaims the mandate to provide adequate transportation for its citizens, we will always be the victims of impromptu fare increases and planned strikes. The Government will say to the consumers, “Do not pay the increase!” The consumers will say to the minibus drivers, “We are instructed by the authorities not to pay the increase.”The minibus drivers, in collaboration with their association, will then retort, “Okay, walk to Berbice, or Linden, or Timehri.” Now, who do you think will come out the winner?I am not trying to denigrate this mode of transportation, but even a cursory glance will unveil the stunning truth that the ratio of accidents involving minibuses and the concomitant deaths is stunning, to say the least. There must be a logical explanation for this. Only empirical data can provide the answers. Therefore, I wish to challenge our social scientists to take up this challenge.  I await the results with bated breath. Meanwhile, the drivers of these vehicles will continue to race around, oblivious to the dangers before them, knowing fully well that, when they die, a place in heaven awaits them.