For the last 13 years, I have been commuting to Port of Spain from the rural community of Biche, in order to get to work. My journey begins at 4.30 a.m. every weekday by taxi. As happy as I am to have a job, the journey along the Biche Road (Cunapo Southern Road) is a very trying and arduous one.
The road has actually become littered with potholes due to a lack of maintenance. The taxi-driver who takes me to my first stop in Sangre Grande cannot even manoeuvre the many craters along the way. Instead, he has to choose which one of the giant indentations he has to let his car fall into in an attempt to navigate his way along the road.
In some instances, the condition of the road is so atrocious that it seems as though the car is climbing stairs rather than driving on a road. Is it that the people of Biche have to resort to long-distance running and rock climbing in order to commute in and out of the area?
I am a simple individual, begging for the basic needs of the people of Biche to be met. At least the most deplorable areas of the road can be fixed, in an effort to alleviate the discomfort associated with the daily commute of the many people who not only need to get to work but who need to seek medical care, shop for groceries and other amenities, and go to school.
I often ask myself if those representing the people of Biche actually see or even feel the agony of this journey. The voice of representation is neither being spoken nor heard. Perhaps their voices have been lost in the wilderness as they journey through the forest along the Biche road.