"Heeeee was ah good boyyyy"!!!!!!!!!!!
" Ohh G-G-God"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She screamed.
Janiquah, had tried the best she could to raise the children in the right way. Two boys and a baby girl who was 15 years younger than her second son.
Jacwon a.k.a four-five, 22 years old, 6ft 4inc, skin a dark shade of brown. Two thick gold chain, and a right hand with a fist full of rings. Lay dead in the track they call a road.
Fifteen bullets to his upper torso and fifty more to his head making his face unrecognizable.
Just another statistic of murder in an already tense society. Like many other young men before him.
Since 2003 with 229 murders, the highest ever to be recorded before in history. The rate just keeps climbing to new heights.
To date the rate of murder in La Trinity stands at 343 persons.
The eastern district of the country capital, referred to as an eyesore by the country men of this country.
This part of "town" leaves much to be desired, referred to in the early's as "shanty town. This urban housing project, a series of low income housing, built in close proximity to one another.
Then there are the Laventille hills another set of poorly built houses like sardine on top one another. The thing about this area is the terrain of narrow width tracks and roads are all connected.
Most of these homes are single parent homes mainly consisting of mothers.
Where are the fathers you may ask?
50% of these men are either incarcerated, while the other 50% is dead. Most of these families make up the largest percent of the races in this country, the African race.
The history of this community from the hills to the flats is one of despair. The inhabitants are a mixture of small Island people who came here in the 1920's when oil was discovered this the second largest island in the Caribbean chain.
All of them came for a better standard of living, as the jobs in the oil field did not only pay very well but they were a guarantee that the employment was sure.
Life here was great for them, the country was peaceful and serene.
Eighty three years later they must be turning in their graves, as their grand, great grand and great great grand are now at a full fledge war with one another.
Blood constantly flow in the streets of their communities.
The life they envisioned and worked so hard to achieve for there children is but a dream.
YOU ARE READING
We Grow Up With No Fadda
Non-FictionA generation of young men lost to violence Puerto De España . Due to crime and corruption a whole race is growing up fatherless. In small country, the percentage of African decent males. Who have died and are still dying daily to street violence...
