Kamla an trade unions just meet tuh discuss fallin oil prices. Accordin tuh mih sources dis happen before dat meetin. I could never make dis stuff up just so.

She look arong de now quiet room. Everybody mout was catchin flies.

“De trade unions,” Errol ask. Why? Dey eh like you . . . especially dat Ancil fella.”

She scan de room again. Heads was showin dey owners agreed wid de Minister ah Labor an Small an Micro Enterprise Development.

Cadiz jump up. “Doh fuhget de PSA head. De fella wid two first names.

“Watson Duke.”

“He self. Torkin like he could close all govahment orfices violatin OSHA.” Cadiz roll he eyes.

“What yuh studyin dat for,” Errol shout, snatchin he glasses orf he face, “you not de Labor Minister.”

“Errol, yuh torkin dotishness, yuh under stress. De Ministry ah Transport have govahment buildings wid Duke union people wukkin in dem.”

“What about all de people in my ministry?” Kevin Ramnarine, sittin at ah table be heself, had tears runnin dong he face. De whole table clort look wet. None ah de udder ministers was surprised tuh see de Minister ah Energy an Energy Affairs cry, after all he didn’t look like he was even born when Abu Bakr was surrenderin outside Triniland’s only television station back in 1990. All de ministers was sad.

Almost all.

“Doh fuhget murders drop in 2014 . . . de lowest rate in years.” It was ah voice full ah pride.

She look over tuh where de owner ah de voice was standin in ah corner facin de wall. On he head was ah tall pointy hat. “Not now Gary, not now,” she uttered, teet clenched.

She turn back an face de udder ministers. “So everybody agree dat in light ah dis crisis . . . “, she pause, . . . “It not ah crisis crisis, so nobody doh call it dat in public fuh mih please. It more like ah hiccough in de price ah oil. So everybody agree we should have ah meetin wid de trade unions tuh discuss de impact? Dey is stakeholders too an we done meet wid udder stakeholders.”

“I tink is ah excellent idea Madam Prime Minister. De country cyar afford ah drop in employment or ah cut in people salary, not at dis time.” 

She keep smilin as Fuad heaped praise. Kevin blow he nose.

“Errol?” She eyes grabbed de minister. “Yuh doh agree wid yuh fellow minister?”

“De Minister ah Health? Why he here again?”

Chairs start makin noises at de table where Dr. Fuad Khan was sittin dong. He was fightin tuh get up but udders wasn’t lettin him. Errol eh take he orn.

“I doh agree. Trade unions too volatile, I should know. Watch dem use dis meetin fuh dey own agenda. Especially de ones me an mih good friend identify.” He an Cadiz lock eyes. Cadiz was noddin in agreement buh he face was serious.

She put ah hand out face high. “Sorry Mr. Minister ah overrulin yuh.”

Errol shrug he shoulders.

“In fact, ah want de invitations tuh come from your ministry,” she continued.” Ah also want yuh tuh refer tuh de unions as stakeholders. Yuh agree wid callin dem dat?”

it was all Errol could do tuh lift he head an nod up an dong.

“Good. Leh we get movin on dis right away. Ah callin each trade union now tuh let dem know what we plannin. Ancil Roget first. Who have he number?

“I do.”

Heads jerk an necks crack as dey owners try tuh turn too quick tuh see Marlene. Marlene Coudray, de Minister ah Local Govahment.

“Is de number tuh dey headquarters. Ah had it from when ah was mayor.” She walk up tuh de podium an parse over de business card in she hand.

Kamla take it an start dialin. “Ah puttin him on speaker phone so everybody quiet.”

Dong south, ah phone start tuh ring at 99a Circular Road. It ring an ring before somebody shout out tuh nobody in particular.

“Ah comrade answer dat nah.”

Ah buxom woman who had tuh be wearin she skinny sister dress, try she best tuh reach de phone before it stop ringin. End de end she lunge at it an miss. It fall. She was puffin by de time de dress let she bend dong an pick it up an put it by she ears.

“Good night, OWTU main orfice,” she panted, suckin dong oxygen.

Back where Kamla was, one or two ministers cross de legs an put dey hands in dey laps at de sounds de voice on de udder end was makin.

“Good evening,” Kamla answer back. “Can I speak wid Ancil Roget?”

At de union headquarters de woman fuhget about oxygen one time. She straighten she back, narrow she eyes an frown.

“Yuh want tuh tork tuh Ancil or Comrade Roget?”

“Ancil Roget, de trade union head nah.”

De woman was still suspicious. “What your name is?”

“I am de Prime Minister.”

“Me eh want tuh know what yuh is, ah want tuh know who yuh is.”

“Listen Jean or Dinah, whichever one you is, put Ancil Roget on de phone.”

Coverin de mouthpiece, de woman yell. “Ancil? Phone. She say she is de Prime Minister.”

“Comrades, hold dis discussion on we demands, dis eh go take long.” De man pushin heself away from de table as he issued instructions had ah baldhead an was wearin glasses. He had ah space between he two front teet. He headed towards de woman holdin de phone.

“Kamla want tuh tork tuh me?”

“Me eh know she name. All she say is dat she is de Prime Minister.”

Minsters was fidgetin waitin tuh hear Ancil voice.

“Madam Prime Minister.”

De speakerphone vibrated.

“Good evenin Mr. Roget. How are you?”

“I am fine Madam Prime Minister.”

“I callin to let you an yuh trade union know dat my govahment, continuin de dialog wid stakeholders on de impact ah oil prices on de economy. Trade unions, ah key stakeholder is next. De formal invitation comin via de Minister ah Labor.”

There was ah pause den de speakerphone exploded.

“De OWTU, de most powerful trade union een Trinidad an Tobago go feel affronted an disrespected eef we get any letter signed by de Minister ah Labor on behalf ah de Prime Minister.”

“Callin we steak-holders is more disrespect. We is comrades.”

“But Mr. Roget . . .”

“De OWTU was puttin tuhgedder ah list ah demands when yuh call. Once yuh jokey govahment respond tuh dem we go tink about attendin any meetin. Dis larse minute ting allyuh doin eh fuh no purpose but tuh build allyuh image. Ent?”

“But Mr. Roget . . .”

“Besides, we eh comin tuh no meetin eef allyuh cyar treat we wid de utmost respect. Callin we steak-holders? Steups. Fix Petrotrin else we shuttin dong dis country! Good night Madame Prime Minister.”

Kamla was de onlyest one not exhalin hard.

“Look fuh de invitation in de mail. Good night Ancil.”

 She had ah sinister smile when she hang up. “Watson Duke next. Doh worry, I have he number.”