Three desalination plant. Three! Allyuh hear that? Government say they buildin’ three. South go finally have water from the sea. Pure salt water, pure science, pure progress.
Now, Auntie ain’t a engineer. But Auntie know one thing: yuh cyah build a plant in a week. Yuh cyah build a plant in a month. Yuh cyah build a plant in a year. By the time the third plant catch breeze, mih grandson go be voting.
So in the meantime, what we drinkin’? The truck come Tuesday. Sometimes. If the road good. If the driver come. If the tank ain’t dry already from Monday.
Now the people in the deep south — sensible people, mind you — they say: “Look, while allyuh ordering this big-time desalination, why allyuh ain’t usin’ the catchment pond right there in the back of the village?” Catchment pond. Free. Already full when it rain. Just need a little desilting, a little piping, a little common sense.
And what the Ministry say? Nothing yet. They busy desilting for flood season. Which is good. Real good. But Auntie wonder if while the JCB digging out one drain, maybe — just maybe — it could dig out one catchment pond too. Same machine, same fuel, same Tuesday morning.
Three plant comin’. Catchment pond sitting right there. Truck comin’ Tuesday. Auntie fetching her bucket.
Auntie Cheryl is a satirical voice column. Views expressed are dramatic exaggerations for comedic effect.