"Well wey you?"
I was looking back at my whatsapp, and those were the last three words I sent to Linda Straker a few weeks ago. Initially, after a few previous messages went unanswered, I just assumed she was somewhere out in the world—attending another course or seminar. But when subsequently I sent another message, I needed an urgent answer, and nothing, then came the "well wey you."
Called her phone -- ready to rant and rave -- and waiting for her mischievous laugh in response -- and still nothing. Until I was told she is not doing too well.
When the update came last week, we knew deep down -- even though still hoping for a miracle - that she is in her last days. But even when it happens -- the moment still hits you like a ton of bricks.
Like some things in life, you will always remember where you were when you heard the news - boarding a flight and getting that text from Rawle Titus. I watched it; watched it again, and then a third time -- and then did nothing. Just froze. It took me over 10 minutes just to acknowledge the message.
No one around us had a bigger appetite for research and advocacy; for tracking down stories with meaning and consequence; for listening to every sitting of parliament and finding interesting stories that many of us might have missed. No one challenged me more at 6 oclock in the morning with a "Well Mark..why you dont" kind of call, or with some story she is working on, seeking clarity on a few things.
Many times, referencing something published in the Government Gazette that needed watching, follow-through, etc. I used to quiz, "Girl, it still has that?" or sometimes "I tell you alone reading that thing."
I did an overnight Linda Straker search on facebook, and while we knew it in real time, it sort of cemented it starkly, of how much, unfairly, she was taken on and in many times viciously and unfairly challenged and even attacked, mostly by political actors, who had a difficult time dealing with truth and real, researched journalism.
And while we spoke a million times privately about it, I was just wondering if we didn't fail her somehow by not publicly helping her deal with some of it. But I can hear her, "Mark me aint bothering with that, you know."
I never made it to her place in St. John's - always saying you were up that side and "aint pass my me." I used to joke, "girl you living too far from Munich" and "you want your man and them to kidnap me or what?" with which she would often respond with that laugh of hers
We used to engage in banter and old talk and share some lewd jokes -- many of them unpublishable. But every now and then had those very intellectual debates about sometimes random things.
I first became aware of Linda Straker at Grenadian Voice - when, even though I was no longer in full-time at the newspaper, I went in every now and then at Mr Leslie Pierre's request to give some editorial help. I remember a couple of initial pieces, then I had to ask Mr Pierre, " who is this?" and quipping after reading them, "she look has some promise."
Promise kept!
I have never understood death -- and I have given up trying a long time. Sometimes I just resort to asking myself what the point of life is, and I am sure Nicole Best and others will have some theological point, that I will completely miss again.
In our profession, we need to provide answers. But sometimes we fail. Sometimes we ask questions we dont even understand. Maybe that is the point of the question -- to be both confused and amazed at the same time.
What was the question again Linda?
Here is my answer -- if it doesn't lead to another question - you did good, so now walk good!
"So wey you dey?"
A much better place - no more pain; no more suffering. And they can't hound you again!
