Wednesday, August 26, 2026

SDGCK. Cooperation.

 


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Kamen Rico, Oliver and Dodger. August 18th, 2026. The air in the London workhouse was heavy with the smell of wet hemp and stale porridge. Kamen Rico, newly arrived off the banana boat alongside Alfred Dodger, sat on a bench with the other children, his small hands working mechanically through the twists of heavy rope. They learned bowlines and clove hitches under the eye of the taskmaster, their hands raw, their pants stiff with coarse fabric. When the lanterns were turned low, the room swelled with the soft, mismatched voices of children clinging to home, singing Amazing Grace and How Great Thou Art into the shadows as they waited for their assignments. They Also Sung Ring Around the Rosies. American Version Ring around the rosie, A pocket full of posies, Ashes! Ashes! (or Ashes, ashes) We all fall down! [1, 2] British Version Ring-a-ring o' roses, A pocket full of posies, A-tishoo! A-tishoo! (representing a sneeze) We all fall down! [1] Indian Version Ringa ringa roses, Pocket full of posies, Husha busha! We all fall down! It was there Kamen witnessed Oliver’s abrupt departure—dragged away through the heavy oak doors for the unpardonable sin of asking for another ladle of food. Soon after, the children were dispatched one by one into the foggy city, assigned to families across the countryside. Kamen’s turn came on a rainy Tuesday. He was sent to a grand farm outside the city owned by a candy factory proprietor—a man married to a quiet, rigid woman named Janey Austin. Kamen’s place was not at the candy counters, but in the main house, assisting the lady of the kitchen, a warm-hearted Trinidadian woman whose presence made the cold English estate feel a little less foreign. While Kamen spent his mornings polishing brass, sweeping oak floors, and listening to the cook mutter longing thoughts about hot doubles wrapped in paper back home, his freedom ended at dusk. At five o'clock sharp, he was sent to the small, dark closet at the edge of the dining room. Through the narrow crack in the door or the key hole, Kamen watched the family gather around the heavy mahogany table. He sat on the floor, listening to the clink of silverware, watching the father carve roast meat, and longing simply to sit in the warmth of the room—to be seen, to be included, to exist beyond the shadows of the closet. The Trinidadian lady named Gadbrotababimahtah held him close to her bosom and said"...don't worry my son. It is best to be thankful." The chimney sweep came in for his bread and soup and also a kiss but Gadbrotababimahtah pushed him away because of the smoke on him. She hated the smoke but she loved his big brown nose and he whistled a lot. She pretended this was her husband but this was her brother. Kamen had a brown nose too. The Master had the same hair texture as Kamen. His nose was Brown also. He went to the closet as usual after 5 pm and the door was locked. He was there to watch and study. They said prayers and ate. He watched. This one night, the man's 20 year old daughter came to the closet door that was painted in "Family Yellow ", the same colour of the barn outside and said to him, " it is best to be thankful. Life cannot be so easy. Could it be? It is best to be thankful." She left her scraps from her plate at the door. CLICK HERE. The cook knew the weight of that loneliness. The next morning, as she boiled water for the morning tea, Kamen watched her closely. She dropped one white sugar cube into her cup. Then, with a swift, practiced motion, she slipped a second cube into a tiny leather satchel, carefully hiding it beneath her apron. She turned, caught Kamen watching, and offered a soft, knowing smile. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a second sugar cube, and pressed it quietly into his palm. The Trinidadian lady held Kamen close, her apron smelling of clove and scorched sugar. "Don't worry, my son," she whispered softly into his hair. "It is best to be thankful. You will learn. Read the master's desk." There was a note as follows on a copy of "Fur Elise" as follows; "If you are happy a good hunter and your baby is good and you do not cut your hair, then a complete sentence has a subject and a predicate as you see in this sentence that follows; I woke up this morning to the tune of the rising sun and three little iguanas with 3 foxes were on my door step. The second example is as follows: The boy ran away to his people in the Rodesia. In the first example, the subject is "I". The predicate is "woke up etc." In the next example, the subject is "The boy". The predicate is "ran etc". He read his desk and saw this bible verse about Potiphar and his wife who was weird in the house. There was this note beside the chapter; Prov. 2,5,6,7,9,11 and 12. If this is so in the ancient world, then we have to be careful. What if she was a racist coffee coloured super curly haired lady trying to sack the guy because he was brown and nothing else and what if she did this to a white guy too because he was white? Racism is an agenda but not necessarily a White vs. Black agenda.

             Kamen Rico, Oliver and Dodger.  August 18th, 2026. The air in the London workhouse was heavy with the smell of wet hemp and sta...