South Africa: October, 2009
“A search for opportunity” by (Kristen Faith Konkol)

To view with pictures, go to: http://briankristenkonkol.blogspot.com

She looks up from the washing and rests her weary hands on top of the bucket to see where all the sound is coming from. As she walks out beyond the gate and down the path to the small patch of red dirt the sounds become louder and more familiar. When she reaches the area where the sounds were emanating from, she steps forward with uncertainty to the small group gathered. As her calloused and tiny bare feet come into the circle, all eyes are upon her. The sounds she heard were familiar ones…those of the neighborhood boys playing and kicking around a make-shift soccer ball in one of any number of informal spaces in the area. But when she approaches, she is met with many looks of displeasure, restlessness and discontent. The cackling and sighs under their breath make their feelings transparent. The “ball” rolls to her feet, and with one touch she unlocks a palpable sense of vigor and excitement. Small posts made of sticks and old bottles are put on either side of this makeshift (garage-sized) space and the competition begins. Although the first days and weeks of ‘toeing the line’ to be just ‘one of the gang’ [who used every spare moment to play] were brutal and sometimes defeating, she remained persistent, focused and simply tried not to screw up and hear the demoralizing criticisms with arms raised in her direction. She is eager to hold on to this rare opportunity.

Born in a rural area of KwaZulu-Natal (at the time simply Natal ), she was already faced with challenges that continued to test her and try to keep her down. As one of 6 children born to her mother and father, her life was quickly turned upside-down. With her father out of the picture from the beginning, she then faced an uphill battle as her mother died before she had reached two years of age. She and her siblings were then taken to an aunt in the Edendale Valley (just outside of Pietermaritzburg), where she still lives today. At the age of 5, she spent nearly a year of her life in the hospital fighting pneumonia for which they were told to plan a funeral. Today, her father, brothers and one sister have perished at very young ages (most presumably from HIV/AIDS) and one of her two remaining sisters is currently battling serious ill health. Her immediate family is all but gone. But it was from her father that she said that God placed this love and gift into her body…the physical gifts, love and passion to play the game of soccer. She knew she had to create that opportunity to shine.

Growing up in the Edendale Valley , she took advantage of any opportunity to play soccer. But as like many places in the world, opportunities for young women and girls to play sports (especially those “traditionally” for boys) was limited and she knew every time she got the chance to step out and compete with the boys that she had to prove herself. But she always asked herself, why? Why do people not want me to play? Why are there no girl’s teams? Why do they (the boys) get all the opportunities? As she got older, she heard that there were some girl’s teams in the country, but had no idea or resources to participate. It wasn’t until she was playing with a boy’s team that she was “seen” by someone in SAFA (South African Football Association) who had contacts with the likes of female teams. As her aunt had no phone and no way of really reaching her outside of finding the school she attended, she was a relative unknown. Her talent was not taken advantage of for lack of opportunity, exposure and ability to locate her. Then the call came in to the school…

Bayana Bayana (the female national soccer team) called her to come and train at a camp and play some matches with them when she was 15 and 16 years old. It was not long before that she was given her first pair of soccer shoes.  To put on the national uniform in the relatively new democratic country was an amazing feeling for her and opportunities she says she will never forget. Although the experiences were meaningful, she wondered what was next in store for her career, as there still remained relatively few opportunities for females to play in the area. ‘Here I was playing for Bayana Bayana and now I come home and it’s back to playing with the guys.’ Although she admits that playing with males helped her with her skill, speed and toughness, she always wanted the opportunity to compete with and against other females.

It wasn’t until the early 2000’s that an organized league for females in the area was available. She has been playing on this team ( Maritzburg City ) since its inception and feels very happy that it was created. Although, she says, that part of her always wishes that these opportunities came earlier in her life as opposed to the latter stages of her career. Above all, she remains determined to create and encourage opportunities for female players today that she herself did not experience.

She remains with the local women’s team, and continues to play at a very high level, although the gray hairs on her low cut style are apparent. She spends many a weekend working with and coaching the next generation of female players and continues to assist SAFA with scouting of female players around the region. Her goal is to provide the opportunities and encouragement for young girls that she always yearned for. Although the days of females getting kicked off the soccer pitch by male teams and being scoffed at when arriving to play against male or female teams still happens (and did while I was there), strides are slowly being made.

It has been my privilege and joy to be able to call the person in this story my friend. We have not only played together in practices and games, but coached young girls alongside one another from all over the surrounding areas. Walking alongside and accompanying one another in mutual respect we have learned so much about not only each other but also about one another’s country, language and culture. Above all, the passion that we share is for women and girls to have the opportunity to compete, participate and enjoy the gift of games and sport…no matter what sport that is or where in the world that female may be!

With peace and blessings,

– Kristen Konkol

A great story from a brilliant writer.  Kristen Konkol is a rising  scintillating  star in the field of  journalism  and honest reporting.   We look forward to her first bestseller.

Randall.

Xmas Festivities at Buxton -1948

Vivid Recollections of the Xmas Festivities at Buxton –

By “BUXTONIAN” –  December 30, 1948

PEACE and quietness can truly be said to have reigned all through the festive season so far as Buxton was concerned but there was not an absence of jollity, mirth and pleasure among the populace, but whenever manifestation they made of them was very much tempered and modified.  A walk around on Christmas day revealed that there was not made that kind of elaborate preparation which was a marked feature of old time Christmases. In times gone by there was always something to greet the eye, for even the humblest cottager did not neglect to show by his drapery over her cottage door and new or fancy blinds on the windows,  if balloons could not have been procured to give taste to the kind of decoration made, that it was Christmas – a season that must be given a kind of special welcome.

NO DRUM BEATING

There was no drum beating, nor was there any street singing of wild songs with the usual accompanying gesticulations to disturb the stillness which prevailed throughout the day.  It was Christmas Eve night that merriment made itself felt. As soon as the evening shades appeared the singing of Christmas Carols by various groups of young men and young women began; and they continued all through the night.  This particular feature was unprecedented and the zest and excellence with which it was all done were commendable.

CHOIR IN GOOD FORM

The Catholics as has been the age long custom had their Midnight Mass and the little church of St. Anthony was as usual, brilliantly illuminated.  There was the accustomed procession to the manger, but there was no profusion of gifts. The invitation to visit the Crib was given in the usual way by the singing of “Come! Come! Come to the Manger, children! Come to the children’s king”, which the choir beautifully rendered.  The midnight Mass was followed by two others masses at daybreak.  The Anglican, the Methodist, the Congregationalist, the Church of God, each had its own service after daybreak to celebrate the Christmas, and each congregation joined heartily in the singing of some of the hymns specially written to tell of the birth of the Saviour of Mankind.

CHRISTMAS SUNDAY

On this day which in former years was always the grayest of the season when the young folks of both sexes endeavour to vie one with the other in their Christmas Sunday Garb, there was, not in evidence much to attract attention of the observer.

There was much sobering down of any display in apparel as there was in public festivities. the usual crop of christenings followed by “Candles” was there and there were several unions of hearts and hands of young man and maidens; and one clergy man was heard to remark at marriage feast that he had his hands full and was kept busy nearly all day long baptizing, preaching giving communion, and marrying; and it was his good fortune not to be called upon to do any burying.

SACRED CONCERT

At Arundel Church a sacred Concert was staged in the afternoon, but the many attractions in other directions robbed it of the attendance it deserved.  The items on the programme were all splendidly rendered and told of the energy and time that must have been expended in its preparation.

ON WITH THE DANCE

MONDAY was officially observed as Boxing Day and the sport-loving and holiday-merrymaking homesters and friends and acquaintances from abroad had a day all to themselves to indulge in their particular tastes and fancies at the picnics and dances that were promoted.  These were held at the Tipperary Hall, the Congregational Schoolroom, and the ideal Recreation Club Bungalow.  During the day as well as the night there was a jam session and patrons just let themselves go in the latest in jiving.  Oh! how their hearts were light; how they danced and jived, though moon and stars were not shining bright, the while the bells of the orchestra went tinkle-ting.

Source: Covering the Country Districts – the Daily Chronicle – Thursday, December 30, 1948: Page 6.

Is your worrying holding you back?

Once film negatives are exposed to the
light of day, they’re ruined.

In the same way, once you see your worries for what
they are–self-inflicted doubts–their power disappears.
If you give your doubts and fears too much development time,
they’ll take hold and start to color all of your thinking in a negative light.

Pessimists have more health problems, are less productive,
and are generally unhappier than optimists.
People that don’t worry as much spend more time coping with
the realities of life and less time occupied with would-be problems.

To get rid of worry, think more confidently.
Know that you can handle anything that comes along.
Know that with loss comes opportunity.
Know that things generally have a way of working out.

Stay out of that dark room and picture something better.
Worry is the darkroom in which negatives are developed.

- Church billboard in Colorado

Gems from Madhuban

• If we are impressed with anyone, our capacity to create finishes.  We will not have our own ideas.  If others are in our hearts, we will forget ourselves.
• If there is attachment or we are impressed, then we are not clean.
• When our third eye is open, we are saved from being deceived by our physical eyes.
• When we make our stage like the sun that is constantly shining, without discrimination we are able to serve others at any time and all the time.
• Our stage is not created and our minds are not clean when our wealth is not used in a worthwhile way.
• God is Truth, but we have to make ourselves truthful in order to be part of His Truth.
• A clean heart is always safe.
• Watch the drama, but don’t be part of it.
• Other people’s body conscious drishti is not helpful to us.
• When we are obedient to God, He will be obedient to us.
• Only soul consciousness is the solution in any situation.
• Teach yourself to be peaceful.
• Actions reveal our intentions and motives, more than words.
• Value each other’s specialities so that you learn to value each other.
• It is our purity that makes things happen, not what we do.
• Silence cannot work without knowledge
• Value others or they will avoid service.
• Even if others don’t value you, don’t let go of your fortune.

IS IT ME?

We have this old saying: “time changes”.
To me, time is an abstract, … a constant that measures history in its passage, which helps man to put events, ideas, mundane activities, etc., in a sort of orderly fashion: it enables us to associate happenings with perspective, era, or place.   Man has developed by evolution, over millions of years and to us time is timeless and without end into eternity.

We humans always seem to be on the defensive and make-believe that “time changes.” Or maybe we mean “times change”.   Well, I keep wondering if it is me who has failed to change or conform to today’s norms, or, since “time changes” I am now held accountable for my failure to adjust accordingly to the “new times”.   To me, the norms I grew up with were better but now I live in a world where rudeness and disorder is the norm.

For instance, when growing up, I had to go by the adage “silence is golden,” or be ostracized.   In any public place – a post-office, bank, doctor’s office, lobbies, etc, it was expected and in some cases demanded to be polite, and speak softly when called upon to do so.   Today, rudeness is in fashion, and almost everyone:  young, old, male, female: all seem to act as if they were born with cell phones stuck in their ears, incessantly babbling, and inconsiderate of others.

I remember when reading was required and was the order of the day.   Now I see signs in post offices asking that customers refrain from using cell phones, and guess what?  One can hear their loud cell phone conversations from one end of the building to the other, paying no attention to the posted signs.   Sometimes I try to read in doctors’ offices and other waiting rooms, but this is difficult when bombarded by loudmouthed individuals.

As a kid, when I ran out of books I read labels on packages and cans, advertisements and anything legible.   My classmates and I played games in school finding cities of distant countries listed in the atlas, and looking up strange words in the Oxford Dictionary.   Nowadays, in contrast, I see parents assisting children in video and cyberspace, games in offices and waiting rooms. No more reading of books or in pursuit of good literature.   At home the children live on Facebook, the Internet, cell phones, or again in cyberspace.

No wonder President Obama wants to bring U.S students up to par with the more educationally advanced students of other countries.   Good luck Sir!   American youngsters can tell much about baseball and football stars, American idol, Yankee pitchers, Deco Drive and Dancing with the Stars.  Ask them about Socrates or Plato, Shakespeare or Dickens, Longfellow or Samuel Clemens and they will ask:  “what planet are you from”?

For instance, a High School senior could not add 50+15+35 cents for purchases that he made. He threw out a couple of dollars in coins and asked the cashier if it were enough for his items; other senior students could not locate the capital of England on a map.   A college student asked his professor for permission to use “The Godfather” to do a book report.  I could not make any of this up.  The ignorance of the typical so-called “educated” American is amazing.

I had to say please and thank you and still do.   My playtime was real sports or physical games, not shooting men or fighting wars in video games.   We had to be accountable to our guardians for our whereabouts at all times, and smoking and drinking for pre-teens and teenagers were taboo, until age eighteen or better.  Somewhere along the way society lost control, good manners and etiquette were out the back door.   Parents or guardians are solely responsible, NOT TEACHERS.

When children beget children, and BBC boasts about the world’s   youngest father, age twelve, in England, with a fifteen year old girl being the mother,  and feature men with their underwear hanging out almost fully, it’s time to say “beam me up Scotty.”   Society is so hypocritical that they address the underwear issue as “droopy pants.”   It is a disgusting, shameless, and quite unhygienic problem. Quit the “droopy pants” nonsense, and describe it for what it is: indecency verging on lewdness.   We use deceitful words in order to avoid confrontation, so the rot continues.

Motorists, trying to make right turns, cut me off on the road, I look around, and there is not a single vehicle behind me for about a quarter of a mile.   I believe the same ones, instead of stopping short of the pedestrian crossing line, go right over, leaving no safe path for pedestrians. They see red lights and mistake them for green, and some tailgate so badly it seems as if they are sitting on your back seat.   All right, all right, it’s just me bellyaching. I know it is my entire fault for not following the new norms, and sidestepping mores, “it is me!”

In his classic, “The Stranger” (L’ Etranger,) Albert Camus states that society deems any man a criminal, who does not cry at his mother’s funeral. Yes, it’s me. And I did not cry at my mother’s funeral: ……  I was too young.

- Patanjali Ramlall – Guest Contributor

Searching For An Answer

I’ve traveled this world far and wide
Seeking something I thought I could find
Loneliness, solitary companion by my side
I had hopes for answers to things on my mind

O’er the mountains and through deep valleys
Beneath sparkling fountains and in dark alleys
My weary feet have had to toil
As I traversed this earth’s soil
Searching for a reason to live, a hope for tomorrow
A world without sorrow

But more I traveled more I marveled
At a world full of cruelty
At man’s inhumanity

As I look around me
All I can see
Are men yearning to be free
More questions than answers
Violence and pollution
Problems beyond solution
A world full of sin
The world I’m living in

Yet will I trudge on
From dawn till sunset
From sunset till morn
Till I find what I seek
A reason to live
Comfort for the meek
Someone to forgive

“Fore my life comes to an end
There’s something I must find
So I can tell you, my friend
Answers to things on my mind
In a world of futility
A world full of cruelty

Poem By Miles Alex

Sickness and disease are caused, not only by what we eat or how we eat, or by lack of exercise and adequate rest, though these contribute a great deal, but also to the negative emotions  like hate, anger, malice jealousy, bitterness and the like.

There is an Indian saying which goes:  “HASAD  KEE  AAG  BADAN  KO  JALAATAA  HAI  JAISE AAG  LAKREE  KA”.   This translates to mean:  “The fire of malice consumes the body in the same way as fire consumes wood”.   That may seem an exaggeration, but negative emotions do not only harm you physically,  but they warp the wind and corrupt the morals.  Hate  too, corrodes the vessel that contains it and also disfigures the object on which it is poured.

Nothing is better medicine than cheerfulness, laughter, thankfulness, content, loving service and prayer from the heart.  Carrying guilt too,  is harmful; we can never undo what is done already.  Confess, repent and ask forgiveness and move forward with a clear conscience;  for though you may carry the scar of your past,  the wound is healed.   God, who is of the present, will know you as you are, and not what you were.   It is fallible man who digs into your past to condemn you for what you are not.

Temperance too, is good medicine.  So get wise, get in good company without which  you can never acquire discrimination, and think loftily at all times.  It was Sir Philip Sydney, that compassionate soul who said:  “He is never alone who is accompanied with noble thoughts”.

To sumarise: Health is Simple living and Lofty thinking.

- Randall Butisingh.

Dear viewers,

I am requesting information for one of my chief promoters.  I sent him an e-mail a few weeks ago but did not get any reply.  He is Eric Shackle, a reporter and journalist of world wide recognition who lives in Australia.   He, like myself is  old, ninety plus years, which is the reason I am so very much concerned about his silence.

There may be some one in Australia, or elsewhere,  who knows him and who may be visiting my Weblog;  please, I will be very grateful if you could give me the information I need.

Awaiting, with high anticipation an answer.

Randall Butisingh.

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REPLY FROM ERIC SHACKLE

From: eshackle@ozemail.com.au
To: randallbutisingh@hotmail.com
Subject: Here I am
Date: Fri, 23 Oct 2009 17:19:04 +1000

MY MESSAGE ON THE SECOND ANNIVERSARY OF MY WEBLOG

October 21, 2009.

Today marks the second anniversary of the inauguration of my Weblog on October 21, 2007.   I wish to thank all those, my editors, contributors and technical advisers, the sources from which I got inspiration, my interviewers, and you, my viewers from all over the world, of every language and clime; without whose inputs my Weblog could not have earned the success it has.   Recently, the Blog won the Graypow Award for distinguished blogging by an over 80 blogger. It is confirmed that I am now the oldest person running a Blog, and I am also the oldest person with an operating Facebook account.

The Weblog has been endeavouring all along to post meaningful content. As the philosopher White puts it; “The best test of any writing is its serviceableness for the moral and spiritual needs of men”.

I have tried by exhortation and example to teach values like perseverance, compassion, service, care for the environment, friendship, unity, love and most of all; it is never too late to learn.

In less than two months, I will have reached my 97^th year of my sojourn here on Mother Earth.  I have not as one of my erudite colleague told me of himself; “I have gone into complete retirement”.  I believe that once you have life and can think, you need not spend the remainder of the winter of your years in hibernation, but with the experiences you have garnered. Live a twilight of usefulness.

My final engagement before my anniversary is to record the reminiscences of my life which I had prepared some time ago, and which with the help of my editor and technical advisers, I am now happy to record.

I may or may not live to see another anniversary.  On my last visit to the doctor, I was diagnosed as having a weak heart and will need a pacer, but I have decided against using it.   I feel as good as ever.   So with the limited time at my disposal, I have to live today as if it was my last, but work as if I will live forever.

I wish you all, my dear viewers, fulfillment and happy blogging.

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COMMENT from Cyril Bryan:

Today marks the second anniversary of this blog which had its first entry on October 21, 2009.  On our first anniversary we talked about how the Weblog was started and how we had achieved so much in such a short time.  I am truly glad that I am one of the persons responsible in helping “Teacher Randall” (T.R.) to start his blog with my technical support, and the selection of some entries with my comments as a “Guest Contributor” over the last two years.

He has said that my support has encouraged him to be even more dynamic with his Weblog inputs and comments, and has made him new friends, and connected him with past colleagues, students and friends around the world.  It is a pleasure that I was able to do this for a man whose world vision is similar to mine, especially in regard to the “Indivisibility of Mankind”, and the belief in “Lifelong Learning”.

This second year has passed quite quickly and the popularity of the Weblog has grown.  To date we have had almost 64,000 viewers to some 610 entries which include news items, videos and articles of interest, historical articles and pictures of Guyana, articles from various contributors, philosophy, psychology, education, and of course the articles, poetry and the many comments from Randall Butisingh to the content of the Blog and his correspondence with readers.

This month Teacher Randall begun to publish: “My Story” – The Reminiscences of Randall Butisingh since 1913.  This is a truly gripping tale of a man living for over nine decades in a changing world, battling poverty, battling the integration process of different cultures; being accepted for who he is; and being able to fully actualize the reason for his sojourn here on Earth.  Life in the early 1900’s was drastically different from life today, but T.R. battled on searching for meaning; searching for relevance; searching for his inner abilities that could transform others through his teaching; searching for inner security and his actualization through his poetry, religious studies and firm beliefs in personal education and lifelong learning. I am sure that everyone would find his story an interesting one.

I think that this Weblog has served a great purpose for many others as it has awakened many, especially older people to the fact that being “old” does not mean being discarded to the dustbin of history.  T.R. has told me that he gets correspondence from all over the world from people who are proud of what he is doing and who are emulating his strong beliefs of lifelong learning.   Even I was surprised when he told me recently that he had joined FACEBOOK, the social networking site, and invited me to be his friend on that site. He is now not only the “World’s Oldest Blogger” but most likely the oldest FACEBOOK member. Congratulations Teacher Randall!

We do hope that Teacher Randall continues with his good work for us all in the coming year and for many years to come.

Happy Weblog Anniversary Teacher Randall!

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TRIBUTE by Patanjali Ramlall – Guest Contributor

It is with pleasure and wonderment that I dedicate this tribute to Guruji Randall Butisingh.

My earliest memories of Guruji go back to 1956, when I was in 1^st standard at Lusignan Anglican School, now Lusignan Government, East Coast Demerara, British Guiana, now Guyana. I often read the proverbs that he posted on the wall, behind my class, three of which were:

LEARNING IS BETTER THAN SILVER AND GOLD; SILENCE IS GOLDEN; and CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO GODLINESS.

He practiced and lived them all. He was always the consummate teacher and guide, never causing pupils to be scared of him, teaching in a compassionate manner, going that extra ten miles, e.g. Gardening, Art, Poems, etc. I never heard him lift his voice to any student, and some of his words were in the colloquial manner of the day, trying to accommodate his young charges who were then trying to grapple with Standard English; and he had a knack for doing the right thing without pretense or offense. All of these qualities he not only lived, but continued to improve on them visibly and by hard work over the years.

He continues to be a guide, teacher, a poet, philosopher, always in the pursuit of knowledge – in art, music, language(s), comparative religion, etc. Most of all, to continue to impart his life’s knowledge and share his wisdom with us is quite an accomplishment in his 98^th year.

He was my Headmaster when I passed the School Leaving examination and left school at age thirteen in 1962.  Never could I, at that time have dreamt that he would continue to be my teacher and that we would have this avuncular relationship, now at my age 60. First: he was my teacher, then Headmaster, friend, philosopher, historian, poet, and now I am a guest contributor on his blog.

While I was on a Shrimping trawler off the coast of South America, (Brasil, French Guiana, Surinam, to name a few), from age 15 to 22, I never thought that I could touch base with this humble man again, and that I would be privileged to have him at my home as an honoured guest. His blog has greatly enlightened me and improved my awareness of life and the world. I gained a lot from his tireless writings and insight, and I wish him good health and strength to continue his great work for as long as possible.

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Tribute by CYRIL A. SARJOO, former teacher at Lusignan Primary School -

I have known Teacher Randall since the 1950’s. Now he is the world’s most senior blogger and  I wish to congratulate him on the 2nd anniversary of his weblog.

I am proud that he is a Guyanese and I am honored to have known and worked with him.

I have been reading his weblog and made a few contributions.

He has accomplished quite a lot academically and spiritually.

His spiritual revelations and his relationship with and his obedience to God have caused God to bless him and keep him alive to this golden age of 98 years.

His philosophy of life as evinced in his poetry and blog is very inspiring.

His many and varied accomplishments have earned him several international and local honors and awards and even a painting by a renowned Indian artist.

I wish him all the best and pray that Almighty God will continue to bless him with good health and spiritual strength.

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Tribute by Lyndon Barton

Dear Teacher Randall,

CONGRATULATIONS! on the 2nd anniversary of your weblog, and best wishes for your continued success.

As one of the readers and occasional contributor to this weblog, I am happy to see the way it has evolved to become a unique global forum that not only shines a positive light on our homeland GUYANA and the Guyanese culture, but also one that affords readers the world over a rare opportunity to gain valuable insights into your longevity and philosophy of life, which you so willingly share though your poems, thoughts for the day, inspirational messages, personal interviews, and recent book “My Story.”

For all this, I, personally, feel privileged and proud to be your former pupil, then a colleague, and now a friend.

Keep up the good work!

Lyndon

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Tribute by Rampersaud Tiwari.

Randall Butisingh will be 97 on December 1, 2009. He is the world’s oldest Blogger and probably the oldest Buxtonian alive. He was and still is a teacher, educator, writer, poet, artist, Hindi scholar and iconic community leader. I am now in my 77th year, and I am privileged to have known him since my early childhood years in our native Buxton Village on the East Coast of Demerara in Guyana, South America.

This tribute on the 2nd Anniversary of Randall Butisingh’s Web Blog is to me a kind of celebration of his achievements and his contributions during a long and useful life. At this distance in time, I can only dimly imagine the struggles, sacrifices and efforts he must have made in his journey in life.  As I reflect on his life, I remember hearing a Hindu Vedic recitation of “a Light that shines beyond all things on earth and beyond the highest, the very highest of the heavens. This is the Light that shines in the Heart” – taken from the Chandogya Upanishad; and which in my view epitomizes the spiritual qualities that helped to shape the human values that shine in his heart.

Randall’s parents were part of a small number of indentured Indian immigrants who had completed their terms of indenture or had been expelled from the neighboring sugar estates who settled in Buxton in the closing years of the 19^th century. Randall’s father was a Koker Attendant in the village.  With good schooling as the objective for their children, Randall’s parents encouraged him to pursue his studies at school with dedication and diligence at a time when many East Indian children of school age, for historical and economic reasons, were unable or refused to attend school and get an education. From the time Randall started his primary schooling, he was a student who tried to achieve his best although he was not one of the brightest students.

The defining moment in Randall’s scholastic career arrived in 1925, when at 12 years old, he secured 62% of the marks in the examination for the Buxton Scholarship. The other successful candidates were Ballbir Ballgreeme Nehaul with 80%, who later became a medical doctor, and Claude Holder with 61%. The Scholarship was awarded to Ballgreeme Nehaul, who became the first Buxton scholarship winner.  However, Randall Butisingh’s 62% could have secured his placement in the prestigious Queen’s College, but this was not to be, as his parents could not afford the expenses for him to do so.

This missed opportunity did not prevent Randall from becoming a Teacher and serving at all relevant levels leading ultimately to Acting Headmaster, the status from which he retired the Guyana Teaching Service in 1972. A significant feature of his career was his mastery of the Hindi language which was a subject in the national examinations for teachers in the colony. In later years, he helped to promote the teaching of Hindi in extra mural classes at the University of Guyana (UG) through the good offices of the Indian High Commission in Guyana, the Indian Council for Cultural Relations (ICCR) and the Hindi Prachar Sabha of which he was a founding member.

Randall Butisingh was also a founding member of the Indian National Congress of Buxton. Patterned after the Indian National Congress of undivided India, the Buxton Congress was established in 1946. The objectives of the Buxton Congress were to promote strong bonding feelings of communal harmony and nationalism in Guyana and to persuade the British to “QUIT BG” since the country was then a colony of the United Kingdom.

“APADANA SOBHINI PANNA” – WISDOM BEAUTIFIES CHARACTER: from Buddhist Pali.

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Tribute from Miles A. Hintzen

Congratulations, sir, on the second anniversary of your blog.  Kudos also to the associates – editors, technicians, and others – who have helped you launch and maintain this wonderful and scintillating site on the internet.

It was only earlier this year, on my own personal journey to trace the roots of my biological father, that I stumbled on your Weblog.   Since then I count myself blessed for this fortuitous accident which has now transformed me from a man on a genealogical expedition to a servant of God on that most meaningful of all journeys – the travel along life’s highways in search of the true meaning of life and its purpose beyond the realm of physical being.

Sir, your pieces have helped me along and have added tremendously to my understanding the real destiny of man and woman on this earth and in the hereafter.  The short time that I have had the pleasure of your distinguished acquaintance has already surpassed multiple lifelong associations with others in providing me with food for thought on the most pressing matters of the day.  To be sure, it has opened my eyes to the beauty of life and shown me how a single individual can so value and utilize every precious moment that Almighty God has given him to make the world a better place .

You, sir, are a living legend. Would that God in his infinite wisdom should allow you another century on this planet or several more decades to illumiate us with your keen observations and lifelong experiences.

On further reflection, sir, that would probably be unfair to God, for while we here do need you so badly, learned teacher, there awaits for you in another phase of existence, rewards, fulfillment, and honor befitting of how well you have shown us the paths to our own successes, happiness, and destinies.

I only pray that God will see fit in his benevolence grant us the blessing of your presence among us for a very, very long time, before requesting the pleasure of your presence elsewhere!

Congrats again, sir…and may God keep you in good health!

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