Greetings from the Bronx. Cousin Leroy here. I have to tell you, I was on the phone with Cousin Pearl this morning — she still in Kingston, she don’t come to America, she say America too cold — and she read me the Gleaner front page, and I am sitting here in my apartment on 233rd Street and I cannot believe what I am hearing.

The pension ting

So Pearl tell me that retired police officers in Jamaica — people who serve thirty years — cannot pay their light bill because the pension system is not paying them out properly. Thirty years! Thirty years in the JCF! These men, some of them my age, some of them younger, they walking into retirement expecting to live on their pension, and the pension office telling them “late July 2026.”

Let me tell you something. When I retired from the MTA three years ago, my pension check was in my account the next month. Not ten years later. Not “late July 2026.” The next month. Because the MTA has a pension office that knows what it is doing and uses computers and employs people who come to work. Not the specialised Pension Hub formalised in 2025 that Pearl read me about. What is a Hub? A Hub is where you go for sweetbread. A Hub is not a government pension-processing office.

I tell Pearl, the solution is simple. The officers need to do what we do up here in the Bronx when the landlord don’t turn up the heat. You organize. You get a union rep. You file a grievance. You call the Gleaner. You call Andrew Holness office direct. In America we know how to get attention. The problem in Jamaica is everybody too polite. Too much “Mr. Minister, sir, if it is not too much trouble.” Meanwhile the police officer who lock up criminal for thirty years cannot buy cooking oil.

Pearl say “Leroy, it is not that simple.” Cousin Pearl, anything is that simple if you make it that simple. Go to the office. Bring camera. Do not leave until you get your paper. That is how America works.

The waste bin thing

Then Pearl tell me about this Howard Lau man who has a company called Scientific and Medical Supplies. The Auditor General find out that this man company use the hospital tax exemption to import specialised waste bins — whatever that is, I picture the bin at the hospital where they throw the used needle — and she say he supposed to pay back. And Howard Lau say, in the newspaper, “not my bill.”

Now. In America if the Auditor General say you owe the government money, the first word out of your mouth is not “not my bill.” The first word out of your mouth is “through my lawyer, I will review the findings and cooperate fully with any investigation.” That is the American way. You do not stand up in the Gleaner and say “no, the bins are at the hospital, go bother the hospital.”

Because Cousin Leroy will tell you something. In America, if you say “not my bill” to the IRS, the IRS will come to your house and take your car, your television, your mother television, and then they will garnish your wages until 2078. The IRS does not care about “not my bill.” The IRS does not accept “not my bill” as a finding. The IRS does not negotiate.

Jamaica too polite with these people. That is what I think.

The consultant paperwork problem

And then there is this Canadian company, WPS, that the hospital hire to make a turnaround plan, but the hospital never give them the paperwork, so the consultants is saying they couldn’t do the job, but they still get paid. Pearl say the CEO of the consultant company dismiss questions about their qualifications.

In America we have a saying: follow the money. Where did the consultant money go? Who approved the consultant invoices? Who signed the documents saying the work was done? This is not complicated. This is forensic accounting 101. Get a forensic accountant from New York. I know a guy. Bronx guy, but he do Caribbean consulting. He’ll find it.

Holness get another award

And in the middle of all of this, Prime Minister Holness is in New York getting an award. An award! From the American Foundation for the University of the West Indies. I saw the pictures. Very handsome in the tuxedo. Looking very presidential.

Cousin Leroy has a question. Who is running the country while he in New York getting the award? That is the question. Because while he shaking hands and taking pictures with the UWI alumni, the retired police officers cannot pay their light bill, the waste bins are unaccounted for, and the consultants are arguing with the hospital about whose fault it is that nothing was done.

I am not saying the PM should not get awards. I am saying maybe get the awards by video call. The flight to JFK alone is probably the cost of one of those retired officer pensions for a year.

Tonight is the match!

Now the good news. Reggae Girlz play Guyana tonight! 7 pm at the National Stadium! I have my jersey from 2019 still fit me (well, almost fit me, the belly grow a little, but the jersey stretch).

I will be at the sports bar on Boston Road with the other Caribbean people watching the match. We going to order the curry goat. We going to shout at the television. Cousin Pearl said she and the neighbours are going to the stadium in person. She has her flag. She has her vuvuzela. She is ready.

Go Reggae Girlz! Beat Guyana nice! Make us proud in the Bronx! When you score, I will hear Cousin Pearl screaming all the way from Kingston.

(I have relatives in Guyana too, through marriage. But tonight the Jamaican side of the family wins. Sorry, cousins in Georgetown. See you at the Christmas party.)

What Cousin Leroy think

Jamaica, you need to get organized. The pension office need to be fixed. The Auditor General need to be backed up when she find things. The consultant game need to be cleaned up. And the Prime Minister need to be home running the country.

But first, beat Guyana 3-0 tonight.

Priorities.

— Cousin Leroy, the Bronx