"Mi soon come. Mi have a likkle business fi tek care of".

That's interesting, I thought to myself as I stared at the figure of Zekes holding his hands up in the air to the cheering crowd: it's not every day that the Jamaica Constabulary allows a prisoner out to wave at their friends! But of course, this was no ordinary day and this was no ordinary prisoner.

Eventually, the crowd dispersed from the front of the station but the story was far from over. Within the next 24 hours, the rioting escalated into horrifying proportions and the downtown core became effectively locked-down for the next three days. In one incident, an 8-year old girl was seen sobbing over the dead body of her father in the middle of an intersection. According to relatives, he had been shot dead by a JDF soldier as he made his way to a store to buy groceries.

In another incident, an armoured police unit stalled in the middle of a downtown street and before you could say "BUMBOCLAWT!", the vehicle came under heavy gunfire, forcing the occupants to run for their lives.

How's that for poor traffic conditions?

By the time the city had returned to a tense calm, countless numbers of people had been injured while three others (including a 22-year old JDF soldier) lay dead in the morgue.

And what of Zekes? Well, he was positively identified in a police lineup and formerly charged with attempted murder; possession of an illegal weapon and wounding with intent. A few weeks ago, however, he was acquitted of all charges after his lawyers proved the obvious inadmissibility of the police lineup.

Indeed, Phipps was seen by hundreds, maybe thousands of people before he was later pointed out by the prosecution's witness. So now, six months after the explosion of 1998, Phipps has become the latest urban legend in a country well known for its legends. His story continues to be a hot topic for academics, loudmouth radio-talk-show hosts , web surfers, politicians and musicians who have created more than twenty reggae tunes about Zekes :"the man who cause the history in the streets." And, if you go to Half-Way-Tree, you can still find recordings of the Matthews Lane celebration dance (featuring live performances by Stone Love, Bounty Killer, Spragga-Benz and Baby Cham) which was thrown to honour the Big Man shortly after he was released on bail.

PART II : When Two Jamaica's Collide.

"I man born yah. I man grow yah. I no leave yah. Fi go a Canada. No way sah! Pot a boil yah! Belly full yah. Sweet Jamaica! -Pluto Shervington (now residing in Miami)

"Flee from the city...its getting shitty" -Peter Tosh (now dead)

It's another sunny afternoon in the posh neighbourhood of Norbrook in upper St.Andrew. As usual, the tree lined road that runs alongside the Constant Spring golf course is slightly congested with commuters headed back from the city into the hills and vice versa.

There are people in this part of town who have never, and will never step foot in certain parts of the downtown core. And why should they? This is uptown darling. Home to some of the wealthiest people in the world. Playground of the privileged and the professional, and by the way, where the Prime Minister lives.

A place set comfortably apart from the violence and misery that thrives in the ghettos of downtown Kingston. That is, unless you were on that same tree lined street at around 2 pm last week during a 10 minute chase and shootout between a S.A.T.C.F (Special Anti-Crime Task Force) police unit and the occupants of a fleeing Toyota minibus.

According to the SATCF's Inspector Delroy Hewitt, the men in the bus were "behaving suspiciously" and were ordered to stop but "disobeyed" and instead opened fire on the police. In the next second, Norbrook road was transformed into an apocalyptic nightmare as the police and the gunmen in the Toyota van sped down the road blasting their Beretta's and M-16s at each other- ghetto style- quite literally across the front lawns of some very non-ghetto residences.

In the end, the van slammed into a stone fence where , according to witnesses, it was quickly surrounded by the police who sprayed the vehicle, killing whoever was still alive inside. Then the bodies were dragged out of the van onto the blood stained road where they lay for a while in the hot afternoon sun until they were dredged up and taken away to have their toes tagged.

Fucked-up you say? Dread?! Sure. But still a relatively rare occurrence in the other Jamaica, and ultimately, just another item on the evening news along with the latest cricket scores and highlights from the annual yam festival in St. Mary and a clip of Holyfield complaining about the bias nature of HBO boxing announcers. Indeed, its never nice to see a bunch of dead niggers lying in the road, but life does go on (for most people anyway).

SEVERAL DAYS LATER...

(High Noon, April 20th, 1999)

"Anytime, wi hungry again dem a go see wi nine.." -Dave Kelly for Bounty Killer

A librarian at the University of the West Indies saunters over to my desk with a peculiar look on her face. At first I think she's about to chastise me once more for redirecting Ethernet juice from one of the library terminals into my laptop. But today, her expression seems more worried than annoyed. -"The library will be closing early today", she informs me, " we want to get everyone out of here as soon as possible." A security guard begins to lock up the library shutters. The librarian walks away and that's when I notice I am almost alone in the building. What the fuck is this now? I flick on my Casio television and I get my answer: RIOTS! ISLANDWIDE RIOTS! BUMBAPUSSYRASSCLOTH!!!

I'm surprised, but not completely. An explosion of this kind had been brewing since last week when protests arose over the new budget which includes an increase in the cost of bus fares and a sharp hike in the price of gasoline. Taxi operators, quite obviously were the most vocal as the new fuel rates were announced in the same week that the government declared that the price of taxi licences would double. Things took a took a turn for the worse on Friday when several hundred protesters in Half-Way-Tree were tear-gassed by the security forces. But now, in what appears to be an all-out assault on the PNP government (largely organized by its political opponents), the island has erupted into a kind of chaos that will require much more than tear gas to subdue.

After plugging the cable back into the library computer and packing up my things I begin walking across the campus which is largely deserted save for about 20 students in front of the main library who are lingering about nervously; waiting for the pouring rain to stop or their rides to show up, whichever comes first. Behind them, in the distance I notice a wisp of black smoke rising from the direction of Papine-one of several small communities that border the Mona campus.

Several minutes later, I ‘m walking towards the University hospital gate (albeit cautiously) as the sound of a gunshot rings out and people scramble momentarily behind cars in the parking lot (Jamaica is one of the few places in the world where people run towards gunshots for a better view). The scene through the wire fence is one of mayhem: two overturned burning cars blocking the road; a flaming garbage dumpster; 10 year old's with stones and bottles who run like hell as the security forces arrive on the scene.

Two police units are soon joined by a patrol of soldiers who jump out of their vehicles with their weapons drawn. Several officers start to move towards the entrance of the shanty as ghetto dwellers withdraw into various doors and alleyways. Suddenly, an officer fires a shot into the air-BLOYEE!-and people scramble once more as someone from inside the ghetto answers : BLAM! BLAM!

The police slowly retreat from the area and clear the debris from the street before getting back into their vehicles and departing the scene. Within minutes, about 30 people-most of them children-emerge from the ghetto and drag the debris, including one of the burned cars back into the street. All along the wire fence , hospital workers, security guards and some students watch curiously as several young boys , not one more than 11 years old , cuss drivers and the government and each other.

One man standing beside me seems very amused by the antics of a particularly irate barefoot youth, that is, until the child sees him laughing.

-"Yow pussyhole. Yuh nuh see dis a serious time?! Wha yuh a laugh fah? Yuh want a shot ina yuh bloodcloth face?!"

The man looks shocked.

-"My yute", he laughs nervously , "wha yuh a get on like dat fah?"

-"Who yuh a call youth fassyhole?! I bet yuh cyan come over on dis side and chat to mi!"

-"Suck yuh madda!", he screams at the child.-

"Suck yuh madda-madda!", replies the barefoot boy with a wave of his hand, "Mi nuh ina nuh long talk wit yuh. Come ova yah soh if yuh a badman."

The man stares back at the child with his mouth wide open. Just imagine, a little barefoot pickney like this, cursing him and his grandmother and threatening to shoot off his face!? Indeed, he can't believe it. But then, for some people, seeing is the only way they are able to believe.

PART III : TEAR GAS FOR LUNCH

A JDF helicopter circles low overhead as approximately 300 students from both the UWI and UTECH campuses make their way towards Jamaica House via Hope Road. The students , most of them wearing white t-shirts and chanting are a well-behaved bunch. Maybe too well behaved as they walk cooperatively along the sidewalk towards Papine , heeding the orders of the police to stay off of the road.

The idea is simple (if not slightly idealistic): march to Jamaica House in a "non-political" show of unity with the general public. This, say the organizers, will indicate to the public that the university is not a disconnected entity that only shows its face when there's an hike in tuition fees. However, when the students arrive in Papine, amid piles of burning debris and angry mobs of protesters from the nearby communities of Augusttown, Mona Common and Papine, the seriousness of the situation begins to set in.

-"Get aff di sidewalk and come ina di street!", howls a masked youth from a bicycle as the students turn the corner and point themselves toward Jamaica House. Near the gate to UTECH someone throws a bottle of dry ice which explodes like a shotgun blast behind a group of nervous looking soldiers who spin around with their weapons pointed at chest level. But no-one shoots. Not yet. Overhead, a second helicopter appears in the sky as hundreds of people join in behind the students on Hope Road. All of a sudden, the crowd stops as a squad of riot cops line up across the road.

What's this? Somebody disobey a traffic light or something?

No time to confirm: the police start firing into the air and tossing canisters of tear gas into the crowd, which, naturally, causes a panicked stampede through the clouds of choking white smoke.

Oh great, I think to myself as I hurl myself over a nearby fence into the waiting jaws of a medium-sized Rottweiler, I just bought this fuckin' pair of pants.

MEANWHILE...

In Matthews lane, the scene is strangely quiet. Nobody is venturing out into the streets to participate in the shootouts and roadblocks that have spread across the island like a wildfire in a cane-field. In fact, most of downtown core is quiet. In contrast, places like Grants Pen, Washington Boulevard and Mountain View Avenue have been transformed into infernos as residents hurl burning tires and debris into the streets, dispersing only when the police arrive to clear the roadblocks and returning immediately after they leave to reinstall them.

At the bottom of Jacks Hill (a wealthy upper-St.Andrew's residential area) , a strange gathering near the Texaco station on Barbican Road is attracting the attention of the television cameras. For one thing , this group of "protesters" are decidedly uptown in nature. Not to be left out of the excitement, the social elite have ventured out of their four car garage houses to dance and sing "songs of protest" beside their parked Pajero 4x4's and coolers loaded with cold Red Stripe.

It's a bizarre sight made even more bizarre as a young "light-skin" woman from the group is arrested by the police for "indecent language" and "failing to keep moving." As the cameras keep rolling, the woman becomes increasingly fierce, particularly after she breaks a fingernail while trying to avoid being handcuffed to a truck.

-"EVERYONE IS SUFFERING!", exclaims another woman from the sidelines as the lady with the broken fingernail is stuffed into a police car, "NOT JUST THE POOR!"

FURTHER ON IN THE NEWS

By the time the sun goes down in Jamaica, at least three people are dead and over 90 have been arrested, twenty five of them in Montego Bay where rioters had set fire to a sugar cane plantation and looted stores. In Grants Pen , a pregnant 25 year old woman lies dead on the road in front of her wailing mother after she is gunned down at an intersection-a sight witnessed by thousands of shocked Jamaicans who tune in to the 7 o' clock news which begins with a gory close-up of the dead woman splayed out on the road in a half nude state.

Just a second! Isn't that in poor taste? You can't be showing dead women on the evening news! What will the tourists think? It's irresponsible! They'll leave the island without cornrowing their hair or buying a "JAMAICA NO PROBLEM" t-shirt or a Rasta wig!

But wait, after another day of violent unrest (and six more deaths) the rioting suddenly stops. The roads are cleared and people go back to work. On the north coast, its business as usual. Sandals didn't get torched and there's still plenty of ganja, reggae, Red Stripe and beautiful beaches. And oh yes, there's bigger things going on in the world. NATO just cruised a missile into Milosevic's house. Two teenage freaks just went on a shotgun rampage through a high school in Denver. Alligators are running for their lives in the burning Florida Everglades and there's been some kind of oil spill somewhere.

Bigger issues. More important issues than a man named Zekes or a shootout in Norbrook or a 3-day riot or another dead woman in the streets of Kingston. Indeed, life WILL go on..for most people anyway.