Carnival tabanca

There has been so much confusion about carnival 2022 in Trinbago. Many people are concerned  about the spread of the virus, and they should be since this is a very new and deadly virus. 

The celebration of freedom during the carnival season has, of course, been on pause due to the pandemic, leaving legions of devotees overwhelmingly distraught. As vaccinations ramp up, “carnival babies” are concerned about one thing and one thing only, when will the bacchanal start?

The government has been trying to balance the cost of human lives and the economy. Since the beginning of the pandemic both the government and the private sector have been trying to balance between lives and livelihoods, between lives and living. I think what we should really be asking is whether we should have carnival or whether we need to have carnival in 2022. We should be asking, does Trinbago lives matter?

We in the Caribbean know that carnival is about freedom of self and expression. Carnival was born as rebellion against oppression when enslaved Africans on the island used it as an ideological weapon against their rulers, a ridicule of everything that held them hostage. Carnival Monday and Tuesday was a time when enslaved people were allowed to sing their own songs, in their own language, and be themselves, displaying characters from their own life. They created their own stories of freedom and, in a way, it was a fight against oppression.

Last year because of the pandemic and rise in cases, people missed the sweet, sweet calypso and sweet soca music, rapso and steel pan. But what people all over Trinbago are feeling right now is “Carnival Tabanca”. Let me leave you with this just in case you can’t go.

Everybody let me see yuh/Clap those hands/Come now and let me see you/Clap those hands/Everybody let me see yuh/Clap those hands/Come now and let me see you/Clap those hands.

Ah tell you ah have it/Ah tell you ah have it/Ah tell you ah have it, Lord/Tell you ah got it, oh Lord, Lord/I am a real carnival tabanca/Hard carnival tabanca/As soon as carnival done this year/Well I just start catching fever/When the doctor come diagnose me/Tell meh wife me well, is not dengue/Is just delusions and delusion have me thinking soca can you help me/Every time I hear a police siren/I tinking is escort/Comin’ to take me to the next venue/So my performance would not be short.

When ah see a big truck in Port-of-Spain/Tinking is Harts of Bliss/Is ah big dump truck passin’/Wit red san’ in it, Lord/Ah tell you ah have it/Ah tell you ah have it/Ah tell you ah have it/Lord, tell you ah have it, yeah.

Everybody let me see you/Clap those hands/Come now and let me see you/Clap those hands/Everybody let me see you/Clap those hands/Come now and let me see you/Clap those hands.

I miss jumpin’ on de road with Tribe/Deh wit meh woman on meh right han’ side/All meh friend an’ dem from outside/Who from North and who from South side/miss jumpin’ with de band in de road/Alcohol in meh hand, it cold/When dem gyul dem ‘bumpers’ start roll/Man dem markin’ ‘bumpers’ to hold/Well anytime I go out and buy some paint/All I see is J’Ouvert/When de blue devils dem from Paramin/Dey blockin’ road to get pay.

And when ah see a big truck in Port-of-Spain/Tinking is Tribe of Bliss/Is ah big dump truck passin’/Wit red san’ in it, Lord/Ah tell you ah have it/Lord, tell you ah have it, yeah.

Everybody let me see you/Clap those hands/Come now and let me see you/Clap those hands/Everybody let me see you/Clap those hands,/Come now and let me see you/Clap those hands.

Ah tell you ah have it/Lord, tell you ah have it, yeah/Ahh ah ah aye, yeah ah ah, oh Lord/Ah have ah tabanca, carnival tabanca

Subrina Hall-Azih is a Trinidadian Educator residing in New York.