I chuckled to myself the other day when I read in the Minutes of the Executive Council that it (EXCO) had dealt with a simple matter involving the transfer of a staff member from Radio Anguilla to another department and the plan to employ another person to fill that vacancy.
Of course, that is the procedure under the Civil Service Regulations, but it appeared to have been so simple a matter that the Head of Department, with the collaboration of the Permanent Secretary and the Department of Public Administration, could have easily handled it. The Executive Council, which has many important matters on its hands, could have spared itself the trouble of dealing with this simple matter, I thought. But that is the policy.
It brought back memories of my service as Director of Radio Anguilla when the late Iwandai (Howard) Gumbs, served as Announcer and later Senior Announcer/Sales and Marketing Officer.
I had the audacity, without consultation with anyone above me, to attach the title and duties of Sales and Marketing Officer to Iwandai’s post. It was a deal agreed between the two of us out of necessity, despair and force, to significantly improve Radio Anguilla’s collection of revenue. Not to do anything about it, was the looming threat that the radio station would be closed down by Government for being a financial burden to the Treasury. This was not just a rumour in the service. It was made clear to me by the Minister responsible for Radio Anguilla at the time. He approached me saying, in a very stern manner and dialect: “Awyer ain’t making no money. We goin close awyer down.” Of course, while the station was collecting some money from death announcements and other miscellaneous services, it was essentially a free public service operation largely geared towards the dissemination of information and the provision of entertainment and education services. Indeed, that was the original purpose of Radio Anguilla when it was set up by the British Government in April 1969 during the Anguilla Revolution. The real term used for its purpose was “political expediency”.
It was a result of the above threat of closure by the Minister, that I panicked, met urgently with Iwandai and asked him to “go out in the highways and byways” selling advertisements so that Radio Anguilla could make some money and remain in operation. Acting without permission, I was painfully aware that the financial arrangements and accounting procedures had to be carefully handled. Iwandai had no training or experience in sales and marketing. But, to his credit, he was blessed with a well-cultivated powerful and influential voice as befitting any serious radio broadcaster, and an excellent command of the English Language. Honesty and reliability were also among his fine hallmarks. He readily agreed to take up the challenge. But I know he had to be paid for his extra services – and who in Government or the public service would pay and encourage him for official duties not officially assigned to him?
The deal we had was that he would seek advertisements from the business community; collect and carefully record the money; write and produce, in his own poetic voice, the advertising scripts; and enter the recorded commercials on the station’s logs. So how was he paid? I gave him an agreed commission from the money he collected, and receipted the rest for the Treasury.
His main advertisers were Fairplay Food Center, Ashley & Sons, Albert’s Supermarket & Hardware and Proctor’s Supermarket – and the list soon expanded. It can be safely said that he brought and established an advertising awareness in Anguilla not hitherto introduced on the island. It was a very smooth deal and transaction we worked out. All of a sudden, Radio Anguilla’s revenue spiked with money pouring into the Treasury.
The Permanent Secretary, Finance, at the time, was overwhelmed and asked me about the unexpected surge in revenue. I told him the story of the deal between Iwandai and I. Holding true to civil service regulations, and the requirement for civil servants to seek permission to take certain decisions, he said to me:
“You know you can be surcharged for this?”
My response was: “Well, they can go ahead. What was I supposed to do? They threatened to close down Radio Anguilla, did not give me the staff or tools to run the station as a revenue-collecting agent of Government. So I had to use by own initiative and best judgment to do something about the situation.”
The Permanent Secretary laughed and turned away – glad to see the money pouring in. I waited to be surcharged but the punishment or letter of rebuke never came.
It was fairly cheap to run Radio Anguilla in those days and salaries were extremely low. In fact, the station which was transferred to the civil service in April 1976, as the Department of Information and Broadcasting, never appeared to have been fully integrated and recognised as an arm of the civil service. Probably this provided an avenue where any enthusiastic Director could use his own initiative and discretion to accomplish something worthwhile for his department without the attendant red tape.
For the remaining years of my appointment, the deal with Iwandai soared Radio Anguilla’s annual revenue from around EC$180,000 to more than three quarters of a million dollars. It is something that Iwandai always bragged about. I was proud of him, his work, and the deal we had.
Following my retirement, Iwandai, along with his long-time friend and soulmate, the late Ras B, left Radio Anguilla and set up their own broadcasting and commercial services at Heart Beat Radio at Crocus Hill and later, up to their unfortunate passing, jointly operated Up Beat Radio at Rey Hill instead. At both stations Iwandai perfected his sales and marketing skills, experience, and expertise which he initially gained at Radio Anguilla as a result of the defying civil service deal we had.
I frequently interacted with Iwandai over the years and both of us enjoyed a very close relationship. He respected me to such an extent that sometimes I was embarrassed by the amount of respect he heaped on me.
“How are you, Sir?” he would warmly address me.
The last time we met was when ANGLEC launched its solar farm at Corito on September 16, 2016. He was then covering the event with his lovely daughter, Wandeesha, but was obviously in deep mourning over the passing of Ras B. On his grieving shoulders fell the burden and responsibility of carrying forward the stringent operations of Up Beat Radio – handling sales and marketing, the news, commentary, his own popular programming, preaching, and the interactive request and discussion programmes for the station’s wide circle of fans.
I was moved with compassion and shared his deep sense of loss of his life-long friend, Ras B. I walked up to him. I put my arms around his shoulders and, struggling to maintain my composure, I whispered:
“Iwandai, you know I always love you very much.”
“Yes Sir. I know. I always tell them so,” he replied, still embracing me in turn.
We walked away. Two hot tears trickled down my cheeks.
As for Iwandai, his body language conveyed the same sentiments to me.
I never saw him again. I was jolted by the sad news of his surprise passing on Friday, October 7 – just four months and three days after Ras B died on June 4.
As I now ponder Iwandai’s unfortunate departure from this life, I am thankful to have known him as a wonderful, caring, and visionary human being and friend; and to have interacted with him over so many years. One of the fond memories I have is that we had made a desperate, but daring, financial deal to save Radio Anguilla from closure which worked out very well down to this day.
