By Raffique Shah
March 18, 2007
It happened one day, sometime in the mid-1970s, not long after I had emerged from prison for my role in the 1970 mutiny. Because of the political nature of my crime, I knew there were tens of thousands of mainly PNM diehards who were bitter, even hostile towards me. But I refused to be intimidated by them.
At age 28 or thereabouts, I strutted around the country with a proverbial “log” on my shoulder (no chip for me!), defiance etched on my face, and as sharp a tongue as one could find. In fact, I saw myself as being “badder than de baddest”, ready to take on anyone, as many PNMites of that era would testify, having been on the receiving end of my barbs or colourful barrages.
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