Carnival, Cocaine & Kidnap

How a CPU course on sensitive reporting found a case study that was all too real

By Simon Rogers

The story began in Trinidad last December when Vindra Naipaul- Coolman drove home from work, having dismissed her bodyguards.

The 51-year-old high-profile CEO of supermarket chain Xtra turned into her driveway in a Chaguanas suburb at 9.15pm. She probably did not notice the gold Nissan Almera blocking the gate behind her until, according to witnesses, two men jumped out firing a pistol at her car. She shouted "you don't scare me" before one of them hit her in the face with a gun and dragged her out. Five bloody teeth were left on the driveway as they sped off. The Nissan was found abandoned nearby.

The island, which thought itself numb to crime, is stunned. Supermarket workers march, pleading for her safe release while religious organisations pray for her safety. Her family has paid TT$1,350,000 (£108,000), half the ransom demand. And, three months after the event, she is still missing.

Trinidad's police reported around 245 kidnappings last year, a 100% increase on five years ago. While the vast majority are known as "quickie kidnappings" where the victim is taken to a cashpoint, over 50 were followed by ransom demands. Many believe the real total is underreported, and the issue has propelled the twin island republic up the international league table of crime hotspots. And as it gears up for Carnival, the biggest in the Caribbean, many are asking if the mysterious disappearance of the country's most high-profile businesswomen will spoil the party.

The situation formed the central field trip in a recent CPU course: "social responsibility and news sense", which brought together journalists from all over the region and looked at how to report on sensitive situations. It provided a graphic example of what can happen when trust breaks down and tensions become inflamed.

Lange Park, where Naipaul-Coolman lives, is a pleasant middle-class area on the edge of Chaguanas. Large houses swathed in bougainvillea sit around a bandstand park, but behind the elegant wrought iron gates rottweilers patrol restlessly and residents talk of feeling under siege. It is a predominantly Indo- Trinidadian area, where locals distrust the predominantly Afro-Trinidadian police force and hire their own security company to patrol the area at night.

It has seen seven kidnappings and five attempted kidnappings in recent months. Resident Kamal Singh's wife was getting into her SUV last year when two men jumped in and beat her up. She was tied up and dumped, alive but shaken up. "These people create fear in our hearts, they bully us," she says.

Residents association president Bobby Sheppard is similarly angry. "I have had four cars taken from me at the point of a gun," he says. On one occasion he was shot in the leg. And the media appears widely distrusted here. Some residents claimed this was the first time that journalists had visited their area.

Trinidad is a country suddenly and unexpectedly wealthy as record oil prices fuel the resource-rich island's economic boom. The capital, Port of Spain, echoes to the sound of construction work as new hotels and office blocks shoot up along a regenerating waterfront clogged with traffic. Unlike its sister Tobago, the island is fiercely unreliant on tourism despite a stunning coastline and golden beaches. But, with the investment of BP and British Gas among others, doesn't need to be as GDP grows and inflation stays low. However, like many places in the Caribbean, the island is suffering from a vicious crime surge. The exceptionally high rate of murders per head of population in Trinidad and its more peaceful sister island of Tobago is startling. At about 30 per 100,000 inhabitants it is 19 times the rate in England and Wales and 16 times the rate in Canada. The island has the death penalty, but lawyers say the chances of being caught are so low it serves no deterrent purpose.

Politics here have become more ethnically divided between the evenly split residents of African and Indian descent. More surprisingly for Trinidadians is that they find themselves enviously eyeing falling crime rates in their previously troubled neighbour Guyana, where recent elections passed peacefully. "That we are slipping down a precipice is evident; finding the rope of hope is the mystery we seem unable to solve," wrote a columnist in the Express here. Amidst the controversy, Suruj Rambachan - mayor of Chaguanas and radio talkshow host - is anxious to promote his central city, which has grown in 30 years to become one of the most populous in Trinidad. He talks glowingly of its potential and the building of new conference centres and hotels. But at the same time, he is painfully aware of the consequences for his area and Trinidad if Naipaul-Coolman is found dead. "Is this city only important to people when someone like Vindra gets kidnapped?" he asks.

"Other CEOs are all under threat, if this can happen to a woman like Vindra, then it can happen to anyone." The bullish mayor's city is just getting over being in the news for other reasons. Down the road from his office is the village of Felicity in an area known as Boot Hill - as are most places in Trinidad with a cemetery.

It was here that a 21-year-old black man named Kevin Valley from the neighbouring village of St Thomas was shot dead in November. Tensions simmered with angry confrontations between villagers, roadblocks and reports of interracial violence previously unheard of in this ethnically-mixed area.

Rumours and theories abound about the kidnappers: that bank tellers are part of the problem or the security services. Some even claim Islamist group Jamaat al Muslimeen is involved.

This may just be a remnant of ill feeling from 1990 when the faction led an attempted coup on the island, storming Parliament and blowing up a police station, before surrendering after a six-day siege.

Whatever the case, many wealthier Indo-Trinidadians have hired private security guards. "People perceive the Indian population to be more wealthy. Most importantly, they are seen to be weak and soft targets who will not fight back," says Dr Kumar Mahabir, an anthropologist at University of Trinidad and Tobago who has analysed the kidnappings and points out that 75% of those kidnapped are of Indian origin. The republic was practically crime-free in the 1970s. However the international trade in cocaine has led to Trinidad being used as a conduit point for drugs and guns, the drugs going on to the US, the guns staying in Trinidad. To make matters worse, anecdotal evidence suggests crime always increases here between Christmas and Carnival, when every night sees a major party at some part of the island.

The island is comparatively safe - the 300 murders reported last year is still way below the 1200 reported in Jamaica. And Trinidad's national security services are at pains to point out that they have spent millions of dollars on high-tech law enforcement tricks such as a (much-derided) airship full of surveillance devices. They have also set up an anti-kidnapping squad and brought in overseas police officers, including some from Scotland Yard and the US.

The hunt, for Mrs Naipaul Coolman, involving 300 officers, is the most extensive - and expensive - the force has ever operated. Police have searched the Lake in Longdenville, west of Chaguanas, draining the cayman-filled water after a tip-off. They found nothing. There are rumours that the kidnappers shot Mrs Naipual Coolman and that she died of her wounds. The police say only that they are following strong leads. Locals are sceptical they will find her there, with some thinking she is much closer to home. "The best place to hide someone is out in the open," says one resident.

A shorter, version of this article appeared in the January 27, 2007 edition of The Guardian, London.







© 2005 Commowealth Press Union