It was with such relief and more than a little joy when I heard that Lutfur Rahman had been removed from his post as Mayor of Tower Hamlets. Almost any fraud, any cheat and any dishonesty that you can imagine, were committed by this man. For instance, the judge who ousted him found that this man used fake voters to win elections for him. He used public funds for his own aggrandisement. He offered grants to people who might bolster his position. He took money intended for The Alzheimer's Society - yes, you did read that right. And, he took money from one of the poorest wards in East London - those inhabitants need every bit of help they can get.
I am in the East End as I write. I have family here and I love to visit and sometimes work here too. Today, as I walked along Ronan Road in East London, I was struck by the obvious poverty surrounding me. Many have no education and many of theSeeing the people who Rahman cheated made his crime all the more hideous - preying on the very people whose lives he should have been making better. These people are the ones he intimidated and threatened, telling them that if they didn't vote for him they were bad Muslims and that they were making God angry.
Rahman used the race card innumerable times. One of those times, he attacked, with great ferocity, the Labour candidate John Biggs. When Labout began its canpaignm the whole campaign was racist. Rahman himself to anyone who tackled him said that they were members of the English Defence League. In fact anyone who challenged him including the BBC, was branded a racist. So, thank goodness that we have the courts to decide who is and who is not guilty. Rahman was found guilty. So, the consequences of his crimes are that he must pay a huge sum of money. The worst one though is total humiliation. Those he frightened and those he cheated can afford a satisfied smile, at the very least.
Sunday, 26 April 2015
Wednesday, 1 April 2015
What I can no longer tolerate - Part 2
So, here is the second part of what I can tolerate no longer. The first point of this second post concerns those who have no joy in their lives. To be able to laugh, to see the funny side, to want the best for those you care about are all integral parts of a person who has joy. These people have the capacity to lighten the mood, to raise the energy in the room. Sadly for me, there is a person in my family, not a blood relative, I will swiftly add, who brings misery to any living room she seats herself in - mine unfortunately on every New Year's Eve. No matter how cheerful you try to be she will bring you down with tales of immigrants running and ruining everything, the country's debt, the deteriorating behaviour of young people, the proliferation of homosexuals and the fact that she doesn't see her family as much as she would like to. I have given up trying to change her - she is old, will not listen to reason and actually wants to stay as she is - and be joyless of course.
I can no longer tolerate those people who show so little sensitivity for others that they boast about their lives in the presence of those who do not have such a good life. In one group of friends that I am a part of, there is one woman who is very wealthy. She talks, often dominating the conversation, about her properties abroad, the hotels she has stayed in, both abroad and in this country, her shopping trips, her wardrobe, her many kitchen gadgets and her inheritance from her wealthy mother. Her little girl voice is employed as she says thank you to a compliment you might pay. For instance, 'I like your plates and dishes.' Then comes the cringeworthy response. 'Oh, do you? I'm so pleased. It's so kind of you to say so. I love their pattern, don't you?' And on it goes - to the point where you wish you had kept silent. She who has everything should keep schtum in the presence of those who don't. Thankfully she has moved away now, and that was one leaving party I was more than happy to attend.
I can no longer stand competitive people, in particular competitive parents. It feels as if it never ends. I regret - massively, having got caught up in all that when my children were at school. What on earth was I thinking? The reading books at infant school were colour coded and therefore it was clear as to which child was on which level. One of my children learnt to read when he was very young. That meant that he was flying through the reading scheme. Consequently, the number of parents who asked me, how was it the case that my child was reading so well, grew each day. The truth was that my child was just good at reading. I had another child who was not good at reading and the comments, this time were along these lines. 'Don't worry. They all get there in the end, you know.' How bloody patronising!
But it doesn't end there. At secondary school, GCSE results were a real contest. Bumping into one woman on the street, she asked me how my child had got on. She didn't listen to the answer - she only asked so that she could tell me that her daughter 'was drowning in A*s'. I ask you!
There's more - the A levels, the university, the degree, the job and on and on and on. Is this a new thing - this discussing your children with your friends? I have no recollection of my parents talking about me or my siblings with their friends. No doubt they had better things to talk about.
I can no longer tolerate those who talk about themselves, r their family all the time. No matter what you say (if you can say anything) this person brings it back to themselves.
Meanness - that I can tolerate no longer. I used to say nothing, accept this trait in people while not liking them. Those who leapt out of the taxi first, to avoid paying, those who never had any change so could they settle up tomorrow, if you don't mind. Those who will stay in someone's house for a fortnight and who, throughout that time, will not offer a contribution to the food or suggest that they treat the host to a meal (several, surely). It is not just about paying your way, by not being mean, in other words, being generous, you will no doubt feel better about yourself.
When we say someone is mean, we don't always mean that they are mean with money. There is meanness of spirit, when someone will use a friend to their own ends, where they need to discuss their problems but where they are not happy supporting someone else because they are so self-absorbed. Friends are there to help not to be helped.
One thing is for sure though, if you're not mean you will be happier and much more popular.On your death bed do you want to reflect on the fact that you were kind, generous, thoughtful, or do you want to congratulate yourself, for using people and for screwing money out of people when you will shortly be going where all must go and where money means nothing?
I can no longer tolerate those people who show so little sensitivity for others that they boast about their lives in the presence of those who do not have such a good life. In one group of friends that I am a part of, there is one woman who is very wealthy. She talks, often dominating the conversation, about her properties abroad, the hotels she has stayed in, both abroad and in this country, her shopping trips, her wardrobe, her many kitchen gadgets and her inheritance from her wealthy mother. Her little girl voice is employed as she says thank you to a compliment you might pay. For instance, 'I like your plates and dishes.' Then comes the cringeworthy response. 'Oh, do you? I'm so pleased. It's so kind of you to say so. I love their pattern, don't you?' And on it goes - to the point where you wish you had kept silent. She who has everything should keep schtum in the presence of those who don't. Thankfully she has moved away now, and that was one leaving party I was more than happy to attend.
I can no longer stand competitive people, in particular competitive parents. It feels as if it never ends. I regret - massively, having got caught up in all that when my children were at school. What on earth was I thinking? The reading books at infant school were colour coded and therefore it was clear as to which child was on which level. One of my children learnt to read when he was very young. That meant that he was flying through the reading scheme. Consequently, the number of parents who asked me, how was it the case that my child was reading so well, grew each day. The truth was that my child was just good at reading. I had another child who was not good at reading and the comments, this time were along these lines. 'Don't worry. They all get there in the end, you know.' How bloody patronising!
But it doesn't end there. At secondary school, GCSE results were a real contest. Bumping into one woman on the street, she asked me how my child had got on. She didn't listen to the answer - she only asked so that she could tell me that her daughter 'was drowning in A*s'. I ask you!
There's more - the A levels, the university, the degree, the job and on and on and on. Is this a new thing - this discussing your children with your friends? I have no recollection of my parents talking about me or my siblings with their friends. No doubt they had better things to talk about.
I can no longer tolerate those who talk about themselves, r their family all the time. No matter what you say (if you can say anything) this person brings it back to themselves.
Meanness - that I can tolerate no longer. I used to say nothing, accept this trait in people while not liking them. Those who leapt out of the taxi first, to avoid paying, those who never had any change so could they settle up tomorrow, if you don't mind. Those who will stay in someone's house for a fortnight and who, throughout that time, will not offer a contribution to the food or suggest that they treat the host to a meal (several, surely). It is not just about paying your way, by not being mean, in other words, being generous, you will no doubt feel better about yourself.
When we say someone is mean, we don't always mean that they are mean with money. There is meanness of spirit, when someone will use a friend to their own ends, where they need to discuss their problems but where they are not happy supporting someone else because they are so self-absorbed. Friends are there to help not to be helped.
One thing is for sure though, if you're not mean you will be happier and much more popular.On your death bed do you want to reflect on the fact that you were kind, generous, thoughtful, or do you want to congratulate yourself, for using people and for screwing money out of people when you will shortly be going where all must go and where money means nothing?
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