Let me confess that during the pandemic lockdown, regular Facebook posts from a zoological officer of the Emperor Valley Zoo helped me (and I am sure thousands more) maintain a relatively high level of emotional stability.
I am not going to call the young officer’s name (which you may already know), since it would be unfair to drag her further into a discussion on the latest, absurd instance in which our well-documented “culture of secrecy” has been on stark public display.
The fact is that during the pandemic lockdown, the Emperor Valley Zoo decided to open its gates virtually to us through a series of delightful social media dispatches exhibiting a high level of attention, compassion, and rapport between a competent zookeeper and the animals in her care.
Then, sometime later, came Jack the kangaroo, public speculation surrounding his health through media reporting and, latterly, the diligent work of Newsday reporter, Narissa Fraser.
Here, unlike so many other news stories with grand revelations, we aren’t dealing with developments that emerged from the dark, sinister shadows of secret underworld transactions. Concern was already in the public domain, and without visible objection from anyone, that something was wrong with Kangaroo Jack.
Back in March, the Agriculture Minister even launched an investigation into the condition of the animal.
If anything, the ongoing public saga of Kangaroo Jack offered us an insight into our humane instincts as people – whatever the justifiable ambivalence over zoos.
This was no ordinary zoo story. For example, I cannot say that too many visitors can name any of the four other kangaroos at the zoo that reached there about three years before Jack.
Maybe, maybe not. But I remember visiting with young Reign from Guyana in 2022, and we experimented with makeup names for all the animals.
I also don’t think it should be incumbent on any zoo to issue death announcements upon the passing of any snake, monkey, manicou, or turtle (though it has happened in the past!). But then there was Jack – the subject of curious social and mainstream media attention.
Sure, there are perhaps more important things to gripe about, but I think this case points us in the direction of an overall malaise that plagues our country, and for certain, the rest of our region. This isn’t just about a kangaroo.
So persistent has been the ready resort to secrecy in official circles, that some of us in the field of journalism have fixed activist eyes on the requirements of freer access to information held in trust by public agencies.
To locate the role of the Zoological Society in all this, we may choose to look at the 2018 judgment of Justice Frank Seepersad, in which it is concluded that “the ZSTT (Zoological Society) is a public body within the meaning of the (Freedom of Information) Act ...”
The zoo is owned, operated, and managed by the Zoological Society of T&T (ZSTT) – incorporated by statute in 1952 and reportable to the Statutory Authorities Service Commission. A little over $5 million was allocated to ZSTT for 2024 by the state via the Ministry of Agriculture, Land, and Fisheries.
The ZSTT is also under the purview of the Office of Procurement Regulation and its annual administrative reports are required to be tabled in parliament.
It thus appears that in many respects, the society has transparency obligations under the law. At the very least, there is general public accountability even when, let’s say, the condition of an animal has captured our imaginations.
There are, of course, procedural issues associated with the FOI Act that can extend beyond mere questioning by an enterprising reporter on the health status of an animal.
But should we really have to go this far? A reporter asked a simple question: Whatever happened to Kangaroo Jack? Phone calls remained unanswered. People could not be located.
It is appalling that the society should have disclosed what appear to be straightforward, apparently non-controversial medical facts about the demise of Kangaroo Jack only after being pressed to do so by an enterprising reporter and in the face of accompanying public concern.
It is sad that so many of us are shrugging this off as another mere example of our “culture of secrecy” - noted by researchers on a Media Institute of the Caribbean (MIC) study as being pervasive throughout our region.
Until we aggressively address this through all available means, including employment of enlightened political will, Kangaroo Jack can easily become Citizen Jill.
