Reflections on running, the Priority Bus Route, and the state of our nation
I recently ran the Midnight Marathon along the Priority Bus Route (PBR), and it was an experience I’ll never forget—not just for the physical challenge but also for what it revealed about our country’s systems and mindset.
A Midnight Race That Didn’t Start at Midnight
Let’s start with the most symbolic failure: the marathon was scheduled to begin at 12:01 a.m. Instead, we stood waiting in the darkness, stretching and second-guessing our pre-race fuel, as time ticked on with no explanation. The race finally started around 12:20 a.m.—a full 19 minutes late.
It may not sound like a big deal, but it set the tone. A marathon is about discipline, timing, and trust in the organizers. This late start, without proper communication, reflected a lack of respect for those values—and for the runners who trained and prepared. In that moment, the national habit of “starting late” felt less like culture and more like carelessness.
Support Systems That Disappeared Before the Finish
The late start wasn’t the only lapse. Around 5:15 a.m., the water providers packed up and left. Water bottles were abandoned on tables, and the mileage signs were removed, leaving runners who didn’t have GPS watches to guess how far they’d gone. In marathon terms, that’s a serious safety and performance issue. It signals poor planning and a disregard for those further back in the race—those who need the most support.
The Disappearing Purpose of the PBR
The race took us along the Priority Bus Route—a once-promising symbol of efficient public transport. But running its length showed just how far we’ve fallen from that vision. Today, it’s clear that the PBR functions more like a residential backroad than a transit corridor.
Cars are parked along the route like it’s private property. Many homes have direct access, turning this public resource into a patchwork of personal driveways. The number of crossings, both formal and informal, slows everything down. The government must act—reclaim the PBR for its original purpose, reduce crossings, and enforce regulations. It’s the only way to make mass transit viable again.
The Smell of Neglect
Throughout the route, I was hit with the pungent smell of sewage. Not once, not twice—repeatedly. This is not just unpleasant; it’s unacceptable. It indicates deep failures in our infrastructure. A functioning sewer system is not a luxury. It’s a basic marker of a functioning society.
A Violent Wake-Up Call
In the early morning quiet, I witnessed something I can’t forget: a man beating a woman. Some tried to intervene. He shouted threats at them and continued the abuse. It was jarring and disheartening. This wasn’t just one man’s rage—it was a reflection of a culture that still tolerates gender-based violence. Until we address this nationally, women will remain unsafe in our public spaces.
Squatting Without Structure
As we passed through different communities, the volume of squatter settlements was hard to ignore. People need homes—but what I saw showed a lack of planning and long-term vision. These settlements, while a testament to human resilience, also reveal the state’s failure to manage land, enforce regulations, or support affordable housing.
A Race That Revealed Our Reality
This marathon was more than a physical test. It was a mirror. It showed me:
- We accept too many substandard systems.
- We start late and expect applause for finishing at all.
- We allow public resources to become private property.
- We ignore broken infrastructure and broken people.
If we want a better Trinidad and Tobago, we must demand better. Starting on time. Planning with care. Supporting everyone, not just the front-runners. Respecting public space and one another.
Let this marathon be more than a race. Let it be a reckoning.
#MidnightMarathon #TrinidadAndTobago #PriorityBusRoute #PublicSafety #UrbanPlanning #GenderJustice #StartOnTimeTT #RunForChange
Dennise Demming 