Wuk pon she

Satiricus was confused, which, his friend Harry had once assured him, was his default position so he shouldn’t worry. But as he slouched towards the Back Street Bar, he wasn’t worried as much as he wanted to know what was going on. He’d just read about the indefatigable Attorney General Moustache Man “decriminalising” obeah and witchcraft.
“I didn’t even know “Obeah” was a crime,” said Satiricus to the fellas, the moment he’d taken his seat and grabbed his beer.
“Na Burnt Ham bin legalise obeah?” asked Cappo, with a grimace. “”E bin seh a dem W’ite Man mek Obeah wan wrang t’ing.”
“Obeah gat fuh be lega all de timel!” asserted Bungi stoutly, after he’s downed his beer.
“Why’d you say that?” asked Hari.
“Yuh na rememba when de PNC bin a stick wan w’ite dally wid pin in front a de court an’ chant “wuk pan she”?” asked Bungi.
“W’en dem want Janet fuh resign, na?” asked Cappo. “None a dem na get charge and lack up!”
“Well it looks like even though Burnt Ham said Obeah was OK, the law was still on the books,” said Satiricus.
“Fellas, Obeah is an African practice,” said Hari. “But every group have their own version, you know!’
“Like when da pries’ in Exorcis’ tek out wan devil fram da lil gyaal?” asked Bungi. “Da Obeah, right?”
“Or when dem people a guh a pandit fuh “open book” pan dem enemy,” asked Cappo. “Da gat fuh be obeah!!”
“But if it was illegal and now the Government makes it legal,” worried Satiricus. “Won’t this now encourage people to do more Obeah?”
“That’s a worry,” said Hari. “Maybe while WE didn’t know Obeah was illegal, those who practiced it kept low because they knew.”
“Well, wha’ me know,” said Cappo looking at Satiricus, “Dis elec-shan time me guh ‘wuk pan Nagga Man!!”
“E’ legal now!” grinned Bungi.
“My friends,” said Satiricus. “Didn’t you hear Nagga Man say he’s Madrassie? They have the biggest Obeah!!”