THE EDITOR: As TT celebrates our 62nd anniversary of independence, I reflect on a drive I made this past Sunday morning.

It was just about 5.30 and I started my journey in awe of the beauty and majesty of the Queen's Park Savannah, from Memorial Park and NAPA heading west around the world's largest roundabout, past Knowsley, Mille Fleurs, Queen's Royal College, Archbishop's House, Hayes Court, Killarney (Stollmeyer’s Castle), Whitehall, the beautiful Botanic Gardens, and the majestic President's House. All against the backdrop of the sun peeping above the eastern horizon over the hills of Belmont and Laventille.

My trek continued on to Cipriani Boulevard and eventually onto Wrightson Road. My awe and wonder continued again with the view of international cricket icon Brian Lara’s brown and bronzish statue with his trademark left-handed swing starting the journey east on the promenade named in his honour.

At Independence Square, the name rings testimony to our challenges and triumphs over the past 62 years. The Treasury building stood majestically opposite the Twin Towers, and further eastbound Nicholas Tower heralded the start of bankers row, all the way to Cipriani statue standing guard atop Fredrick Street.

Sadly, my sense of pride began taking a beating as more and more with every foot east I began to see my capital city’s decaying underbelly, with the promenade becoming less and less worthy of the name of Brian Lara. Unkempt benches were populated by homeless people in all states of neglect and disaffection, in some cases devoid of even a modicum of human dignity.

From Republic Bank to Royal Bank there was a sea of homeless and abandoned souls on the concourse and pavement in equal numbers, and neglect on the promenade itself.

My heart continued to sink as I crossed Cipriani statue heading further east as the deterioration continued, with homeless people – some naked, many reduced to executing bodily functions in full view of passers-by – rubbish, neglect and abandonment on full display, and with passers-by trying their best to attenuate the stench. Macabre and astounding permanence of a frontal part of our nation’s capital in decay is before our very eyes – every day.

As I continued my journey east, there was a glimmer of hope punctuated by the sunrise over the imposing Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. Her front wall, decorated with a beautiful red, white and black banner, peeped through the decay, the filth, the neglect and abandonment of our sense of national pride, nonetheless offering a glimmer of hope through the morass.

Pride, and more so national pride, can be so intangible at times and so palpable and tangible at other times. Pride comes from our national athletes giving their all to represent us all, often winning medals; our scholars dominating on the international stage. Pride comes from our cultural ambassadors flying the flag proudly through our many artistic expressions, and in so many other ways.

A nation’s capital city should also be a source of pride and inspiration.