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Why is the city making bus users scramble around town in a silly sort of Easter egg hunt to find bus passes?

City hall, after all, is not on the moon. It shouldn't be that hard to send a city employee one block down the street to Sutherland's Drugs when the store runs out of passes and requests more - or to Reddi-Mart, two blocks away.

If this was one of those once-in-a-blue-moon situations where someone didn't make the delivery because they called in sick that day, it might be understandable. But according to Sutherland's, the city's inability to supply more passes or even return phone calls, was a constant problem.

The store finally grew tired of dealing with irate customers coming in looking for bus passes it didn't have to sell, so it stopped selling them all together in February.

As of yesterday, no one from the city had called either Sutherland's or Reddi-Mart to assure them there will be no more bus pass shortages.

A Public Works employee did tell Yellowknifer last week that the department was revising its system for selling bus passes to provide "more efficiency."

More efficiency? We can only hope this isn't code for hiring expensive consultants to study what efficiencies are needed.

It's pretty clear that all the city really needs to do is put a few boxes of passes in a tote bag and bring them to the stores so they can sell them.

The GNWT's recent belt-tightening has left 100 students in a sudden financial predicament.

A number of scholarships through NWT Student Financial Assistance, adding up to about $400,000, have been wiped off the budget entirely.

Existing students received an e-mail a couple of weeks ago notifying them about the cut, and at least a few are left wondering how they'll be able to afford to continue their studies.

Chris Buchanan of Yellowknife, who is studying law at Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia, feels the GNWT no longer considers education a priority. He pointed to the government's $2.5-million budget for the Olympics. That's a fair argument.

While NWT Student Financial Assistance has been a generous source of support for many years, we are enduring tough economic times and difficult decisions have to be made. Regardless, the government could have, at least, announced the scholarship cuts sooner than late March. As well, the GNWT should continue assisting scholarship recipients who are still enrolled in post-secondary programs, drawing the line at funding anyone else out of high school this year.

Finally, the territorial government should consider using these scholarships as incentives to keep graduates working here for some time, which would be beneficial to this city and territory overall.

The government gets a failing grade on the way this was handled, but it's not too late for a rewrite.

My dad and I had a long talk over the phone shortly before he succumbed to cancer after being treated for six months for pneumonia.

He wasn't impressed with the change in attitudes he'd seen in the past two decades or so before his death.

He told me, "I don't know" and "I was wrong" seem to have become two of the most difficult answers for people to give in modern times.

To him, people were more likely to point the blame at someone else than accept responsibility themselves.

And they were certainly more likely to spread verbal fertilizer on an issue rather than admit they didn't know the answer.

Having served in the Second World War, he was hurt by how people still focused on their differences rather than their commonalities.

I now find myself thinking I may have been wrong to support former premier Paul Okalik so often.

I still feel Okalik did an admirable job as premier.

But his public comments are starting to lean towards arrogance and discrimination at best, and outright racism at worst.

I appreciate Hunter Tootoo's apology on behalf of the people of Iqaluit concerning Okalik's contention this past month that Environment Minister Daniel Shewchuk is incapable of representing Nunavut's interests because he's not Inuk.

Could the faculty at Ottawa University law school have felt Okalik was incapable of representing a modern justice system because of his Inuit heritage?

One would have to think not, as Okalik became the first Inuk called to the bar.

By his own admission - and understandably so - he found it hard being the only Inuk in law school and sought out the smartest people he could find to help him through.

Apparently, Okalik now places race ahead of intellect and experience when it comes to prioritizing one's qualifications.

It is disheartening to hear such comments from one of Nunavut's most distinguished politicians at a time when a new age of enlightenment has brought Nunavut its first female premier and the first African American president to the U.S. in history.

That's to say nothing of Okalik's snub of the democratic system, when Shewchuk was elected by the people of Arviat and chosen as a minister by an elected body representing all Nunavummiut.

The same system may be a long way from perfect, but it's effective enough to have afforded Okalik a second chance in life and supported him in becoming the public figure he is today.

Of course, the citizens of one of the most culturally-diverse nations in the world have differences.

It would be absurd to think otherwise. But, first and foremost, we are all Canadians.

And we share a special bond in Nunavut, Inuit and non-Inuit alike, because we all believe in its potential.

There is no room for patriarchy or dictatorships here.

We must work together, confident in our ability to see the person, their skill and capability - not the colour of their skin.

To say otherwise is madness brought on by mindless devotion to a single colour, and it's time to stop the madness.

Members of the legislative assembly are obligated to represent the people who voted them into office.

It's a duty vital to democracy that can't be turned on and off on a whim.

While in office, a hazard of MLAs' jobs is they are never off the clock. Their actions are scrutinized by the public and the media and they are expected to perform to high standards of character and accountability.

It's a heavy burden but one politicians accept willingly when they run for office.

Unfortunately, not all elected officials meet those standards. Most recently, News/North looked into the attendance record of our MLAs and revealed some have missed dozens of meetings and workdays.

The worst offender was Nunakput's Jackie Jacobson, who missed 35 workdays and more than 40 meetings. Kevin Menicoche, MLA for Nahendeh, was a distant second with more than 17 days absent and missing more than 20 meetings. Tied for third were Norman Yakeleya, Sahtu MLA, and David Krutko, Mackenzie South MLA, each with 11 missed meetings.

We all miss days for family emergencies, illness, etc. But, the rest of us can't miss days and weeks of work without consequences. No matter how understanding a boss you may have, if you miss work without good reason, you're going to start losing pay, assuming you still have a job.

MLAs make a minimum of $92,000 a year plus other benefits and allowances. The only punishment for missing work is the possibility they will not be re-elected at the end of four years. Re-elected or not, they still walk away with taxpayers' money they may not have earned.

The fact that MLAs can miss more than a month of work with zero consequence - regardless of the reason -- is gross abuse and an appalling oversight in policy.

They should lose a day's pay for a day's inexcusable absence. That's usually how it works in the real world.

News that dozens of rotting caribou were discovered by wildlife officials at multiple kill sites in the Tlicho region is disturbing. Wasting meat is not only illegal, it is an affront to Northern cultural values.

One of the most important lessons in aboriginal traditional teachings is a respect for land, water and animals. It is part of a doctrine that should be respected regardless of cultural heritage.

This case of meat wasting has raised questions about the strength of cultural teaching in NWT communities. Are young people becoming less adept at properly handling and butchering a kill?

Young hunters in the territory must learn from elders about how to respect wildlife and proper meat handling. If that is not enough, then more legal penalties are necessary.

A paltry fine of $500 does not send an adequate message. Doubling or tripling the fine for wasting meat will ensure people who hunt in our borders do so with respect and the skills necessary to harvest properly.

With Nunavut's 10th anniversary marked on April 1, there has been much reflection on how far this territory has come and how much farther it has to go.

The Government of Nunavut, under the direction of Premier Eva Aariak since last November, released a long-term vision called Tamapta last week. It sets out some general goals that anyone would be hard pressed to argue against: Better living standards for the poor, improved education and training and support for the land claims process.

There are, so far, few specifics outlining how those aims will be achieved. To their credit, they adopted a suicide prevention strategy early in the term, something the previous two territorial governments could not say.

Suicide remains a grim problem in Nunavut. It occurs at roughly 10 times the national average and is the second leading cause of death. While the effectiveness of the suicide prevention strategy won't be known for years to come, it's at least something.

Taking one's own life is often linked to alcohol and drug abuse. After 10 years, this territory still has no rehabilitation centre. That is unacceptable and must be dealt with.

In some cases, alcohol and drug abuse is fuelled by a low sense of self-worth. A person's sense of wellness can be hampered by living in overcrowded homes, a problem that the federal government has recognized but has set aside too little money to fully remedy.

Self-worth is also attached to having a purpose in life, usually a job allowing a person to earn an income and support a family. While unemployment rates remain high, the promise of mines near Rankin Inlet, Baker Lake, Cambridge Bay and Pond Inlet hold promise. There are incomes and valuable training attached to those mines, which must be properly managed to protect the environment. Learning from past ventures like Nanisivik and Polaris, Inuit organizations are now negotiating impact benefits agreements with the mining companies to realize greater benefits. This is progress.

But a diversified economy would make for a stronger Nunavut, and that's why further developing the fishery is necessary. In addition, greater promotion of this territory's talented artists would be helpful.

Just look at some of the emerging stars from this territory of 30,000 people over the past decade: Annie Pootoogook, Kenojuak Ashevak, Lucie Idlout, Susan Aglukark and Zacharias Kunuk.

They represent a mix of contemporary and traditional artists.

And tradition is still the glue that holds this territory together: carving, hunting, travelling on the land, throat-singing and speaking Inuktitut.

We should continue to demand that the government passes language and education legislation to strengthen our proud traditions. In the meantime, we shouldn't waste a day of the next decade learning and teaching all of those precious skills.

The territory has seen its share of gold-mining communities come and go.

Once the mine folds, so goes the settlement that housed its workers and managers. The operation is shut down, and the land on the site restored according to an abandonment and restoration plan.

Homes are dismantled, demolished or moved. A few specimens of such mine-site homes can even be spotted in Yellowknife, brought here to take on a new life.

A new lease on life is just what is needed for the empty homes at Giant Mine. These came into the spotlight last month, when nine of the 22 houses at the old mine site were vandalized.

Thoughtless as the act was, and criminal as some may believe it to be, the vandalism highlights the end that awaits vacant properties. The only way to keep them from becoming an eyesore of destruction left over from a past era is to put them to use again - by homeowners.

The Giant Mine homes, dating back as far as the 1940s, hardly make for a tourist attraction. Proposals to protect them as heritage homes that illustrate the history of Yellowknife, as argued by some members of the city's heritage committee, are only useful if the area is inhabited again.

Whether these houses are worthy of being designated as heritage is a moot point until they are proven worthy of attracting buyers - a good idea, in view of the city's persistent housing shortage. To accomplish that, the best of the houses must be restored, along with infrastructure and land in the area - to be made liveable. Short of that, the only fate fit for the Giant Mine homes is the usual one - to dismantle.

After years of bordering on obsolete, Caribou Carnival made a righteous comeback this year. Under the leadership of fresh young faces, such as those of Tiffany Gallivan, Jolene Hughes and Catherine McManus, the organization received a breath of fresh air along with some much-needed enthusiasm.

Visitors to the Carnival site this year were treated to a variety of activities and entertainment, including the cabane a sucre, handgames and even a beach volleyball tournament. Old-timers got a glimpse into what the carnival used to be, and newcomers got a taste of an age-old Yellowknife tradition.

Organizers and volunteers alike must be commended on a great job of reviving the carnival. However, it's no secret the event could have been much bigger. While the carnival needed about 200 volunteers, said McManus, only about 50 turned up.

Activities for next year are already being discussed. Should the Caribou Carnival Association find enough volunteers, popular activities such as the ugly truck and dog competition could come back.

The organizers have stepped up to the plate, and next year, they'll need more Yellowknifers to do the same. A few hours of volunteering means a lot to folks and their families who come out to enjoy the festivities.

There's something vaguely disconcerting about criminal trials in which members of the RCMP are before the court as the accused.

The uneasy feeling stems from the role that the police play in our society and the general perceptions that surround them. RCMP officers are supposed to be upholders of the law, figures who protect the rest of us from wrong doers and make sure the bad guys pay for their crimes.

As a result of their position of trust, the public holds members of the RCMP to a higher standard. They are expected to set an example for the rest of us. So when an RCMP officer is in court they're expected to be there as a witness for the Crown, testifying against the accused, they aren't suppose to be the accused.

At a recent trial in Fort Simpson, however, this was precisely the case.

Const. Colin Allooloo was in court for two days last week in the village facing charges of assault with a weapon. The charges are linked to an incident reported to have occurred on Sept. 16, 2006 when a teenage boy was allegedly pepper sprayed while in custody.

As in any case the purpose of the trial is to establish whether or not the incident took place as it has been described and if it did, whether the accused is guilty and what type of a sentence is needed.

The judge's verdict can't come quickly enough. The alleged incident happened two-and-a-half years ago and the charges were laid in March 2007. For all this time the incident has been hanging over the lives of those involved.

Since the charges were made public, the knowledge that something might have happened has also been part of the fabric of Fort Simpson and the surrounding communities the RCMP detachment serves.

The details of the pepper spraying given during the trial by the complainant are disturbing.

The complainant, who was only 16 at the time, said he was pepper sprayed twice while in custody. He testified that he was sprayed once while lying on the floor of his cell calling at the officers and the second time the floor of his cell was sprayed when two officers came in to remove tissue that he'd thrown on the surveillance camera.

It's testimony like this that draws the credibility of the RCMP as an organization into question.

That's why the legal proceedings, which have gone on long enough, need to reach a quick and decisive conclusion. If the judge rules the incident happened Allooloo will have to be sentenced and procedures will also have to be tightened or put in place to ensure something similar doesn't happen again.

The RCMP detachment in the village will also have a job before them to restore the public's faith, despite the fact that all but one of the officers who were serving there at the time of the alleged incident have since moved to other communities.

If the judge rules that the incident didn't happen as described, Allooloo's name will be cleared and, in part, so too will the RCMP's.

If Allooloo is found innocent it is unfortunate he has had to live with the stigma of this charge for such a long period of time.

The duration of this case is hard on everyone, especially members of the community who are left to wonder if they can trust the people charged with their protection.

Regardless of the outcome, however, the decision needs to come soon to allow the RCMP and the community to rebuild their relationship and reforge a sense of trust.

The Department of Justice should also review why it took so long for this case to go to trial.

I'm pretty sure I'm not alone when I say I was completely petrified upon hearing the deafening roar we were all treated to early Friday morning.

It was like a scene straight from the movie Armageddon -- not that I've seen it.

Like a terrified child, I was pinned to my bed, waiting for it all to pass. But it didn't, it just kept lingering. It was awful. I'd like to say I had enough courage to look out my window to figure out what was going on but I just couldn't.

Then suddenly it went away.

Laying in my pathetic state, I could sort of understand how the victims of those horrible Second World War air raid sirens must have felt.

For a brief moment I figured perhaps a space ship might have made a surprise landing in my back yard. Take a look at this week's Street Beat and you'll see I wasn't the only one petrified and left guessing what the heck just happened.

The thing is no one really seems to know what was making that horrific noise. One thing's for sure -- what ever it was, it flies.

So being slightly naive, I figured a quick call to National Defence headquarters in Ottawa would cure my curiosity, and everyone else's for that matter.

Not so.

Turns out my call to Ottawa was directed to Sub-Lieut. David Lavallee who's based in Winnipeg and answers these sorts of questions. His response came via e-mail.

"We do have aircraft currently operating in the Inuvik area, as part of an ongoing mission. For reasons of operational security, however, I cannot go into any further detail, as we do not discuss current operations. Thank you for contacting us."

So there you go. Satisfied?

Now I'm not sure about you, but this response does little in the way of putting me at ease, especially given the fact that a few Russian bombers were intercepted about 100 km outside of Tuktoyaktuk and sent back home by our own military jets a few weeks ago.

From what I'm hearing, the Arctic sovereignty issue between us and them is far from dead. Speaking directly on the issue, our government said last week that it wouldn't be bullied by Russia.

It all seems a little scary.

What if what happen here Friday morning happened in Toronto, Ottawa or Vancouver? Naturally people would be freaking out and demanding answers. And I dare say a response such as Sub-Lieut. David Lavallee's wouldn't go down too well.

Anyway, maybe we had better get hardened to the sounds of roaring jet engines under the cover of night. I'm sure there's nothing at all to worry about, just a few top-secret military missions, that's all.