The $97 Million Lie: What Mark Phillips Was Really Hiding

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BY: Staff— Writer

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣.    

There is a particular kind of political lie that deserves special contempt. Not the lie of omission, where a man stays quiet about something uncomfortable. Not the lie of spin, where facts are bent and twisted until they resemble something more convenient. No — the lie that deserves the harshest judgment is the deliberate, constructed, point-by-point denial. The kind where a man looks his country in the eye and says, with the full authority of his office: this did not happen.
That is what Prime Minister Mark Phillips did on April 7, 2026.
And when a leader lies about money — specifically about where nearly one hundred million US dollars went, and why, and to whom — the question this nation must demand an answer to is not merely whether he lied. The question is: what is he hiding?

The Anatomy of the Lie

There is a particular kind of political lie that deserves special contempt. Not the lie of omission, where a man stays quiet about something uncomfortable. Not the lie of spin, where facts are bent and twisted until they resemble something more convenient. No — the lie that deserves the harshest judgment is the deliberate, constructed, point-by-point denial. The kind where a man looks his country in the eye and says, with the full authority of his office: this did not happen.
That is what Prime Minister Mark Phillips did on April 7, 2026.
And when a leader lies about money — specifically about where nearly one hundred million US dollars went, and why, and to whom — the question this nation must demand an answer to is not merely whether he lied. The question is: what is he hiding?

When Leaders Lie About Money, They Are Hiding Something

Let us state what should be obvious but is too often left unsaid in the polite language of political commentary: when elected officials lie about the movement of public money, they are not doing so out of embarrassment. They are not doing so because the truth is mildly inconvenient. Leaders lie about money because the truth about the money leads somewhere they do not want the public to go.

The question this nation must now ask — loudly, persistently, and without apology — is where does this particular truth lead?
A US$97 million settlement, reached quietly, on a project that has already ballooned past US$2 billion, does not materialize from nowhere. Settlements of this nature do not happen without months of negotiation, without legal teams, without approvals at the highest levels of government. Someone signed off. Someone knew. Multiple someones knew. And yet the Prime Minister of this country stood before the public and said: nothing happened.

Who authorized this settlement? At what point was the President informed? Was Cabinet consulted? Were the appropriate parliamentary committees notified — as Phillips himself insisted they would be, when he declared all payments were “reported to parliament”? If that assurance was true, then parliament knew about a payment that the Prime Minister was simultaneously denying. If it was false, then parliament was also deceived. Either answer is damning.

And what precisely were the “soil stabilisation works” and “delay-related provisions” at the heart of this settlement? The Wales site has been a source of concern for engineers and observers since construction began. Soil stabilisation failures on a gas-to-energy project of this scale are not minor technical footnotes. They are red flags that go to the very foundations — literally — of whether this project is being built correctly, safely, and with the oversight that public infrastructure demands. Were the right engineers engaged? Were the right materials used? Was the original contract sum itself based on accurate, honest assessments of the ground conditions at Wales? Or was the project priced to win approval, with the real costs to be negotiated quietly, in the dark, after the cameras had moved on?

These are not paranoid questions. They are the only responsible questions to ask when US$97 million changes hands in secret, and the head of government lies about it.

A Project Built in Darkness

The Wales Gas-to-Energy project has never been clean. From its earliest days it has been wrapped in the kind of opacity that, in a country with functioning accountability institutions, would have triggered independent investigations, parliamentary inquiries, and sustained public pressure.

The project was oversold to the Guyanese people as the answer to the country’s chronic energy crisis. Cheap electricity was the promise. Energy security was the vision. These were not small promises. In a nation where power outages remain a daily reality for thousands of households and businesses, the promise of reliable, affordable electricity is not a political slogan — it is a lifeline. People built businesses around that promise. Communities organised their expectations around that timeline.

And yet, delay after delay, cost overrun after cost overrun, the project has consumed billions while delivering almost nothing to the ordinary Guyanese family still sitting in the dark. The original timeline has long since passed. The original budget has long since been breached. And now we learn that nearly one hundred million dollars more was paid out in a settlement that the Government initially denied even existed.
At what point does a pattern become a verdict?

This is not a project that hit unexpected difficulties and responded with transparency and accountability. This is a project that has operated from the beginning as though public scrutiny is an inconvenience to be managed rather than a right to be respected. Every uncomfortable question has been deflected. Every delay has been explained away. Every escalating cost has been dressed up in language designed to minimise rather than clarify.

And now, a Prime Minister caught in a lie does not resign. Does not offer a full accounting. Does not commission an independent review. He simply adjusts his language, softens his previous denial into something that might, at a distance, resemble a correction, and carries on.

The Cost of Looking Away

There will be those who say this is politics as usual. That all governments do this. That Guyana’s development requires compromise, and that the energy project, whatever its flaws, is still necessary.

These arguments are the enemies of accountability, and they should be rejected with the firmness they deserve.

The argument that “all governments lie” is not a defense of lying — it is an admission that lying has become acceptable.

And in a young democracy, sitting on oil wealth that should be transforming lives across this country, the acceptance of that standard is not pragmatism. It is surrender. It is the surrender of every Guyanese who will never know exactly how much of their national inheritance was quietly settled away, in the dark, while their Prime Minister told them nothing was happening.
The argument that the project is “still necessary” is a distraction. No one is suggesting that Guyana does not need energy infrastructure.

What is being demanded is that the money spent building that infrastructure is accounted for, honestly, in full, to the people who own it. A lie about US$97 million does not become acceptable because electricity is important. If anything, it becomes more dangerous — because it tells contractors, consultants, and all those with their hands near the public purse that the cover of “national development” is wide enough to hide almost anything.

What Must Happen Now

This nation deserves more than a quiet walk-back and a percentage figure. It deserves answers.
Parliament must demand a full accounting of the Wales Gas-to-Energy project — every contract, every amendment, every settlement, every payment. The DAAB award that triggered this US$97 million settlement must be made public in its entirety. The legal basis for the settlement, the names of those who negotiated it, and the chain of approvals that led to it must be placed before the Guyanese people.

The Prime Minister, having been caught in a deliberate public falsehood on a matter involving nearly one hundred million US dollars of public money, should not be permitted to simply move on. There must be consequences. If he was instructed to lie — if this denial came from above — then the public deserves to know that too. If it was his own decision, then the public deserves to know that just as much.

And President Irfaan Ali, who leads this Government and under whose watch this project has accumulated secret settlements, denied payments, and a Prime Minister who lied to the nation — must speak. Not through a spokesperson. Not through a carefully worded press release. Directly, fully, and with the kind of accountability that the leader of an oil-rich democracy owes to its people.

The Wales Gas-to-Energy project was supposed to light up this country. Instead, it has illuminated something far darker — a government that treats public money as its private affair, and public truth as an obstacle to be managed.

Mark Phillips lied. Ninety-seven million US dollars is missing from the honest public record of this country. And until this Government explains — fully, openly, and without the shelter of percentages and careful language — where that money went and why it was hidden, every Guyanese should treat every assurance from this administration with exactly the skepticism it has so thoroughly earned.

The light that this project promised Guyana is not the light of cheap electricity. It is the harsh, unflattering light of accountability. And it is long overdue.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 ,𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

Reigniting a Quiet Nation

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When Power Goes Unchecked and Opposition Goes Quiet, the Nation Must Speak for Itself

BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

There is a dangerous silence settling over Guyana.

It is not the silence of contentment. It is not the silence of a people at peace with their government, satisfied with the direction of their country, or reassured by those who lead it. 

It is something far more troubling. It is the silence of resignation — the particular quiet that descends on a population that has begun to believe, however reluctantly, that its voice no longer carries weight.

That silence is not accidental. It is the natural consequence of two simultaneous failures: a government that has grown comfortable operating beyond scrutiny, and an opposition that has grown comfortable offering none.

Both failures are dangerous. Together, they are corrosive.

The Government: Authority Without Accountability

Democracies do not die in moments of obvious rupture. They erode — steadily, quietly, through the gradual normalisation of conduct that would once have triggered outrage.

What we are witnessing in Guyana today is not a sudden authoritarian turn. It is something more insidious: the slow, methodical expansion of executive confidence. Decisions are made with less consultation. 

Institutions are tested for their limits rather than respected for their purpose. Public disclosure is managed, not offered. Questions are deflected, not answered. And those who raise concerns are increasingly dismissed — not rebutted, but dismissed.

This is how democratic backsliding works. Not through a single dramatic act, but through accumulation. Each unchallenged overreach becomes the new baseline. Each unanswered question signals that questions need not be answered. Each institution that bends without breaking teaches power that bending is acceptable.

The oil wealth that was meant to be Guyana’s generational opportunity has instead become the political class’s most powerful instrument of control. Resource revenue creates the conditions for dependency. Dependency erodes dissent. And the erosion of dissent is precisely the environment in which authority without accountability takes root and grows.

This is not speculation. It is the observable pattern of resource-rich states across history, across continents, across political systems. Guyana is not immune to those patterns simply because it wishes to be. It is immune only if its citizens, its institutions, and its press refuse to allow them to take hold.

The Opposition: A Silence That Cannot Be Excused

But accountability cannot rest with the press and civil society alone. 

In a functioning democracy, the primary instrument of political accountability is an active, disciplined, and courageous opposition.

What Guyana has instead is a political opposition that appears to have confused survival with effectiveness.

Statements are issued. Press releases are distributed. Condemnations are offered. But the kind of organised, sustained, visible pressure that forces a government to reckon with consequence — that remains largely absent. And absence, in politics, is never neutral. It is always read as permission.

There is no shortage of legitimate grievances for an opposition to anchor itself to. There is no absence of public concern, no scarcity of issues that demand urgent and focused attention. The material for a serious accountability movement exists in abundance. What is missing is the will to build one.

That absence is a political failure of the first order. An opposition that does not hold the government to account is not merely ineffective — it is complicit. Not in intention, perhaps, but in effect. And in politics, effect is what matters.

The people of Guyana did not elect an opposition to manage their own irrelevance. They elected it to be the institutional voice of scrutiny, challenge, and alternative vision. When it falls short of that mandate, it does not merely fail itself — it fails every citizen who counted on it to speak when speaking was difficult.

The opposition must understand: the nation is watching not for what it says, but for what it does. Consistency, courage, and organisation are not optional features of an effective political movement. They are its foundation.

The Void That Is Created

When a government expands unchecked and opposition contracts in silence, a void is created.

And voids do not remain empty.

They are filled — by fatalism, by cynicism, by the creeping conviction that participation is pointless and engagement is futile. They are filled by the quiet withdrawal of citizens who once believed in the possibility of accountability and have slowly been taught not to. They are filled, eventually, by a political culture in which power is the only thing that matters because it is the only thing that appears to work.

That is the real danger now facing Guyana. Not a single scandal. Not a single policy failure. Not a single act of overreach. But the cultural shift that occurs when a population decides, collectively and quietly, that holding power to account is someone else’s problem — or no one’s problem at all.

Four years from the next election is not merely a timeline. For too many citizens, it has become an excuse for disengagement — a reason to wait rather than to act. But democracy does not operate on election cycles. It operates every day, in every institution, in every conversation, in every question asked and every demand made.

The space between elections is not a void. It is where accountability either lives or dies.

The Fourth Estate: Consequential, Not Comfortable

Into this space, the press must step — not cautiously, not partially, but fully and without apology.

Journalism was never designed to be a passive recorder of official positions. It was designed to be the mechanism by which citizens understand what power is doing in their name. When that mechanism functions well, accountability is possible. When it functions poorly — when it normalises silence, when it reports without interrogating, when it mistakes access for independence — democracy suffers consequences it may not immediately see but will eventually feel.

This is not a call for recklessness. It is not an invitation to abandon fairness, accuracy, or proportion. On the contrary, it is a demand for a deeper commitment to all three — because it is precisely the rigour of good journalism that gives it the moral authority to challenge power without apology.

What it does require is courage. The willingness to ask the questions that those in authority would prefer remain unasked. The discipline to follow a story not merely when it is convenient, but when it is difficult. The editorial resolve to resist the twin temptations of access journalism on one hand and performative outrage on the other — and instead pursue, consistently and seriously, the truth of what is happening to this country and why.

The press must connect the dots that official narratives leave disconnected. It must amplify the voices that power has learned to ignore. It must frame the stakes of what is happening with sufficient clarity that citizens who feel distant from politics can understand, concretely, what they stand to lose.

And it must do all of this with the moral seriousness that the moment demands — not as advocacy for any political faction, but as an act of service to the public whose right to know is not a courtesy extended by the powerful, but a cornerstone of democratic life.

A Nation That Must Choose

But ultimately — and this must be said plainly — no institution can substitute for the will of the people themselves.

The Guyanese people are not powerless. They are, in the most fundamental sense, the source of all legitimate authority in this country. The government derives its mandate from them. The opposition earns its relevance from them. Even the press operates at the pleasure of an informed and engaged readership.

When citizens disengage, they do not merely step back from politics. They step back from the source of their own power. And power, once ceded, is rarely returned without effort.

The task before the nation is not to wait for the right leader, the right election, the right moment. It is to refuse — now, consistently, loudly where necessary and quietly where effective — to allow the normalisation of silence to become permanent.

It is to demand accountability not as a political preference but as a civic obligation. To recognise that the erosion of democratic norms, however gradual, has consequences that compound over time. To understand that a generation that grows up without witnessing meaningful accountability learns, from that experience, not to expect it.

This is the inheritance that is at stake. Not merely the next election cycle. Not merely the next policy decision. But the political culture that will define what kind of country Guyana becomes — and what kind of citizens its children learn to be

The Measure of This Moment

History will not remember who was most comfortable during this period. It will remember who was most consequential.

It will remember whether the institutions designed to check power did so. Whether the voices charged with informing the public chose honesty over convenience. Whether ordinary citizens, in the face of what felt like overwhelming indifference, chose engagement over resignation.

The silence settling over Guyana is not inevitable. It is a choice — one being made, or not made, every day by those who govern, those who oppose, those who report, and those who simply live here and care about the country they inhabit.

The question this nation must answer — not in four years, but now — is whether that silence will be accepted, or whether there remain enough people willing to insist, with clarity and without apology, that Guyana deserves better.

It does.

And the time to say so is not later.

It is now.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

From Defections to Deflection: The Opposition’s Credibility Crisis”

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BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

Dr. Terrence Campbell’s recent call for a “united opposition front” would be easier to take seriously if it did not ring so hollow against the daily reality of opposition inaction and internal decay.

At a time when Guyanese are grappling with rising living costs, uneven distribution of oil wealth, and deepening concerns about governance, the opposition’s primary offering cannot be another round of speeches about unity. Unity, in this context, risks becoming a convenient slogan—one that distracts from a far more uncomfortable truth: the opposition has yet to demonstrate that it can effectively use the power it already holds.

The APNU, along with other opposition elements, occupies seats in Parliament. Those seats are not symbolic—they are tools of oversight, pressure, and accountability. Yet far too often, the opposition behaves like passive occupants, drawing salaries while failing to mount sustained, strategic challenges to the government they now accuse of overreach and inequity.

Nowhere is this failure more glaring than in Region 10. A prolonged governance vacuum persists, affecting citizens who are entitled to proper representation and administration. And yet, there has been no relentless parliamentary assault, no coordinated legal escalation, no sustained national campaign to force resolution. The issue lingers, quietly pushed aside, while the opposition pivots to lofty calls for unity.

But perhaps the most damning indictment of Dr. Campbell’s leadership—and by extension the broader opposition—lies not in what they say, but in who is leaving.

In recent times, no fewer than seven individuals who held positions at various levels of governance under the opposition have crossed over to the PPP. These are not fringe figures or casual supporters; these are individuals who sat within the machinery of opposition politics, who understood its inner workings, and who ultimately chose to walk away.

That is not a minor political inconvenience. That is a vote of no confidence.

Strong institutions do not hemorrhage leadership. Effective leaders do not preside over steady exits.

When individuals abandon their posts and align themselves with the very government the opposition claims is failing the nation, it raises serious questions about internal confidence, direction, and credibility.

Who, indeed, joins a political movement that cannot retain its own?

And more importantly—who follows a leader whose ranks are thinning from within?

Dr. Campbell’s call for a grand coalition, in this context, appears less like a strategic vision and more like an attempt to compensate for internal weakness. Before inviting others to the table, he must first explain why his own table is losing its occupants.

The invocation of historical figures such as Critchlow, Lachmansingh, Burnham, and Jagan only sharpens the contrast. These were leaders who built movements that attracted, mobilised, and retained people because they inspired confidence and delivered results. Collective action followed strength—it did not substitute for it.

Today, the pattern is the reverse. Issues are raised—whether it be the treatment of foreign workers, governance concerns, or economic disparities—but they rarely reach resolution. They are aired, repackaged, and recycled, while the public sees little evidence of tangible outcomes.

Even the call for supporters to remain calm when opposition figures engage each other betrays a deeper issue: a base that is unconvinced, fragmented, and wary. That is not a messaging problem—it is a leadership problem.

The accusations against the PPP/C—regarding state overreach, institutional pressure, and inequitable distribution of wealth—are serious and deserve scrutiny. But scrutiny requires more than rhetoric. It demands discipline, persistence, and results.
Guyanese are not waiting for another alliance announcement. They are waiting for leadership that functions.

If the opposition cannot hold its ground in Parliament, cannot resolve pressing regional issues, and cannot retain its own members, then calls for unity will continue to sound like what they increasingly resemble: a deflection from failure.

Before calling others to join, fix what is broken within.

Because unity without strength is not a strategy—it is an illusion.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

A plutocracy of local politicians, contractors, and businessmen

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BY: Hem Kumar

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

Let’s stop pretending. What is happening in Guyana today is not development — it is domination, repackaged and rebranded by a new class of elites who have learned that power in this country is not about service but control. We have replaced foreign masters with local ones who speak our accents, wave our flags, and still treat the majority of us as pawns in their wealth building experiment.

We are living in the age of the new empire — an empire built not by British plantocracy, but by a plutocracy of local politicians, contractors, and businessmen feeding off our oil and gold economy while half the country struggles to eat. The same colonial logic that kept our ancestors in chains now keeps our communities in poverty. It is built on dependency, fear, and a carefully managed illusion that this is the best we can do.

Every gala, every private ball, every glittering “fancy people” photo splashed across social media is a taunt — a display of wealth extracted from public resources that belong to the working class, the single mothers, the vendors, the teachers, the nurses and the pensioners who keep this country running. In a resource rich nation where more than 50% of citizens live below the poverty line, poverty is not  mere mismanagement. Poverty is a direct construct of policy.

The rot runs deep. We now have a state where loyalty outweighs integrity, where accountability is mocked, and where the same names keep circulating through political appointments, business deals, and government contracts. When corruption becomes culture, injustice becomes normal. And this normal is stifling our hopes and aspirations.

Even worse is how many have been conditioned to accept silence as safety. To question power is seen as disloyalty. To demand better is framed as ungratefulness. But we cannot let fear dictate our future. The same system that keeps us poor keeps us divided — racially, politically, and psychologically — because division is the easiest way to rule without resistance.

Let’s call it what it is: psychological warfare. When a government uses propaganda, patronage, and privilege to make citizens doubt their own worth, it is not leadership. It is manipulation. It is colonial control in national colours. We are meant to stay distracted, begging while they build empires in our name.

This is not the independence our foreparents fought for. Independence is not a slogan to be repeated on national holidays — it is a daily act of reclamation. It means refusing to let politicians and profiteers turn our resources  into their private ATM. It means demanding consequences for those accused of misconduct and corruption, no matter how high their office. It means believing that Guyana belongs to us — every one of us — not just the politically connected or the socially elite.

If we continue down this path, our children will inherit an empty state wrapped in the illusion of prosperity — an empire rebuilt on our silence. But silence is what sustains oppression. So let’s break it. Let’s organize, question, and resist the normalization of poverty in a country overflowing with natural wealth.

The empire never really rode off on their horses, but returned in their chauffeur driven SUV’s. And simply  learned to dance in white suits. But the people can still reclaim their power — if we remember that freedom is not given; it is demanded.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. — ✦—

Eating Well, Aging Better: Nourishing the Body for Lifelong Vitality

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BY: Staff— Writer

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣.

Aging is inevitable, but how we age is deeply influenced by how we nourish our bodies. It is a privilege many overlook. When healthy habits are neglected and nutrition is unbalanced, our metabolic age can outpace our actual years, showing up in reduced energy, weaker bones, dull skin, and declining mental clarity.

For women especially, the connection between diet and wellbeing is undeniable. The foods we consume play a critical role in maintaining vitality, supporting hormonal balance, and preserving skin elasticity. Central to this is managing inflammation, a key driver of accelerated ageing. Diets rich in antioxidants and anti-inflammatory compounds can help slow this process and promote graceful aging.

Foods That Support Healthy Aging

A vibrant, balanced diet begins with a variety of fruits and vegetables. Colourful produce is packed with antioxidants, vitamins, and minerals that combat oxidative stress, one of the leading causes of premature ageing. Locally available options such as pawpaw, West Indian cherries, pommerac, oranges, portugal, sweet peppers, and tomatoes are especially beneficial. Vitamin C-rich foods are particularly important, as they support collagen production, helping to maintain firm, youthful skin.

Hydration is another cornerstone of healthy ageing. The skin is largely composed of water, and dehydration can accelerate visible signs of ageing. Incorporating hydrating foods such as watermelon, pineapple, cucumber, lettuce, and mango can help maintain skin health from within. Soups, herbal teas, and nutrient-rich smoothies also contribute to hydration while delivering antioxidants that support overall wellness.

Whole grains and fibre are equally essential. Dietary fibre supports digestion, stabilises blood sugar, and plays a role in hormonal balance. It also contributes to gut health, which is increasingly linked to immune function and skin clarity. Simple additions such as oats, whole wheat flour, and fibre-rich snacks can make a meaningful difference in daily nutrition.

Foods to Limit for Better Aging

While nourishing foods support longevity, certain dietary habits can accelerate ageing when consumed excessively. These include high sugar intake, ultra-processed foods, excessive alcohol, fried foods, and high-salt diets. Moderation is key, as these foods can contribute to inflammation, metabolic imbalance, and long-term health complications.

A Lifestyle, Not a Quick Fix

Healthy ageing is not about chasing perfection or resisting time. It is about intentional living. Women who prioritise balanced nutrition, reduce processed foods, manage stress, and commit to consistent wellness practices often experience greater strength, confidence, and vitality at every stage of life.

Eating well is not just about adding years to life, but life to years.

Deadly Quake in Southern China Triggers Mass Evacuations and Transport Disruptions

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𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

BEIJING, May 18 — A magnitude 5.2 earthquake struck China’s southwestern Guangxi region early Monday, leaving two people dead, one missing, and forcing the evacuation of more than 7,000 residents in the city of Liuzhou, according to state media reports.
Authorities confirmed that four individuals were hospitalized following the quake, though none sustained life-threatening injuries. Emergency response teams remain engaged in ongoing search and rescue operations.
State broadcaster CCTV reported that 13 buildings collapsed as a result of the tremor. Railway officials have also warned of potential transportation disruptions as inspections of rail infrastructure continue.
Despite the damage, essential services—including communications, electricity, water, gas supply, and road traffic—are reported to be operating normally in the affected areas.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨. —✦—

The Noise Monitor and the Portrait: When Government Agencies Become Political Props

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BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

There is something deeply telling about the way governments reveal their true priorities — not in their budgets, not in their legislation, but in their posters.

The Environmental Protection Agency of Guyana, in partnership with the National Data Management Authority, recently announced the launch of a pilot noise monitoring and public warning system at Kitty Seawall. The technology itself — sensors that detect excessive noise levels in real time and trigger a public LED display warning — is, in principle, a sensible application of modern infrastructure to a longstanding civic irritant. Noise pollution is real. Its effects on health, community wellbeing, and quality of life are well-documented. A government agency deploying smart technology to address it deserves, at minimum, a fair hearing.

But then you look at the poster.

And when you look at the poster carefully — really carefully — something shifts. Because what the EPA and NDMA have produced is not a public information notice. It is not a civic announcement. It is not even a competent piece of government communication. What it is, stripped of its technical language and its official logos, is a campaign flyer. A political branding exercise. A taxpayer-funded advertisement for the presidency of Mohammed Irfaan Ali — delivered under the cover of environmental regulation.

The Portrait Problem

Let us be precise about what the poster actually contains, because precision matters here.

The announcement dedicates significant visual real estate — arguably the most emotionally arresting section of the entire design — to a full portrait photograph of President Ali, formally dressed, smiling, positioned against the Guyanese national flag. Beside him, in bold type, he is identified as “His Excellency President Mohammed Irfaan Ali.” Below that, a pull quote attributed to him reads: “Building a modern, resilient and technology-driven Guyana that works for every citizen.” Above the portrait, in italicised text, the poster states that the project is “Guided by the leadership and vision of His Excellency President Mohammed Irfaan Ali.”

None of that is necessary to inform the public about a noise monitoring pilot at Kitty Seawall.

Not a single word of it.

A member of the public who wants to know what the system does, where it is located, what noise thresholds trigger an alert, or what enforcement action follows does not need to know whose vision inspired the pole. They do not need a presidential portrait. They do not need an attributed quote about resilience and technology. What they need is practical civic information — and that, notably, the poster provides only in the most skeletal terms before pivoting back to political imagery.
This is not an oversight. It is a choice. And it is a choice that tells us far more about how this administration uses state institutions than any press conference ever could.

Agencies Are Not Surrogates

The Environmental Protection Agency exists to regulate, monitor, and enforce environmental standards on behalf of the Guyanese public. It draws its budget from the public purse. Its mandate is derived from statute, not from the preferences of any sitting president. When it produces public communications, those communications are — in the most literal legal and democratic sense — public property paid for by public money.

Using that platform to promote a political figure is an abuse of institutional function. It does not matter that the president is the head of state. It does not matter that the project may have received executive support or policy direction. What matters is that a regulatory agency has allowed itself to become an instrument of political image-making — and in doing so, has compromised the very institutional credibility it depends on to do its job.

Enforcement agencies only work when the public believes they are neutral. When the EPA arrives at your business to issue a noise violation, the legitimacy of that action rests on the assumption that the agency is acting on the law, not on political instruction. The moment an agency begins visually associating itself with a political figure — the moment it starts attributing its own regulatory functions to the leader’s “vision” — that neutrality corrodes. And once institutional credibility corrodes, it is extraordinarily difficult to rebuild.

The Pattern Is the Problem

This would be easier to dismiss if it were an isolated incident. It is not.

The personalisation of state functions around the presidency has become a defining feature of how this administration presents its governance. Infrastructure projects, social programmes, technology initiatives — they arrive in the public domain not as the work of institutions, but as expressions of presidential vision, presidential leadership, presidential generosity. The individual displaces the institution at every turn.

This matters because democratic governance is supposed to work the other way around. The institution is supposed to be larger than the individual. The EPA is supposed to outlast any president. The NDMA is supposed to serve successive administrations without becoming identified with any one of them. When agencies begin producing materials that fuse their institutional identity with the political identity of the current head of state, they are not strengthening governance. They are weakening it — by making themselves dependent on political proximity rather than public trust.

What the Poster Does Not Tell You

Beyond the politics, it is worth noting what this elaborate, visually sophisticated, officially stamped poster conspicuously fails to explain.

It does not tell you what the specific decibel threshold triggers the alert. It does not explain what happens after the LED display warns that noise levels are loud — who is notified, what powers are exercised, what due process exists for a business or individual cited for a violation. It does not describe how long data is retained, who has access to it, or whether the monitoring system has any recording or surveillance capacity beyond audio levels. It does not explain how the pilot will be evaluated, what metrics determine success, or what criteria will govern the decision to expand the system to other public locations across Guyana.

These are not minor technical footnotes. They are the substance of the policy. They are the questions that determine whether this is a genuine public interest initiative or a piece of visible governance — the kind that looks active and modern in a photograph but operates without the transparency that real accountability requires.

A government serious about noise regulation would lead with that information. A government serious about public trust would make those answers easy to find. Instead, we got a presidential portrait and a slogan.

The Irony Is Deafening

There is a particular irony lodged at the heart of this episode that deserves to be named plainly.

The stated purpose of the noise monitoring system is to reduce unwanted, excessive, intrusive noise in public spaces — to protect the community from disturbance it did not ask for and cannot easily escape. The poster announcing that system is itself a form of political noise: loud, intrusive, impossible to mistake for something neutral, and entirely unrequested by the citizens it claims to serve.

The LED board on that pole at Kitty Seawall reportedly displays the words: “NOISE LEVEL LOUD. PLEASE KEEP THE AREA BELOW THE NOISE LIMIT.”

Someone at the EPA might want to read that message twice.

What Should Happen

This editorial is not an argument against noise regulation, or against technology-assisted enforcement, or even against this specific pilot project. If the system works as described, if it is governed by clear legal thresholds, and if enforcement is applied consistently and transparently, it could represent a genuine improvement in how Guyana manages shared public spaces.

But the EPA and NDMA owe the public more than a promotional poster and a presidential portrait. They owe a published framework: the legal basis for enforcement, the technical specifications of the system, the data governance policy, the complaints and appeals process, and a clear account of how the pilot will be independently evaluated before any expansion is authorised.
And they owe the public a commitment — stated clearly and upheld consistently — that government agencies in Guyana exist to serve citizens, not to serve as backdrops for political branding.
Until that commitment is demonstrated, every poster like this one is evidence of its absence.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦—

Trapped, Unpaid, and One Dead: Guyana’s Test of Accountability

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BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

One man is dead. Thirty-seven others say they are trapped—without pay, without passports, and without a way out.


If the accounts emerging from a mining operation run by Ekaa Hrim Earth Resources Management are substantiated, then Guyana is not dealing with a labour dispute. It is confronting allegations consistent with forced labour and human trafficking—unfolding in real time, under the watch of the State.

The men, speaking on camera, allege that they have been denied adequate food and water, gone unpaid for months, and had their passports confiscated. Several report being told they must pay US$5,000 to secure their release. Some further allege that threats were made against them, including by individuals they identified as members of the Guyana Police Force.

Sarju Bhaskar

One of those men, Mr. Shekhar Chatri (also reported as Chetri), is now dead.

At this stage, the question is no longer what the workers are saying. The question is what the Government of Guyana is doing.
Minister of Labour Joseph Hamilton cannot afford silence or delay. The allegations, as described, align directly with indicators of trafficking under the Trafficking in Persons Act No. 2 of 2005. This demands immediate intervention—on-site inspection, worker protection, and enforcement action where warranted.

Minister of Home Affairs Onedige Waldron, under whose portfolio the Trafficking in Persons Unit operates, must ensure that this matter is treated as a potential criminal investigation, not an administrative inconvenience. The Unit exists for precisely these scenarios. Its response—or lack thereof—will be read as a measure of the State’s seriousness about combating trafficking.

The Guyana Police Force, already named in allegations by the workers themselves, cannot be left to operate without independent scrutiny. Where there are claims of police involvement or intimidation, the Police Complaints Authority must be engaged immediately, and any implicated ranks removed from operational proximity to the case pending investigation.

And President Irfaan Ali cannot remain a distant observer.
The President stood at the commissioning of this very enterprise, lending it the authority and legitimacy of the State. That moment matters now. Public endorsement carries public responsibility. The Office of the President must ensure that no entity operating under that umbrella is permitted to violate the law with impunity.

This is not about presuming guilt. It is about demanding accountability.
Ekaa Hrim Earth Resources Management is not an unknown operator. It controls over a thousand acres of leased land, operates across multiple sectors, and is institutionally connected, including through publicly acknowledged ties to Texila American University under the leadership of Sarju Bhaskar. This is a company embedded within Guyana’s formal economic and regulatory structure.

Which raises an unavoidable question for the Guyana Geology and Mines Commission (GGMC): what oversight has been exercised over this concession? What inspections have been conducted? What compliance failures allowed these alleged conditions to persist to the point of death?

If the State cannot account for conditions on licensed land, then licensing itself becomes meaningless.
Beyond the immediate human cost, there is a wider national consequence. Allegations of passport confiscation, debt demands, and restricted movement fall squarely within internationally recognized indicators of trafficking under the UN Palermo Protocol. If validated, this case places Guyana at risk of being associated—not rhetorically, but evidentially—with systems of exploitation it has long claimed to reject.

That reputational damage is not abstract. It affects investor confidence, international partnerships, and the country’s standing in global human rights assessments.
But more importantly, it speaks to who we are willing to be.
Guyana’s history carries the weight of labour exploitation—from slavery to indentureship—systems built on control, coercion, and the denial of freedom. The patterns described by these workers, if proven, are not relics of that past. They are warnings in the present.
The difference now is that the law is clear, the institutions exist, and the evidence is being recorded in real time.

What remains uncertain is whether those in authority will act.

The Government does not have the luxury of cautious delay. It has an obligation to move—immediately, transparently, and without regard to political or personal association.
Secure the workers. Return their documents. Ensure they are paid what they are owed. Investigate the death. Pursue criminal liability where the evidence leads.
Anything less risks sending a message that in Guyana, exploitation can take root behind the façade of legitimacy—and that those responsible may rely on proximity to power to shield them from consequence.

One man is already dead.
There are others still inside that operation.

What is done next will determine whether this country confronts this moment—or becomes defined by it.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦—

Crossfire Misses the Mark on Cost of Living Reality

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BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

The Chronicle’s recent Crossfire column attempts to reassure Guyanese that the government has the cost-of-living crisis firmly in hand. It is a comforting narrative—but one that drifts too far from the daily reality confronting citizens.

Across the country, the story is not one of stability or relief. It is one of stretching paychecks, cutting back on essentials, and navigating a steady rise in the price of basic goods. For many households, the question is no longer about economic theory or global trends—it is about whether income can keep pace with survival.

The column leans heavily on government initiatives—cash grants, fuel interventions, and manifesto commitments—as evidence of a “structured and deliberate” response. But listing measures is not the same as proving effectiveness. Where is the data showing that these interventions are meaningfully reducing the burden on households? Where is the transparency on how prices are trending relative to wages?
To suggest that these efforts are sufficiently cushioning citizens is, at best, premature—and at worst, dismissive of the lived experiences of thousands of Guyanese.

Yes, global pressures are real. Supply chain disruptions and imported inflation affect small economies like ours. But invoking external forces cannot become a convenient shield against accountability. Governments are elected precisely to manage these pressures, not to explain them away.

More troubling is the column’s attempt to discredit dissent. Labelling critics as “misinformed” or driven by social media attention is a familiar tactic, but it does little to address the substance of public concern. People are not speaking out because they are confused; they are speaking out because they are feeling the pressure in real terms—at the market, at the pump, and in their monthly bills.

In any functioning democracy, opposition voices and public criticism are not irritants to be dismissed—they are signals to be examined. If anything, the persistence and volume of these concerns should prompt deeper inquiry, not defensive rhetoric.

The government’s broader development agenda—highlighting infrastructure expansion, tourism growth, and declining youth unemployment—may point to macroeconomic progress. But macroeconomic indicators do not pay grocery bills. Growth that does not translate into improved purchasing power risks becoming an abstract achievement, disconnected from everyday life.
What is notably absent from the Crossfire narrative is urgency. There is little acknowledgment that current measures may be insufficient, or that more targeted, immediate interventions are required. Price monitoring must be strengthened. Support for local food production must move from promise to measurable output. Wage growth—particularly in the public sector—must be seriously addressed.


Instead, the column asks for patience, assuring citizens that more help is on the way. But patience is not a policy. It is a request—and one that becomes harder to justify when relief remains uneven or delayed.
Guyana is not short on resources or ambition. What is needed now is sharper execution, clearer accountability, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. The cost-of-living crisis cannot be managed through optimism alone.
If the government is indeed “actively engaging” this issue, then it must also be prepared to answer hard questions about outcomes—not intentions.


Because for the average Guyanese family, the measure of success is simple: can they afford to live with dignity? Right now, too many would answer no.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦—

Iran is weaponising the world’s hidden digital chokepoint

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BY: Hem Kumar                               

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

Iran’s threats to the Strait of Hormuz should be understood as more than another round of brinkmanship over shipping lanes.

They point to a broader geopolitical shift: power in the Middle East is increasingly being exercised not just through missiles, mines and tankers, but through the hidden infrastructure that keeps modern economies running. Under the sea, fibre-optic cables carry the digital traffic of finance, trade, diplomacy and intelligence. That makes Hormuz not only a maritime chokepoint, but a data chokepoint too.

For decades, the world has treated the Strait of Hormuz as a passageway for oil. That remains true: roughly one-fifth of global petroleum liquids pass through it, which is why every crisis in the Gulf sends energy markets into a nervous spasm. But the strait’s strategic meaning has widened. Subsea cables now run through nearby waters, linking the Gulf to Asia and Europe and giving the region’s economies access to the internet backbone on which banking, logistics, cloud computing and government systems depend.

The vulnerability is obvious once you look for it, which is precisely why it has been so easy to overlook.
That is what makes Iran’s posture so consequential. Tehran has spent years learning how to weaponise geography. In the past, that meant harassing tankers, seizing ships, or threatening to close Hormuz outright. Now the target set is broader. If the sea lanes are the economy’s bloodstream, the cables are its nervous system. Disrupt one and you create panic; disrupt both and you compound uncertainty.

Even without cutting a single cable, the mere suggestion that Iran might do so can raise risk premiums, unsettle investors, and force governments and companies to think about worst-case scenarios they previously filed under theoretical.
This is not just about technical damage. It is about strategic signalling. Iran does not need to sever every cable to gain leverage.

It only needs to convince its rivals that it can. In a region where perception is often as powerful as hardware, that is enough to alter behaviour. Gulf states depend heavily on stable digital links for finance, state administration, aviation, energy, and the data-heavy economies they are trying to build. The prospect of even temporary disruption introduces a new layer of pressure on governments already trying to manage conflict, deterrence and domestic expectations at once.

The wider danger is that the Strait of Hormuz becomes a model for future coercion. If one state can threaten subsea cables in a global chokepoint, others will study the lesson. The oceans are full of hidden infrastructure, and many of those systems are poorly defended, hard to repair and difficult to monitor at scale. That is a structural weakness in the architecture of globalisation. The world built a hyperconnected economy without giving enough thought to how fragile the physical layers beneath it really are. The result is that a crisis in one narrow waterway can ripple far beyond the region, affecting everything from payment systems to satellite coordination to the timing of container shipments.

The geopolitical implications are particularly severe because the Persian Gulf is already one of the world’s most militarised theatres. A move against subsea cables would blur the line between conventional conflict, economic warfare and cyber operations. It would also widen the circle of stakeholders. Europe, Asia and the United States all have an interest in keeping Hormuz open, not only for energy flows but for digital continuity.

That means any escalation could draw in outside powers more quickly and with less warning than in previous crises. A cable attack would not be a local incident; it would be read as a challenge to the stability of the global system itself.
There is also a dangerous asymmetry at work. Iran can create disruption relatively cheaply, while repair, rerouting and resilience cost others far more. A navy can escort tankers, but it cannot instantly protect every stretch of seabed. Cable repair ships are few.

Permits, access and security all slow recovery. That asymmetry is exactly why the threat matters. In modern geopolitics, the side that can create uncertainty faster than its opponents can restore order often gains the upper hand, even without winning a battle in the traditional sense.
The lesson for the West and its Gulf partners is uncomfortable.

Deterrence in the 21st century cannot be confined to missiles and minesweepers. It must extend to the physical infrastructure of connectivity: redundant cable routes, faster repair capacity, stronger monitoring, and closer coordination between governments and private operators. Yet even that is only partial insurance. Because the deeper issue is not simply vulnerability, but interdependence. The global economy has become so dependent on a handful of narrow passages, both maritime and digital, that regional conflict now has systemic consequences.

Iran understands this. By turning the world’s attention to the undersea cables beneath Hormuz, it is reminding its adversaries that power in the age of networks is exercised in layered ways. Control the sea, and you influence oil. Threaten the seabed, and you unsettle data, finance and communication. The real risk is not that Iran will literally unplug the internet, but that it will exploit the fragility of the infrastructure on which the world’s confidence depends.

That is the geopolitical message of Hormuz now: the age of chokepoints is not over. It has simply gone underground.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦—