Street exchange rate: $15,000 for $1.6 million

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Street exchange rate: $15,000 for $1.6 million


OPINION BY: GHK LALL— September2026

It’s unbelievable.  Try wrapping head around this: 90 feet of cable worth $1.6 million bartered for $15,000.  It’s the new street exchange rate that allows a man to eat.   I don’t know about powder or smoke, not going near those two.  After all, I have told this to Drs. Ali Mr. Food Security, Dr. Jagdeo  Mr. Food Psychology imagine being full, and not famished until blue in the face: a hungry Guyanese cannot eat concrete, cement, or sand, i.e., roads, bridges, and culverts.

People in this place are hungry.  A hungry man is a desperate man.  Grabbing ninety feet of heavy-duty copper cable weighing 30 pounds could not have been an easy feat.  With so many eyes watching.  With so many lights around.  But a hungry man somehow digs deep, finds that last ounce of superhuman strength.  Plus, the adrenaline gushing in torrents.  I would slap him around for the drugs, but give him a pass for the food.  Because that’s reality in oil rich PPP Guyana. 

A citizen so hungry, that he faces danger with aplomb, lugs 90 feet of cable that weighs dozens of pounds, so that he can get a bite to eat. 

If I were among the leaders in the PPP Govt, I would hang my head in shame, have difficulty facing the poor people of Guyana.  All these billions, and a citizen is forced to steal to sate the pangs of his hunger, so that he could survive to tomorrow.

Mothers shoplifting milk for their children.  Mothers cutting their fingers when slicing whatever they have.  To spread it around, so that all the children get something to take to school for lunch or the lessons that come later.  Meat and fish are usually off the menu, whatever the mothers are slicing.  Too expensive.  Too out of reach.

I am thinking of this national embarrassment, this governmental humiliation.  In a land of abundance-rich stats, richer leadership rhetoric, and the richest cash flow in its history-there are those who are compelled to scrounge to make it through another day.  Is the president listening?  Is he still seeing political motives in every statement, around every corner, behind every shadow?  Whatever the president sees, he should peel away the scales from his eyes, and see that man from Albouystown breaking the law, and pilfering a load of copper wire to reduce the gnawing wrenching that stretches from his esophagus to his duodenum.  Hunger is a hurting thing.  It’s not Lou Rawles, it Guyana’s cruel environment

Look at this tragic episode in the life and times of this dazzling new era in Guyana’s existence.  To lift himself out of hunger’s ferocious grip, a man has to break the law.  To the PPP Govt, I say.  Argue about true rate of poverty.  Hide that statistic.  Boast about cash grant.  Extol PPP Govt wisdom and generosity. Then face this set of unyielding facts and circumstances: how many more Guyanese are engaging in below the radar, petty theft, to make ends meet, to put a pot on the fire? 

How many citizens of this glorious Republic are rummaging in either private or public receptacles to see how lucky they could get, if they would hit the jackpot today?  Meaning, a slice of leftover bread or bake thrown out for the pickup people to haul away?

Hunger is transforming Guyanese into lawbreakers.  How many caught?  How many have the book of justice thrown at them, put away?  An injustice, from my perspective, when leaders live like lords of the manor, flitting from one banquet to another, guzzling the fat of the land.  Fat that first belongs to the Guyanese people, and not their abusers and deceivers.

The question I have is what is Guyana’s justice system to do with this copper cable thief?  Make him an example?  What is the PPP Govt going to do with him?  Probably, make him into a monster, then sell that as a Xmas toy to scare the children.

Donald Trump, Irfaan Ali: what differentiates, who imitates?

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Donald Trump, Irfaan Ali: what differentiates, who imitates?


OPINION BY: GHK LALL September 2026

I have long observed Presidents Donald Trump and Irfaan Ali.  Who’s the leader, who the imitator?  Which one is the pretender, or are they both?  Because of the grand and glorious natures of both Pres Trump and Pres Ali, the great pretender is more appropriate.  The competition between the two is for the crown of who is the greater pretender.  It’s a close call, almost a photo finish.   Consider.

Pres Trump just finalized a secret deal with Venezuela, with a hapless and helpless President Delcy Rodriguez dragged along, while trying to keep her slip from showing.  He instantly proclaimed it as the best oil deal ever.  Mosey on over to Guyana, and there is Pres Ali’s PPP Govt.  According to Guyana’s Ali, his PPP Govt is the most transparent in Guyana’s history. 

The pressures of his high, demanding, office made him forget access to information; Exxon audits; and cost-of-living stats distorted. . 

An American and a Guyanese, both leaders who discredit themselves appallingly without any help from others, claiming to be the best in class, the best ever.

Pres Trump has visions of Making America Great Again.  He succeeded.  In reimaging the KKK and reselling it as MAGA.  Though no cone hats and white sheets for their uniform, there’s still white heat generated by a storm of white supremacy.  I wonder how many of those characters are resident in Duke Street and Ogle.  So that all Guyanese get my point, the U.S. Embassy and that projection of American imperial power, Exxon, respectively.  Exxon’s red, white, and blue colors are not accidental.  I should be proud.

In Guyana, Pres Ali very much likes the idea that he is the greatest.  He isn’t named Mohamed I. Ali for nothing.  Whereas, Mr. Trump has MAGA, Mr. Ali has One Guyana.  Renegade Indians, tribal traitors, and parasites and naysayers from Guyana’s other tribes are not welcome inside the One Guyana tent.  Though separated by 2500 miles of ocean and islands, the American Donald Trump and Guyanese Irfaan Ali are the closest reproduction of those Siamese marvels that’s been my joy to encounter. 

 To this point, the thrust has been that when Trump and Ali are lined up side-by-side, what differentiates?  What separates?

Candidate Trump campaigned on a pledge to end wars.  On assuming office, he promptly discarded that pledge and runs with one of the biggest moneymakers for the Republican base Wall Street and America’s sprawling military-industrial complex.  When there are no grounds for war, he manufactures one.  Perhaps, he meant the thought of war, and not the practice of it. 

Candidate Ali campaigned on a pledge to review and renegotiate all contracts.  On assuming Guyana’s presidency, he declared war on Guyanese interests, by settling for newfound solace in sanctity of contract.  Identical to how Trump pays his debts to America’s war machine and business interests, so also Ali’s halter wrapped around his neck compels him to pay PPP indebtedness to America; those commitments made to Pompeo, Lynch, and others of that cabal.

Pres Trump has issued pardons left and right to insurrectionists and subversives.  Those who laid waste to the Capitol in Washington, in the manner of Atilla the Hun and Alaric the Visigoth.  Vandalism doesn’t come near to covering that wreckage.  Yet, presidential pardons and Republican no objections have since led to those being doled out like donuts and free coffee. 

Pres Ali and his PPP have a cabinet, a Congress, a consulate or two, and a cohort, where there’s no need to look too long, or research too hard, to find terrorists, stalkers, predators, assassins, financial felons, and corrupters.  Like America, so Guyana.  Somehow those outstanding Guyanese emerge with untarnished hands and sanitized characters, compliments of some mysterious PPP pardoning process.  Purest Guyanese patriots.

Both Presidents Trump and Ali see the free and independent sections of the media as an enemy to be vanquished.  Both Trump and Ali see the judiciary in a certain light, have their uses for it.  Both leaders boast a compulsion to the outlandish and outrageous.  Both seem to think nothing of immersing themselves in the injurious and infantile.

Summation time.  In considering all this, the two earlier questions return reinforced.  Donald Trump and Irfaan Ali: who is the leader, who the imitator?  What differentiates, what separates?  One more: who came first, who owns first place?  A progressive, everyone.

Playing The PPP Game, Then Distancing, Last Indifference

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Playing The PPP Game, Then Distancing, Last Indifference


OPINION BY: GHK LALL— September 2026

There’s a human tragedy.  Cotton Tree and two cousins.  Across Mandarin Bridge and an 11-year-old-child.  Police killings in Linden.  And, more lately, a boat that went down and took down over 100 Guyanese lives.  Poor ones.  The rich ones and big ones don’t sail, they soar.  A flight is ‘fine change’ for them.  The PPP Govt has a practice. 

Entourages roll into communities, before families.  Amidst human tragedy, caravans, and human dramas.  Political ones that follow a canned formula, a set procedure, what are now standard operations.  Follow the threads.

Visits.  Handholding.  Solemn expressions.  Proper clothing.  Words and carriage matching.  Police or politicians.  By golly, the PPP creates new science.  All that’s desired is truth and justice.  Hopes for truth and a sincere quest for justice are all that’s placed before visitors and professional mourners.  Political ones are the best.  Done!  Will be done! 

Guaranteed with seal of public oath affixed.  Repeated.  Cotton Tree.  Tuschen.  Linden.  The national tsunami that was the capsizing, plunging, horror of the MV Barima.  Hope still stirs, springs.  Out of tragedy’s agonies, there will be duty to the people.  Truth and justice delivered.  Finality that brings blessed closure.  The ghosts of the stricken, fallen, find peace.  So, also the savaged spirits of families and communities.  So, begins and ends chapter one in the Guyana story of when tragedy stalks and the PPP Govt mount its rescue operation.  The first objective transcending all others is damage control.  Limit the spread.  Manage flareups that could incite more fallouts.

Chapter two reveals the hypocrisies that ran deep amid the solemnities, mourning, grieving, the speechmaking celebrating Guyanese resilience.  Theater in full swing, free political matinees for the masses.  Now, there’s distancing.  The machinery takes over.  PPP stars who were in the forefront, retreat, take distant seats.  To make themselves invisible, no stains reach. 

A commission will be.  Guyanese hope.  The team is announced.  I discern a foul.  The sham registers deeply.  Are those the best?  Would this deliver?  What about trust?  Poor precedents exist.  Can’t be denied or wished away.  Try two: inferno, police mishaps.  The fire killed children; gunfire killed adults.  Whatever the objectives of those blood sacrifices, this is incontestable: the dead is still dead.  Something is conspicuous.  Where are those who were in the grieving vanguard?  To where have they disappeared?  Practice and process are the new headliners, with the right breed of people in place.

Prior whitewashes set to be repeated.  One dead, two dead, a hundred dead, it’s only a number.  Nothing to get worked up about.  It’s the new line of those who promised truth and justice.  That is, if they break their silence, narrow their distance.  Gruesome murders are ancient history.  A child drowned in mysterious circumstances, and the usual business continues.  Killings by the State, roll with them.  A hundred sent to their death, through criminal negligence at every level. 

Yet those fingered are three poor working men, left with no choice.  Perhaps, that calumny (an official crime by itself) is all the truth and justice that families and Guyanese will ever get.  A travesty amidst tragedy.  Thus, the concerted effort at distancing.  Put a COI in the middle, one that developed a hernia and emergency appendicitis.  But that’s not all; a ruff case of tonsilitis has affected the Barima COI.  Can’t move.  Can’t talk.  Can’t collect its wits, can’t get its wheels rolling.  A month later.

Stretch out, so that there can be proper straining out.  The negatives.  The inconveniences.  The revealing memories.  A month later, and there is official indifference.  It’s the COI business, not that of leadership.  It’s of dead Guyanese.  Nobodies.  Why work up a sweat?  Why go near to what can bite?  Indifference confirms what I always pegged to insincerity.  Hypocrisy.  The pretense of shared pain overcome by political indifference.  The MV Barima is dynamite.  Whoever goes near to it risks being blown up.  Thus, the distancing first, and now the indifference.

Cruelty amid raw tragedy.  The reprehensible walking side-by-side with the indefensible.  The PPP way of life.

MV Barima -Silence and Sloth

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MV Barima –Silence and Sloth (real Terms of Reference)

OPINION BY: GHK LALL September 2026

The death plunge of the MV Barima qualifies as a national catastrophe; an unprecedented local human tragedy.  Obvious beyond argument, above denial.  Yet, in its grim aftermath, there’s the reverse of what should be happening.  With intensity and honesty.  With frequency in duty to families and country.  Where, when, and how have those been?  Instead, the strategies and tactics of PPP Govt operators have centered on two prongs that sabotage a disaster of this numerical, emotional, grimness. 

The prongs are silence and sloth.  Both have slippery, tricky objectives.  Both also represent another fork with two pointed horns.

Silence in this small country for a tragedy as big as the MV Barima exposes its purveyors.  Resonates piercingly in the tiny national echo chamber.  From mouth to mouth and ear to ear.  Guyana is that interconnected.  Everyone is on the same time zone, the same platform.  Why silence?  What’s there to fear?  To hide?  The PPP brass should have learnt what other government did belatedly. 

Silence doesn’t suppress.  Silence attracts attention.  Silence intrigues.  Why silence after the great, excessive outpouring of manufactured pieties from the head-of-state to those who head nothing, to others who can’t account for their own heads?

Then, there’s the twin of silence.  Sloth is its name.  Astonishingly, sloth in the murky wake of 100 dead, and hundreds wrapped in wrenching mourning.  Like silence, what purpose sloth?  Sloth confirms that there is much to rearrange and reset; much to cleanup and coverup.  Sloth buys time and space.  Silence furnishes the blanket.  I foresee a Commission of Inquiry (COI) on a tortured journey to nowhere.  An indication of my contempt re delivery on its terms of reference.  Wherever the journey takes, make it look real.  Most importantly, chart a course that doesn’t take to the bottom of this Guyana horror story. 

I use nautical expressions.  For the MV Barima was of nautical life; and a nautical death that shouldn’t have happened, and what sits like a bloody crown on the head.

Getting to the very bottom of the MV Barima’s death spiral would raise up the worm-eaten, snake bitten, and the bitter.  Bodies are not involved.  A cruel and inhuman PPP Govt is.  Recklessness, criminal negligence, orphaned again.  Who would own up to such failures?  Which leader, which lackey? 

Hence, silence and sloth flourish.  Drag this COI out.  Go about its demands, expectations, on the quietest feet.  A month after the swearing-in of the COI, hands are still stuck on Bible, Koran, Bhagavad Gita.  (Or the Devil’s dictionary).  Scripture records some struck with dumbness or paralysis.  It is clear that both have taken up residence in MV Barima Guyana.

Gone but not Forgotten -several victims still unrecovered

The second jagged and twisted horn on the silence and sloth fork is less tangible, less immediate.  It is more ordinary, more of the usual that informs about Guyana so brilliantly.  The weaknesses of silence and sloth: they don’t fool, don’t work.  The deeper the silence, thicker the sloth, the longer that farm and its Garden of Eden inhabitants avoid the limelight, dodge the spotlight’s harsh glare.  Call this whatever pleases.  Skepticism.  Cynicism.  Hair-raising rhythms of Guyana’s political life.  Nothing is innocent, pure.  Guyanese taught how ulterior motives and hidden agendas are inseparable from official life.  I applaud the PPP.  A farm shielded, steered from harm’s way.  Momentarily only.  Silence and sloth on Barima afford space to move around, tidy up, and closeout loose grass on that farm.

Last, silence and sloth facilitate the eerie.  Create atmospherics, provide distance, instill dread.  Convert the MV Barima into a ghost ship.  Ancient superstitions unearthed.  Citizens flinch.  Speak in hushed, fearful tones.  Voices heard crying.  Shadows screaming for justice.  Observers on land shrinking, retreating.  Amid a grey, grim time, remembrance comes. 

The 1970s Argentinian junta conducted its Dirty War against Argentines.  In this century, the PPP wages its Dirty War on Guyanese.  Silence and sloth now weaponized against citizens. 

To its watery grave went the MV Barima and its human cargo.  To its unmarked grave that COI, with silence shrouding, and sloth contributing to its stillborn existence, and ghastly death.

 

 

 

 

Mac Maharaj – Guyana needs a few

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Mac Maharaj – Guyana needs a few


OPINION BY : GHK LALL —August 2026

Mac Maharaj.  Knew the name.  South Africa, Mandela.  Apartheid, the struggle.  Then, 592Guardian shared a piece on Saturday, and I realize that I didn’t know the man at all.  There’s a biography of him in the house, somewhere among the thousands of other books.  Must find and read.  If only to gather what made him tick, what made him stick through the barrage of brutality he absorbed.

Sathyandranath “Mac” Maharaj. A South African Revolutionary.

Thanks to 592Guardian, I got a sketch of Mr. Maharaj.  The fighter for freedom.  Against the depraved and bestial.  Long odds for people with a short stick, a few bricks, to stand in defiance against a well-equipped killer army coming after them.  With blood in its eye.  Hate in its heart.  And inhumanity in its corpse of a soul.  But Mac Maharaj was one of those men and women with an indomitable will, and a spirit that just couldn’t be defeated.  By racists of the worst sort.  By demagogues who would kill a man, and burn a village, then kneel in church, worship their gods, and go home to their families.

They hung him from the seventh floor of a high-rise building.  From a window he dangled, held by one ankle.  He didn’t cave.  For almost sixty days, he was tortured, then beaten unconscious, left with a paralyzed arm.  And still, this man of steel, Mac Maharaj, would not yield.  Not a whisper, not a syllable, would he give to his animalistic inquisitors.  Nothing.  Nothing.  After a dozen years in one of those South African dungeons and fortresses that was specially reserved for the hardheaded and hard of hearing, he was released from Robben Island.  To Swaziland, he escaped.  From there he carried on the fight that lasted just under two long, grim, unending decades more.

Mac Maharaj was a man among a band of glorious men and martyrs, a pack of patriots that never knew the word surrender.  Mandela and Tutu towered above them all.  South Africa is different because of them, and their sacrifices.  The world is a better place, for their unceasing fighting spirit.  They made a pact with the despairing, denied, and degraded Black and colored people of South Africa.  And they never walked back, never even looked back for a fleeting second.  The thought of crossing the floor and shaking hands with the devils (Malcolm X), never surfaced.  Despite the prods and electric shocks, the stone killers and the wormy white politicians.  They persevered through all the punishments that were thrown against them.

I cross oceans.  Redirect gaze from Capetown  to Georgetown.  What Guyana has makes me want to spit first, then puke.  Men and women made of mincemeat.  Froth.  And a financial calculator for a brain.  They throw in the towel, as soon as pressures brace.  They climb backsteps.  Roll across floors.  Lick boots.  Excellence in leadership.  When hunger multiplies.  While poverty stretches, intensifies.  Their own people betrayed and sabotaged.  It’s for the country.  I say it’s for the money.  I say it’s for the rewards of sucking up and brownnosing. 

And still thinking that there is no smearing.  Across face.  Across now rancid existence.  The simple people committed to, the simple people that trusted, now sold out for a clap on the back and a book of dirty deeds to do to prove oneself.

Where are their guts that don’t deflate, the stones in them that don’t shatter?  Cheddi Jagan and Walter Rodney could have plastered a foolish grin on their faces and toadied up to the powers of their time.  The thought never crossed, and neither did they.  What kind of men do Guyana have today?  But those that plot the quickest and easiest way out.  Why wait and miss the boat, find the gate closed?  Seize the moment and spring out like a jack-in-the-box to the life of a puppet, or some disparaged flunkey.  A mannequin on display in a lingerie showcase. 

The fight has gone out of those who signed up, who stood before the people, and swore to them: your pain is my pain, your struggle is mine.  Until they collapsed in cowardly submission.  Until the carrots dangled proved too much to resist.  Guyanese want life at the top.  Ease, no squeeze.  Crawling through mud and heat and sleaze is for people of stronger dispositions. 

More principled and patriotic makeup.  Like a Mac Maharaj, and a Mandela.  Guyana’s honest and honorable fell first.  The strong and the brave succumbed long before, and in more numbers now.

Constitutional Reform Comm. -Ram on the Rampage

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Constitutional Reform Comm. -Ram on the Rampage


OPINION BY :GHK LALL– August 2026

Chartered Accountant, attorney-at-law, and civil society watcher, Mr. Chris Ram, certainly went to town on the Constitutional Reform Commission (CRC) in Kiskadee Watch (“Carl Singh-led Constitutional Reform Commission is already a colossal failure with no reasonable prospect of redemption”) -August 24,2026.  A hammer to the head, that one is.  Mr. Ram’s list of failures is exhaustive, a commission far from reform mode, one afflicted by crises.  It would be interesting to hear how the CRC’s members respond.  I stand this way.

Two years post its swearing-in, there must be something to show.  Nothing.  Chairman Singh, SC, has a duty to differ, set the record in order.  Attorney General Nandlall, SC, spoke of holding people’s feet to the fire (my words), i.e., they must deliver.  Not on their timecard.  But through what gives value for money, moves the CRC forward.  Talk about money, and I swear.  Jesus Christ! Public service has always been bemoaned as an impoverishing undertaking. 

In contrast, public service is delicious in Guyana.  I look at Mr. Ram’s monthly compensation numbers and curse.  For doing what?  It’s a blasted parttime job done halftime, and the monthly payment numbers are in six figures, with the chair benefiting from an extra zero.  It’s a sweet setup.  The CRC had delivered, produced some substance, and I still would not agree at the level of remuneration for its members.  Where’s the output for the annual outlay of $74.4 million in compensation alone?  From my distance, it seems that real money only circulates at certain elevations.  I am only commenting on this, and I’m embarrassed at the abundance of riches.  If a minimum wage worker in Guyana delivered as much as the CRC, he would be out of a job.  It’s my take.

Also, why are some of them on the CRC?  Who in Guyana’s population are they representing?  Then, there’s the other side of that question.  A group that garnered almost 110,000 votes a year ago is locked out of the CRC, forced to look on. 

How can Guyana still be considered a democracy, when the state of the CRC and many other areas of vital national importance are this ramshackle? 

Personally speaking, Guyana is now nothing but a house of disputed repute.  I appreciate that when the CRC came into being political conditions were different.  No one saw coming what has been rightly labeled the seismic change.  It’s now a year since the last elections, and Guyanese voters have shown where they stand.  Why are the people with 110,000 votes effectively barred from being around the CRC table?  Why are others inside of the body, collecting what equates to free money?

Two more points before I go.  Mr. Ram mentioned that “the commission and its members are entitled to the same privileges and immunities as the National Assembly and its members.”  I am trying to grasp the extent of his meaning.  Does this mean that the 21 members of the CRC are each entitled to a duty-free concession?  If so, it’s the equivalent of sleeping on the job, then springing awake to run to the wharf to clear the next Mercedes on Guyanese taxpayers’ backs.  The CRC has gravitated to being an assignment with all the rewards, but with no returns forthcoming.  I would hide my face, leave through a backdoor.

Last point, recall my prior take about keeping the money in the family.  There’s the CRC secretary.  Given his attachment to the MV Barima Commission of Inquiry, he must be Guyana’s Superman and Spiderman combined.  A saver of distressed souls; and a scaler of vertical fortifications, through stockinged feet.  He is in the middle of a human tragedy and a boardroom catastrophe.  I think he’s the right man for both jobs. 

The output of the CRC gives an indication of what could be had from the Barima COI.  Guyana isn’t a country.  It’s a tragicomedy.  Ram presented splendid testimony.  I do some mopping up work.

The State That Cannot Say No

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The State That Cannot Say No


 EDITORIAL · INDIGENOUS RIGHTS & EXTRACTIVE GOVERNANCE

 BY : Hem Kumar –August 2026

At Tassawini, four days of blockade have exposed a legal architecture built to let mining outrun consent — and a government that keeps citing a ruling that never said what it claims.

For four days and nights, the residents of Chinese Landing have stood in the road at Tassawini, Region One, between excavators  and the land their community has held under absolute title since 1991. They are not there because the law is silent on their right to be consulted. They are there because the law has been read, again and again, in a way that makes their consent optional — and because the people responsible for closing that gap have spent a decade choosing not to.

Land Title, dated 24th April 1976, referenced on Plan #23703 Mining permit # 47798 with Annex 1 dated SEPT.25 1998.

This is not a new story, and that is precisely the point. Chinese Landing received communal title to its lands under the Amerindian Act in 1976, converted to an absolute grant in 1991. Between 1995 and 2001, the Guyana Geology and Mines Commission issued a prospecting license and four Medium Scale Mining Permits inside those titled boundaries to a Georgetown businessman, Wayne Vieira, without the consent of the Village Council. A short-lived agreement in 1999 saw Vieira pay tribute to the council for roughly a decade; it collapsed in 2009 over a disputed rate increase, and the conflict that has defined Chinese Landing for a generation began in earnest.

A RULING THAT SETTLED NOTHING, CITED AS THOUGH IT SETTLED EVERYTHING

The government’s standing defense, repeated by Minister of Natural Resources Vickram Bharrat as recently as this month, is that its hands are tied by a 2017 ruling of the Caribbean Court of Justice. On August 5, at a community outreach in Tassawini, Bharrat told villagers that Vieira’s mining permit predated the village’s land title. Toshao Nikita Miller, present at that meeting, corrected him on the spot, on the record: title came in 1976; Vieira’s rights were purchased in 1995. The documentary record bears her out, and Bharrat’s own ministry’s history of the case says the same.

But the deeper misrepresentation is not about dates. It is about what the CCJ actually decided in Vieira v. Guyana Geology and Mines Commission. In 2010, the GGMC issued Vieira a Cease Work Order for lacking a village agreement, as required under Section 48 of the Amerindian Act. Vieira challenged it, and won, all the way to the CCJ. But the Court’s ruling was narrow to the point of technicality: a mines officer’s power to issue a Cease Work Order, the Court held, can only be used to enforce breaches of the Mining Act itself — not the Amerindian Act, which is a separate statute the Minister of Natural Resources has no power to make regulations for. The Cease Work Order was quashed on that basis alone.

“The CCJ did not validate Vieira’s permits. It did not rule on whether the Village Council had standing to enforce its own consent rights. It found only that GGMC used the wrong legal instrument — and left the underlying question of who is right entirely open.”

The Court said as much itself, noting that the Amerindian Act already provides its own mechanism for resolving tribute disputes between miner and village — meaning that, in the CCJ’s own reasoning, no enforcement gap was created by its ruling. GGMC simply reached for a tool that belonged to a different statute. Two of the three legal questions the case raised — whether the Amerindian Act could apply retroactively to Vieira’s permits, and whether the Village Council had the standing to enforce its consent rights at all — were expressly left undecided as unnecessary to the outcome.

For the government to describe this judgment, as Minister Bharrat has, as a ruling made “in favor of Wayne Vieira” and his “rights to the mining concession” is not a defensible summary of the case.

It is a rhetorical upgrade of a jurisdictional technicality into a substantive vindication that the judgment itself declined to provide.

THE LOSS THAT WAS REAL, AND THE CONTRADICTION BENEATH IT

This is not to say Chinese Landing has never lost. In 2021, the Village Council brought its own claim against Vieira and GGMC, seeking to be heard directly after being shut out of the 2010–2017 proceedings entirely. The High Court dismissed it — and did so on the merits, holding that all minerals within Guyana vest in the state under Section 6 of the Mining Act, and that Vieira did not require the village’s permission to access the areas covered by his permits. That ruling, delivered by Chief Justice Ian Chang, is real, and any honest account of this dispute has to reckon with it rather than around it.

Map of Chinese Landing & Schedule of mining land

But reckoning with a ruling is not the same as accepting it as settled law, and there is good reason not to. In an earlier case, Daniel Dazell, Chief Justice Chang had ruled that a prospecting permit holder — even one granted before the Amerindian Act came into force — is required to observe Section 48 consent when the permit comes up for renewal after the Act’s commencement. In Vieira’s case, confronting substantially the same question, Chang ruled the opposite way, without stating any reason for the departure. The Court of Appeal upheld him with no written decision at all.

Eight years on, that contradiction has never been explained by any court, and the appeal against the 2021 ruling has sat before the Court of Appeal, unheard, for more than three years.

A state that vests minerals in itself is not, by that fact alone, a state entitled to ignore the consent provisions it wrote into its own Amerindian Act for exactly this kind of land. Mineral ownership and the right of entry to extract it are two different legal questions. Chinese Landing’s case has always turned on the second — and no court has yet resolved it consistently.

FOUR DAYS AT TASSAWINI

What has unfolded this week is what happens when that unresolved question meets machinery. According to the Village Council’s own account and independent reporting, at least nine excavators, two bulldozers and several dredge engines were moved onto Tassawini by barge without the operators notifying the Village Council. Residents blocked the equipment; one operator, after being called a “jackass” by residents accusing him of disrespect, had his machine switched off from the operator’s seat by a man and a woman who climbed aboard rather than let it pass. He turned around. The equipment operators say the machinery was brought in to repair roads. The village believes, not unreasonably given the volume of equipment involved, that this is cover for an expansion of mining activity the council has not approved.

The confrontation, per the council, began after a GGMC mines officer stationed at the site indicated he was either unable or unwilling to stop the equipment from entering Vieira’s blocks — meaning a state officer was present, and did not intervene. No representative of the Ministry of Natural Resources or the Ministry of Amerindian Affairs has made direct contact with the village since. Toshao Miller’s own account of the standoff’s third day captures the substance of what the state has offered instead: word, secondhand, that “talks” are underway between the Minister and GGMC, with nothing further communicated since.

Mining, according to the council, resumed at Tassawini in March. The village says it was not told the government had lifted its own mining ban until July — at the National Toshaos Council Conference, four months after the fact, and even then only in the form of vague references back to the CCJ ruling rather than a direct answer to a direct question.

A community whose consent the law requires learned, months after the fact, that the machinery it never consented to had already returned.

THE PATTERN BENEATH THE PRECEDENT

None of this is unique to Chinese Landing, and that is what should trouble anyone inclined to read it as an isolated land dispute rather than a structural feature of how Guyana governs its interior. In April 2024, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights issued its report on Isseneru, an Akawaio community in the Middle Mazaruni whose experience mirrors Chinese Landing’s in almost every particular: incomplete recognition of titled territory, mining permits issued without consultation or benefit-sharing, and — critically — a finding that Guyana’s Mining Act itself, not merely its enforcement, failed to incorporate the human-rights guarantees owed to Indigenous peoples. The Commission found that Isseneru’s own participation in mining did not waive its territorial rights or authorize the state to permit outside mining without consultation. The parallel to Chinese Landing’s Section 48 consent requirement, and to the state’s insistence that a mineral-vesting clause overrides it, is not subtle.

Nor is Chinese Landing’s experience of institutional avoidance unusual. The Inter-American Commission granted precautionary measures for the community in July 2023, citing threats, harassment and documented violence, including a 2018 incident in which a family was forced from its home under threat by a Tactical Services Unit officer and the mine’s general manager, and a 2021 incident in which a nineteen-year-old was allegedly slapped and pursued by mine security. Those measures required Guyana to establish a permanent, community-based monitoring mechanism, to conduct joint consultations with the village on protective measures, and to carry out comprehensive scientific environmental studies of the Barama River — steps this news outlet has found no evidence the government has taken.

What the government has done, instead, is write to the Commission asking that the measures be withdrawn, characterizing the original complaint as a misrepresentation.

WHAT IS ACTUALLY BEING ASKED

The Village Council has not asked for the impossible. It has asked that Vieira’s operations halt while mediation is completed and the community’s own case is finally heard — a modest request made considerably less modest by the fact that Vieira, per the council, has continued to prepare for and carry out mining activity while those very discussions are ongoing, which the council rightly characterizes as undermining the legitimacy of the process itself.                                          It has asked, too, that the Court of Appeal do what it has not done in more than three years: rule.

An abandoned mining pit with mining waste spilling over into the Barama river

The Barama River, meanwhile, does not wait on legal argument. Residents report that fish from the river now carry mercury, and that water once safe to drink is not. A medical team dispatched after Toshao Miller’s formal reports to the Regional Toshao Conference confirmed a link between the river’s turbidity and a local outbreak of diarrhea and vomiting.

This is the material cost of a legal architecture that has spent sixteen years failing to decide, cleanly and finally, whether a Village Council’s absolute title means what the word absolute suggests it should.

THE STANDARD THIS PUBLICATION APPLIES

This editorial draws a firm line between what the record supports and what remains contested, and that line matters here. The 2021 High Court ruling against Chinese Landing is real, stands as the current law pending appeal, and cannot be wished away by advocates on any side of this dispute. What this writer does dispute is the government’s characterization of the 2017 CCJ ruling as a merits victory for Vieira, when the judgment’s own text confines itself to a question of statutory authority and leaves the questions that matter to Chinese Landing undecided. That is not interpretation. It is what the ruling says.

A government that wished to close the legislative gap the CCJ identified in 2017 — the absence of any mechanism by which GGMC can enforce Amerindian Act consent requirements against a mining permit — has had eight years and a parliamentary majority to do so. It has not. A government that wished to give the Court of Appeal reason to move has had three years since the Village Council’s case was dismissed. It has not compelled that either. What it has done is stand up a mines officer at the very site of the dispute, watch him decline to intervene, and then refer the Toshao back to the same 2017 ruling that never answered her question in the first place.

The residents of Chinese Landing are not asking the state for something new. They are asking it to answer a question it has spent sixteen years avoiding.

Until it does, the road into Tassawini will continue to be guarded not by the law, but by the people the law was written to protect and has, so far, declined to

The Board 

This editorial draws on the full text of Vieira v. Guyana Geology and Mines Commission [2017] CCJ 20 (A.J.); IACHR Resolution 41/2023 (Precautionary Measures No. 196-23); IACHR Report No. 8/24 (Isseneru v. Guyana); reporting by Kaieteur News, Stabroek News, Mongabay and the Department of Public Information; the Village Council’s public statements of August 21 and prior; and a direct video interview with Toshao Nikita Miller conducted during the standoff. The 2021 High Court judgment itself was not directly reviewed by this board; its holding is reported here as characterized consistently across three independent news sources and is presented as contested pending the outcome of the Village Council’s appeal.

Segregating, Steering, and Weeding out Undesirables

592 GUARDIAN◊ACCOUNTABILITY◊INTEGRITY IN JOURNALISM◊GUYANA

Segregating, Steering, and Weeding out Undesirables


OPINION BY: GHK LALL – August 2026

What are those people doing here?  Yes, those people!  Why does space have to be shared with them in restaurants and supermarkets?  This great, sweaty, unwashed mass of bottom-of-the-barrel Guyanese.  I don’t think that Exxon’s people, others in that classification, would be so undiplomatic. They wouldn’t be caught dead pronouncing so vehemently (what could be interpreted otherwise) on ordinary Guyanese seeking a glimpse of what it is to live large.  How locals and foreigners live on the cream of oil rich Guyana. 

Not one would do so publicly in these politically correct, supersensitive times.  The PPP Govt, however, is concerned about the masses intruding in places with special ambience.  Coming uncomfortably close to Guyana’s rich and famous.  Upscale supermarkets and restaurants should be off-limits for those who can’t afford them.  If supermarkets and restaurants today, is the PPP Govt’s scheme to segregate, to steer, and to weed out Guyanese undesirables could it  spread to real estate.  Guyanese receive early clues of a bunker mentality, a state where silos proliferate.  Or, as said in another writing, a creeping form of economic eugenics.  Cull the unworthy.  Oust Guyana’s ordinary.

Inviting affordability but Forbidden?

Poor Guyanese aspire.  They have oil.  They wish to elevate themselves.  A bag of foreign bread; cookies for the kids.  Ow, let the people sample nah maan.  They may not have the money, but they have ambition.  Who doesn’t want better?  Who does want for their children to have a better life than them?  Now, even that’s frowned upon, found fault with, denounced.  What’s the objective?  If the foreigners have serious problems with their own compatriots in their native lands, how much tolerance can they have for Guyanese?  Raucous, boisterous, Guyanese.

Frankly, what I see underway is a push to separate the rich from the poor, the princely from the pathetic, and the people in the penthouses from the people on the pavement.  Objections, anyone?  The word from above is, forget about sharp, slick malls, with wide aisles and lushly stocked shelves.  Even the shopping carts have an air about them.  Stick to the Bourda Market Mall.  Fetch basket and stay there. 

The richest class in Guyana has the money.  They should be able to spend in comfort in the supermarkets and restaurants of their choice.  Not have to mix and mingle with Guyanese minions.  Nothing sours a slug of Johnnie Walker Blue than contemplating the closeness of commoners.  Adolf called them undesirables.  Uncle Joe termed them parasites.  In India and Rwanda, cockroach has gained traction.

So, what is beginning to take shape in Oil Guyana?  I think it is segregating, steering, and weeding out the multitudes from the midst of the majestic.  Stay in corner.  Be contented among own kind.  It came glossily packaged.  Care and concern for the welfare of Guyanese overdoing things.  It’s a sign of the future.  The segregated Guyana state is becoming more audible.  They only thing left to be done, to communicate what should be, is to hangout a three-word notice in front of restaurants and supermarkets.  No coloreds allowed.  Real estate communities were the first casualties.  Now it’s exclusive eateries (or what should stay that way) and shopping emporiums that Guyana’s poor better not set foot inside.  Not even the parking lot.  A subtle warning was already given.

 

Follow the facts.  Separate schools for the moneyed class and foreign contingents.  Queen’s College isn’t good enough.  Separate places for giving birth for PPP highfliers.  Guyana’s world-class medical facilities, not so world-class, after all.  The rich cabal wants their own reserved spaces.  The upwardly mobile wants more oil action for themselves.  Both hold their noses around the lower orders, seek to keep them at a distance.  Keep them in the barrios and ghettoes.  Let them frolic there. 

Nudge them away from plush restaurants and fancy supermarkets.  It’s how Guyana’s higher side lives.  The segregating and steering of Guyanese have begun.  Weeding out of undesirables more vocal. 

I submit, Guyana is now a bunker state.  A state of silos.  One hell of a sick, sorry, state.

Cold and cruel, there stands the PPP Govt

592 GUARDIAN♦ACCOUNTABILITY♦INTEGRITY IN JOURNALISM♦GUYANA

  Cold and cruel, there stands the PPP Govt


OPINION BY :GHK LALL –August 2026

Observe people riddled with insecurity.  Brutalized by broad swaths of poverty.  Upended by their own naivety.  Made into sitting ducks by their own vulnerability (and their own heroes).  Always ready game, never less than prone, to their dependency.  Play with their minds.  Shower them with barrels of self-guilt.  Prompt them to feel shame.  Feel sorry for themselves.  Use them to abuse themselves, a flogging first, then flapping about uncertainly.  What to do?  Why even this tiny luxury taken away?  This cannot be life in an oil rich country, the Guyana Oil Eldorado.  Just can’t be.  But the man said so, and the man must know.  This much I know.  What is being dished out to poor, hurting, scrambling, dragging, giving up Guyanese is representative of the cold and cruel.  It is an essential element of the PPP Govt’s barbarous calculus.  Throw the cost-of-living burden, price agonies, right back at them, into their sad, sick faces.

Eating out in tony restaurants is for the well-bankrolled, the superrich PPP political class.  Don’t hang hat where hand can’t reach.  Low-class and working-class are low-class and working-class.  Know thy place.  Understand thy limits. 

It’s a real smaat maan who speaks.  Plenty university.  The man in control of the money.  Enough has been given.  Government isn’t the answer.  Government isn’t a babysitter.  The PPP certainly isn’t, has not a scrap of interest. 

There is the contractor class to be taken care of; and big private sector operators to assist towards greater prosperity.  Have a care people.  They provide the jobs.  So, what if they are minimum wage, unlivable wage, jobs?  Just start thinking of, begin working on, abandoning those once-a-month, often once-a-quarter, dreams and plans to eat out and give the children some joy.  Even the little that those pushed into the category of losers in Guyana have is taken away from them. 

Cold and callous.  It’s part of the PPP Govt calculus.  Which government that still has its head on, desires to take ownership of cost-of-living crises, and its wide trail of devastation?  Maybe the government of leading men in sacred texts.  But none should look to the PPP Govt to embrace that duty.  What’s in it for the PPP, other than less money to pilfer, less milk for its fat cats?

Eating in swanky restaurants is bad enough.  But shopping in pricey supermarkets is an uber horror.  Very risky business.  Especially in a cost-of-living country that destroys its people, and a PPP Govt that eats its young, and all those that it afflicts and cripples.  Guyana is a cold and cruel place.  Capitalism devouring, taking no prisoners.  At the pinnacle of the pyramid is a PPP Govt that publicly cheers its own predatory nature.  Buy at the greens and veggie markets.  Kiss supermarkets goodbye.  Are some owners of some of those bigshot establishments not friends of the farmlands (and its products) that have caused such uproars?  Special invitees of the PPP Govt?  Apparently, their only utility is when it’s time for financial support.  Or the force of a shakedown. 

Recall what is repeated, emphasized: the PPP Govt is cold and cruel.  A stalker.  Then bushwhacker.  Collect millions from donors.  Then harass ordinary people for only window shopping at foreign and local supermarkets.  It takes a government of exceptionally low and dirty character to engage in such double-cross.  I believe that the PPP Govt is refining its own form of economic eugenics.  Start with segregating and weeding out the undesirable classes.  (More on this coming).

Reality check.  Can sane Guyanese see street level, entry level, minimum wage level locals even thinking of exchanging bhagee for Brussel sprouts?  Or cassava for caviar and pumpkin for mushrooms?  I feel for fellow Guyanese.  Whipped and flayed by their own to keep them in their place.  Their lot is worse than that of children.  Grown Guyanese shouldn’t be seen nor heard.  Nor should they be seen shopping and eating where the higher classes that have arrived now thrive. 

Like I said, the PPP Govt is extraordinarily infused with the cold and callous.  It’s the ultimate in political savagery.

Ms. Afeefa Ally -what a wonderful Guyanese story

592 GUARDIAN♦ ACCOUNTABILITY♦INTERGRITY IN JOURNALISM♦GUYANA

Ms. Afeefa Ally –what a wonderful Guyanese story


OPINION BY; GHK LALL–August  2026

Hers is one of those great, big, feel good stories.  The achievement of Ms. Afeefa Ally brings a glow.  Of delight at her overachievement.  Splendidly done, Ms. Ally.  She now stands as a role model for others.  Through can do energy.  Becoming an inspiration for the challenged.  A standard of going forth and never looking back, never giving up.  Amid all the highfliers at this year’s CSEC rite of passage for Guyanese youths, Ms. Ally’s story is the one that will stay with me.  One that I will use as a reference, when I hear excuses.  When I see shrinking and complaining about all that is wrong with the world and unfair about life.

For me, Ms. Afeefa Ally’s seven subjects represent more than a hard-earned milestone.  It is a monument to determination and dedication.  At the risk of gross exaggeration, it is several times the number of subjects that she earned.  The stars aligned.  The system in the home came together, worked.  The support system in the school overperformed.  From teachers and friends.  From a 59-year-old grandmother to the daily journey to be back in a school again. 

A helping hand.  A comforting presence.  A familiar companion.  Too often, the worse that Guyana has to offer is on display.  Very quietly, this young lady toiled in the CSEC trenches and emerged smelling like a rare rose.  Seven Grade Ones, three grade twos.  Guyanese have every cause to be proud of her work ethic, her outstanding achievement against the odds.  Despite the hand that fate has dealt her. 

I am proud of Afeefa Ally.  Her achievement is Guyana’s achievement.  I feel like it is mine.

I would like to suggest that the Government of Guyana search for ways on how it could render a hand to her in this her now post CSEC years.  I wish there were more stories like hers.  Of the students from various indigenous communities, who rise above their environment of destitution and ever so often official depravity.  Of the children from broken or abusive homes, who tarried on relentlessly, and kept the midnight oil burning.  Of those hopefuls laboring in neighborhoods where the noise of the music peals to the equivalent of an atomic explosion, and where alcohol and other substances of unrestrained merriment are the order of the day and the long hours of the night. 

I can visualize the candle going down to its last flicker, and a head resting exhaustedly and uneasily on a small table so laden with books.  An age so suffused with hope.  Education for poor Guyanese is more than about the future.  It is about the richness of the oxygen that, at times, can be so difficult to encounter, then infinitely more of a struggle to inhale.

I love these kinds of stories.  The challenge for me is that they are so far apart.  A lonely trickle here, a lost episode in some forlorn corner of Guyana.  It is why they are cherished the more, and an Afeefa Ally stands as Guyana’s latest golden child.  Except that she is one that is different.  Numbers that are small in comparison.  An institution that is not usually among those hailed and heralded, that owns and controls the spotlight year after year.  From an area that is some distance from the busy, on the run, up in the clouds, metropolis.  

A separate word is due to her grandmother.  It is some sacrifice, those days.  In itself, one that I cannot remember coming across in my time here, or travels elsewhere.  At least, she could read, so she was in a position to help.  And help she did with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of patience, and something else. 

There has to be some love in there.  A deep, abiding, love.  We shall see this through together.  Ms. Afeefa Ally and her grandma did.  This is as grand as it gets.  There are still these types of Guyanese that inspire hope deep inside.