Slingah -what a singer, what a character!

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Slingah -what a singer, what a character!


OPINION BY : GHK LALL September 2026

Ninety-one and gone.  A rapturous inning, one worthy of Lords, and the Royal Albert Hall.  With the London Philharmonic accompanying.  The Mighty Sparrow lasted long, seemed to have been around forever.  What a singer and performer!  What a contributor to West Indian musical culture and life.  What a character!  Thought the best way to pay tribute to a regional immortal-indeed, a global one-is to reflect on some of his contributions, and how they came to mean so much to me and my generation, and others before and after.

My first encounter with the Mighty Sparrow was as a child, with “Maria.”  Three decades later, Whoah-wah-whoah-ohhh Maria, and those soaring and cascading reeds can still cause a tingle, the pores to grow.  Then came that classic “Dan is the man in the van.”  The King of Calypso (and Emperor of Many Musical Genres) went to town on English nursery rhymes, through parody, kaiso poetry, and sheer musical wizardry.  Some extracts may explain my excitement.  Twirly and twisty were two screws.  They are in the Government in Guyana, and not in minor roles.  Plus, who mek a cow jump over the moon.  Due to being ahead of his time, and a politically correct practitioner (sez who?), Sparrow was kind enough to leave out the farm in Guyana from which that super cow came.  Must be one of those moons that dogs howl at, and which set lunatics to roam free at all levels in a scared country.  When a lullaby was needed, a little romantic mood and interlude, there was that timeless evergreen “Only a fool (breaks his own heart), ”  Jeez when the Sparrow met the Dragon the sparks didn’t just fly, they crooned, and made many swoon.

Alongside those hits were Drunk and Disorderly which captures the local rum culture, and the need for insultation of the music rooms of bars.  Financing to be provided by a loan from the Guyana Development Bank.  This man thought of everything.  Question for Guyanese: was the Mighty Sparrow more of a superb calypsonian, or was he a slick politician in disguise?  What about Melda: oh you making wedding plan carrying me name to obeah man….”  Maybe that’s why Guyanese politicians were turning up so often in so many churches and other religious houses around the middle of last year.  They weren’t taking any chances, covering all the bases.  From consulting about election prospects with obeah men in secret to pretending at worshipping God in his Holy Temple.  Gosh!  I am ordering a copy of Slinger Franciso’s birth certificate.  I think that he was more of a Guyanese than a Grenadian.  Something got mixed up somewhere.  It is uncanny for one man-and a singer at that-to come so close to Guyanese political and cultural reality so frequently.

He was a man for all musical seasons.  A romantic in on era (Maria, Mr. Walker, and Only a Fool) and raunchy in the next: Benwood Dick, Congo Man, Village Ram, and Witch Doctor (I understand they have started giving out free PhDs for that practice).  Over the decades, the Mighty Sparrow has enthralled endless numbers, excited from aspiring singers to novice composers to anyone who ever felt daring enough to dabble in Karaoke and dancing.  He was up there and out there in a space by himself.  Miles apart from the competition.  Now after 91 years on the rich green soil of this region, he has gone on an unending singing tour. To that part of heaven specially reserved for men and women who sang their hearts out, and gave of their all to make life a little easier, a tad better, for their fellow journeyers in this earthly pale.  In this vale of tears, the Mighty Sparrow did make Guyanese and others in these parts forget their tears and be of good cheer.  If only for a moment, it was enough to last a lifetime. 

Thanks for the good times, Slinger Franciso.  Sing one for me up there, Sparrow.  I may throw one down the hatch in honor of a magician in action, a majestic passing.  Yeah, it’s true: Sparrow dead.

The Selective State

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The Selective State


What a Collapsing Cuba Reveals About the Anatomy of a Functioning State — and Why Abundance Is No Guarantee Against the Same Disease

OPINION BY: Hem Kumar–September,2026

There is a phrase making the rounds among diplomats in Havana that deserves a longer life than a single dispatch: “authoritarian anarchy.” It describes a state that has retained, almost undiminished, its capacity to repress political expression, while every other function of government: health, education, public order, basic service delivery — quietly comes apart.

The security apparatus gets fuel when nothing else does. The prisons are staffed when the hospitals are not. The state, in other words, has not disappeared. It has simply chosen, function by function, what to keep and what to let go.

Cuba’s collapse is its own story, produced by seven decades of one-party rule, a foreign oil cutoff, and a sanctions regime with no real precedent. Guyana’s condition is not that. This editorial board has no interest in flattening the distance between a country running out of everything and a country awash in more capital than it has ever had to govern. The comparison being drawn here is not of circumstance. It is of method — a diagnostic test that travels well precisely because it does not depend on scarcity to work. Ask of any state: which functions is it keeping sharp, and which is it letting atrophy? The answer tends to say more about a government’s actual priorities than anything in its own communications.

WHAT GETS MAINTAINED

Apply that test here and an uncomfortable pattern comes into view — not of collapse, Guyana is nowhere near collapse, but of a state whose functioning capacity does not map onto its own stated urgencies.

Consider the Ministry of Health’s contract nurse payroll, which this board has tracked as it left nurses unpaid for months at a stretch — not for lack of money, but for lack of a functioning administrative pipeline to move it. Set that against Guyana Water Inc.’s entry into commercial bottled water production, a function the state stood up with evident speed and no apparent difficulty, even as its regulatory mandate over household sanitation infrastructure remains legally unresolved.

One function; paying the people who deliver frontline care — sits idle. Another; a state enterprise entering a profit-generating consumer market it also regulates — moves without friction. The capacity clearly exists. It is a question of where it gets pointed.

The same asymmetry shows up in the constitutional architecture itself. Commissions with standing constitutional mandates — the Judicial Service Commission, the Police Service Commission, the Public Service Commission, the all important Public Procurement Commission — sit in states of appointment limbo or contested composition for years at a time, GECOM’s own commissioner dispute under Article 161(3)(b) being only the most visible instance.

Meanwhile the executive finds the institutional bandwidth to launch task forces, consultations, and initiatives — a noise-nuisance task force, a Model Village roadshow, a review of AI-misinformation penalties — with considerable speed, and then lets most of them expire quietly without the follow-through their announcements promised.

This board has already named that pattern elsewhere: a bite with no teeth. Cuba’s diplomats would recognize the shape of it, even if they would not recognize the country.

A third instance is more pointed still. The MV Barima disaster produced, in its aftermath, an extraordinary mobilization of state capacity — a Commission of Inquiry, a salvage tender, ministerial resignations under pressure, a formal wreck-status process. What it has not produced, months on, is a resolved answer to the far more basic question the disaster raised: whether the vessel’s own defect and repair paper trail was ever acted upon before the sailing– that killed its passengers. The state moved fast and visibly on containment and process. It has moved far more slowly on the underlying function those processes exist to serve.

A state’s real priorities are not what it announces. They are what it keeps able to function without being asked.

THE REPARTO PROBLEM, APPLIED WITH CAUTION

The Foreign Affairs piece that prompts this editorial describes something Cubans call reparto — a divvying up. As the state opened limited space for private enterprise, the gains flowed disproportionately to those with proximity to power, while the majority absorbed the costs of an economy in retreat. Regime insiders positioned themselves at the front of a very narrow door.

The result was not broad prosperity but a widening gap between a small class of winners and everyone else — inequality manufactured in real time, alongside institutional hollowing, not despite it.

This board has been building, in a separate and more extensively sourced piece, the case that Guyana is watching its own version of that mechanism take shape — not from scarcity, as in Cuba, but from abundance. A new domestic wealthy class, without precedent in this country’s history, forming in the oil era through proximity to the ruling party rather than through the broad-based lift oil revenue was supposed to provide. We will not rehearse that argument’s evidence here; it deserves its own reckoning, on its own terms, and is forthcoming.

What is worth naming now is the structural kinship: whether a state is retreating under pressure or expanding under windfall, the same mechanism — concentrated capture through access, thin distribution to everyone else; can operate underneath very different weather.

The direction of the economy does not determine who captures its gains. Proximity to power does.

THE PRICE OF DELAY

The strongest argument in the Foreign Affairs analysis is not really about Cuba’s politics at all. It is about time. Institutional decay left unaddressed does not stay a temporary condition — it calcifies into the baseline any future government has to build on. A hospital system allowed to hollow out for long enough stops being a hospital system in need of repair and becomes, instead, the new normal a country has quietly accepted. The same logic applies to a state that lets its constitutional commissions sit vacant, or that responds to a fatal ferry disaster with process rather than accountability, or that permits a new class of insiders to consolidate gains while the mechanisms meant to check that consolidation remain unfunded, understaffed, or unconsulted.

Guyana has an advantage Cuba does not: resources, and time that has not yet run out. But advantages of that kind are not self-executing.

Capacity not spent on the functions that matter now does not sit in reserve, waiting to be spent later. It is capacity a country has simply chosen not to build.

Cuba’s ruins are the argument for urgency in a country running out of everything. Guyana’s oil wealth should be the argument for urgency in a country that has, for once, no excuse.

— The Board

Your Teenager Was Never Going to Comply — And the Data Proves It

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 Your Teenager Was Never Going to Comply — And the Data Proves It


OPINION BY: Hem Kumar September 2026

Why the world’s first under-16 social media ban collapsed in six months, and what it means before Guyana writes a law of its own

Imagine passing a law, watching it fail within four months, and having the exact mechanism of its failure documented by seven researchers before the ink on the policy was even dry. That is, more or less, what happened in Australia.

In December 2025, Australia became the first country in the world to bar anyone under 16 from holding an account on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok, Threads, X, YouTube, Reddit, Twitch, or Kick. It was the most aggressive piece of adolescent social media regulation any government had attempted, and more than a dozen countries — along with numerous U.S. states — are reportedly watching to see if it works before writing similar laws of their own.

A team of economists and psychologists from the University of Chicago, the University of Pennsylvania, Bocconi University, the University of Cologne, and Harvard Law School decided not to wait for the verdict. They surveyed hundreds of Australian teenagers four months after the ban took effect, then went back two months later to see what had changed. What they found should matter to every parent, teacher, and lawmaker anywhere a similar ban is being discussed — Guyana included.

The numbers, plainly

Four months in, only about 27% of banned 14- and 15-year-olds were actually complying. The rest had found a way around it, or had simply never been stopped in the first place. Two months after that, compliance had fallen to 6% — roughly one teenager in twenty.

This did not happen because enforcement got weaker. It happened while enforcement got stronger: platform penalties doubled over the same window, and regulators stepped up monitoring. The ban unwound anyway.

Why a ban with real teeth still failed

The researchers found that breaking the law carried almost no personal risk in a teenager’s mind — only 22% believed there were any consequences for being caught, even though 98% knew the ban existed. And getting around it required almost no effort: three in four teens called it easy or very easy. Some just lied about their birthdate. Some borrowed a parent’s or older sibling’s account. In one in five cases, an adult in the household actively helped a teenager get back online after their account was shut down.

But the single strongest predictor of whether a teenager kept using banned platforms wasn’t the law, and it wasn’t how hard the workaround was. It was how many of their five closest friends were still online. Teens whose friend groups had mostly quit were far more likely to comply themselves. Teens whose friend groups hadn’t quit almost never did — even when they knew, accurately, that quitting was what the law asked of them.

This is the part worth sitting with: teenagers were not confused about what their peers were doing. Their estimates of how many classmates were still on social media were accurate throughout the study. They understood the situation correctly, and they still went back — because being the only one offline, when your friends aren’t, has a real social cost, and no law was cancelling that cost out.

The math behind the collapse

The researchers asked teenagers a more pointed question: how many of your peers would need to quit before you’d be willing to quit too? The average answer was two out of three. But actual compliance never got past one in four. The gap between what teenagers said they needed to see, and what was actually happening around them, was never close to closing — which is why, when the researchers built a mathematical model of the tipping point Australia would need to reach for the ban to hold, the only stable number it produced was around 17%, below the rate already observed in April. The model predicted the collapse before the June data confirmed it.

There’s one more detail that explains why the pressure ran the wrong way. Teenagers who kept using social media were seen by their peers as more popular, not less — only 4% of respondents thought compliers were the more popular group. The teenagers with the most social influence were the ones least likely to log off, which meant the platforms never stopped being the place where the socially important conversations were happening.

What actually seemed to help

The researchers weren’t just interested in tallying a failure. They point to five things that might do better than a blanket ban on its own: tying restrictions to school grade rather than birth date,since classmates a year older are the most immediate source of pressure; favoring limits on use over outright prohibition — 72% of teens said they’d actually prefer a self-limiting app to a ban; pairing any restriction with campaigns that make not using social media something to be proud of, not something to hide; giving teenagers something real to do with the hours a ban would free up; and being honest that social media is one piece of the adolescent mental health picture, not the whole of it.

Why this matters here

Guyana does not yet have a law like Australia’s. But the conversation about one is already underway, and the evidence above is the most rigorous account anywhere of what happens when a country tries it.

There’s a reason to think the lesson could land even harder here than it did in Australia. Australia’s ban leaned entirely on large multinational platforms policing themselves, backed by a fine those companies could absorb — and even that arrangement only produced 6% compliance within six months. A smaller country, with a smaller and more tightly connected teenage population, would likely see the same peer dynamics resolve faster, not slower — because in a small enough social network, it takes fewer holdouts to keep everyone else online.

None of this means the underlying concern is wrong. It isn’t. It means the tool matters as much as the intention behind it. A ban that looks strong on paper and dissolves within two school terms protects no one — it only teaches a generation of teenagers, correctly, that this particular law wasn’t real.

 

Prem Narine: murders covered up -Sgt Bascom exonerated (Pt III)

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Prem Narine: murders covered up -Sgt Bascom exonerated (Pt III)

OPINION BY: GHK LALL September 2026

Was former Guyana Police Force Sergeant Dion Bascom, a victim of government foul play?  Was he made into the sacrificial lamb so that another could be protected, saved?  So that seniors in the Police could carry on with their side businesses?  So that the PPP Govt could maintain its lucrative criminal relationships?  I don’t know.  Nor do I claim to know.  But this is what I know, as sifted from the facts that recently made their way into public space.

Fact One: there were six execution-style murders.  Fact Two: one party has been fingered as the perp alleged in all six of those capital felonies.  Fact Three: the discloser of those facts is, ironically, high up in the Guyana Police Major Crimes Dept.  Fact Four: Sgt Bascom had alleged coverup in murder, which may or may not include the six execution-style murders.  Those mentioned by one who I have no choice but to identify as an approved Guyana Police and PPP Govt whistleblower.  Fact Five: Sgt Bascom had feared for his life, as he stated.  Fact Six: Sgt Bascom has claimed he was being setup, part of a frameup and coverup, by the Guyana Police.

Considering the jolting revelations about six execution-style murders from one of the Guyana Police Dept’s Finest, Snr Supt, Prem Narine, I submit that former Sgt Dion Bascom now stands exonerated.  This man is owed an apology from the Police Top Cop, and the top-ranking leaders in the PPP Govt.  The first apologies should come from the Police Commissioner and the Hon Minister of Home Affairs, though new to the job.  In mentioning the Minister of Home Affairs, I look deeper, and go further.

Whoever was the minister(s) holding that sensitive portfolio during that execution-style murder season, it is pushing reason to the brink to think that he would not have known.  Nor would not have had an interest in bodies falling, and murder numbers rising.  Suspended for the moment is the traditional political management of the Guyana Police by different governments in different years, without a single year excluded.  As a matter of sheer routine, administrative curiosity, management updates, and the minister’s own regard for the murder record on his watch, I tender that he had to have some knowledge.  It would be a gross evasion of duty, if the Top Cop didn’t so engage and inform the honorable minister.  In identical fashion, it would rise to the level of gross negligence if that now armed Minister of Home Affairs kept what he knew to himself, and decided (on his own) that that’s neither the PPP Cabinet’s, or the PPP Govt leadership’s, business.

It’s time for Fact Seven in this conversation.  The remarkable fact that the sole suspect, with evidence to match (the super said so, not I) was almost like an unappointed PPP Prime Minister, had to drive the then Minister of Home Affairs to share around that hottest of scorching potatoes.  Perhaps, a better reference is an unpinned grenade. 

No one man-not even a powerful minister, no matter how much of a demolisher or inheritor of the role he may have been-wants to be remembered as the sole owner of that situation.

Having said all of that, it shocks that there were no capital charges.  Yeah, money talks, bull walks.  Friendship counts, the law is counted out.  Are Guyana’s top lawmen listening, feeling the heat generated by this sordid situation?  Is the president, whoever that was at the time, and those since?  Six families were mocked with the unclosed loss of loved ones via violent crimes.  The Guyana family was scorned though murder evidence managed away from it.  Sgt Dion Bascom was putout and put away with extra energy and ferocious determination.  All the while, six execution-style murders stayed unsolved because the PPP Govt had an asset to protect, a dog in its crime detection dog-and-pony show.

I recommend a medal and proper reward for Sgt Bascom.  Cybercrime charges were blown up to blow him away.  He dodged a bullet.  Snr Supt Prem Narine should get a special medal.  The Order of Silence.

Guyana’s Great Growth Paradox: The Numbers Are Soaring. Are the People?

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Guyana’s Great Growth Paradox: The Numbers Are Soaring. Are the People?


OPINION BY: Hem Kumar September 2026

Part I of “Guyana 2025: Growth, Gold, Oil—and the Questions Behind the Numbers”

Guyana is again being celebrated as one of the fastest-growing economies on earth. The Government points to an estimated 19.3 percent expansion in real GDP in 2025; the IMF reports growth above 19 percent, following average annual growth near 40 percent over 2023 and 2024. Those are extraordinary numbers. They should not be denied, minimized, or spun away  

But neither should Guyanese be asked to confuse a statistical explosion with a national transformation.

The real question is not whether Guyana is growing. It plainly is. The real question is what is growing, who controls it, who benefits from it, and what will remain when the easy oil money has been spent.

The headline hides the story

The Government’s own 2026 Budget Speech reported total real GDP growth of 19.3 percent in 2025, oil-and-gas growth of 21 percent, and non-oil growth of 14.3 percent. It also reported production of 261.1 million barrels of crude during the year. The IMF similarly reported that oil output exceeded 900,000 barrels per day by the end of 2025—35 percent higher than one year earlier—and identified construction, agriculture, mining and manufacturing as the sources of non-oil expansion.

That is the official celebration: oil is booming, non-oil activity is rising, unemployment has declined, and Guyana is moving forward.

But growth percentages can be deceptive when one sector has become so overwhelmingly large that it dwarfs the rest of the economy. A small sector can grow quickly and still add comparatively little to national output. A giant sector can grow at a slower rate and still determine the national result.

That is the difference between a headline and an explanation.

 Oil remains the engine

By the Government’s own account, oil and gas remain the main driver of Guyana’s overall economic growth.  The IMF’s description of strong non-oil growth does not change that fundamental fact; it confirms that construction and other domestic activity are rising beside an oil sector whose output has expanded at an astonishing pace.

The public deserves an honest accounting of what this means.

When oil revenue enters the Treasury, is withdrawn from the Natural Resource Fund, and is spent on roads, bridges, buildings, housing, contractors, equipment, security, transport and public services, the resulting activity is recorded as construction, services or other non-oil output.

That activity is real. Workers are paid. Contractors earn. Materials are bought. Projects are announced. Concrete is poured.

But let us be clear: oil money spent through a non-oil sector does not automatically become economic diversification.

A construction surge financed by petroleum is still dependent on petroleum. A housing boom sustained by state contracts and oil-funded liquidity is still vulnerable to the spending decisions of the state. A retail sector expanding because contractors, officials and oil-service workers have more money to spend has not necessarily become an internationally competitive industry.

It may be activity. It may even be prosperity for some. But it is not yet proof of transformation.

The country of two economies

This is where the paradox begins.

Guyana can be one of the fastest-growing economies in the world while an ordinary family still counts every dollar at the market. It can export hundreds of millions of barrels of crude while nurses, teachers, pensioners, vendors, farmers and public servants wonder why rent, groceries, transport, school supplies, medicine and utilities remain so difficult to afford. It can be rich in GDP while too many citizens remain poor in purchasing power.

It can be praised abroad for growth while people at home ask a much simpler question: if the country is doing so well, why is life still so hard?

That question is not anti-development. It is the most pro-development question a country can ask.

A government that truly believes in shared prosperity should welcome it. It should answer it with facts: poverty data, household-income data, food-price data, wage data, rental data, regional spending data and clear evidence of who has gained from the oil era. Instead, Guyanese are too often presented with a national growth rate as though it settles every argument. It does not.

Growth is not distribution

GDP tells us how much output is produced. It does not tell us how income is divided. It does not tell us whether a mother can afford milk, whether a young man can find skilled work, whether a farmer can compete, whether a pensioner can buy medication, or whether a hinterland community has reliable health care, electricity, roads, water and internet.

It does not tell us whether prosperity has reached the people who were promised that oil would change their lives.

The IMF reported that unemployment declined to 6.2 percent at the end of 2025, even as it described the economy as constrained by limited implementation capacity and stressed the importance of saving a larger share of additional oil revenue in line with absorptive capacity.  That is not a minor footnote. It is the warning inside the celebration.

A country can spend faster than it can plan. It can build faster than it can maintain. It can borrow because lenders see oil wealth, import because contractors need equipment, and announce projects faster than institutions can supervise them.

Then the boom becomes a conveyor belt: money enters, contracts multiply, imports surge, costs rise, and the public is asked to applaud the speed of the machine without being allowed to inspect where it is taking the country.

The construction question

The IMF identifies construction as the principal driver of Guyana’s non-oil expansion.  That should prompt celebration only after it prompts scrutiny.

What is being built? Who receives the contracts? How many projects are completed on time and within budget? How much equipment is being imported? How much is being leased, shared and efficiently used? How much work is done by Guyanese labor? How much value stays in Guyana after foreign machinery, materials, consultants and suppliers are paid?

Most importantly: what will these projects produce ten years from now?

A country does not become developed merely because it has construction sites. Development is built when roads lower farm costs, schools produce capable graduates, hospitals save lives, energy reduces business expenses, ports increase exports, and public investments are maintained long after the ribbon-cutting ceremony is over.

Without that discipline, a construction boom can become little more than a temporary distribution system for oil rents.

The question Government cannot avoid

Guyana’s growth is real. Its oil production is real. Its new fiscal space is real. Its opportunity is real. So is the responsibility.

The Government must stop treating every request for a deeper accounting as hostility to progress. The public is not asking Guyana to reject oil. The public is asking whether oil is being used to build a country that can stand when oil prices fall, wells decline, contracts end, and the easy years are over.

That is the test.

♦ Not whether GDP reaches another record.

♦ Not whether another foreign institution applauds the numbers.

♦ Not whether another minister can announce another project.

The test is whether oil wealth is producing a broader productive economy; whether it is lowering the cost of living rather than inflating it; whether it is building competent institutions rather than merely bigger budgets; and whether the people who endured Guyana before oil are finally receiving more than speeches about what oil might one day bring.

Guyana may be growing faster than almost any country in the world. But growth is not the same thing as transformation.

And until the benefits are broad, visible, measurable and lasting, the world’s fastest-growing economy will remain one of its most troubling paradoxes.

 

PART I· GOLD, CRIME AND THE CUYUNÍ

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PART I· GOLD, CRIME AND THE CUYUNÍ


THE CUYUNÍ MACHINE

How Venezuela’s Criminal Gold Economy Crossed Into Guyana      

 OPINION BY: The 592 Guardian

Nicolás Maduro is gone. Operation Absolute Resolve saw to that in January, when US forces removed the man who had ruled Venezuela through fifteen years of expropriation, hyperinflation, and increasingly naked criminal governance. What Absolute Resolve did not remove, and was arguably never designed to remove, is the machine Maduro built to keep himself and his generals solvent while the rest of the Venezuelan economy collapsed around them: the gold economy of the Orinoco Mining Arc.

That machine is still running. It has simply found a new, more convenient source of supply — and increasingly, that source is Guyana.

This is not a story about a war on the other side of a border that Guyana happens to share. It is a story about a border that has become, in the words of one regional judicial official close to trafficking investigations in the tri-border zone, “a well-oiled machine” — one with “long-standing political backing, armed force and the ability to move seamlessly across the countries of the region.” Guyanese gold is moving into that machine. Guyanese cocaine is moving alongside it. And the state institutions built to notice either flow have, so far, mostly not.

A MARKET TOO BIG TO DIE WITH ONE MAN

Venezuela’s gold sector was generating an estimated US$2.2 billion a year by 2025, a financial lifeline for a state whose oil revenue had been gutted by mismanagement, underinvestment and sanctions. That revenue did not depend on Maduro personally. It depended on the Orinoco Mining Arc— the 112,000-square-kilometre zone created in 2016, ostensibly to formalize mining and attract foreign capital, which instead became a jointly-run enterprise of senior military officers, Colombian guerrilla factions and Venezuela’s most violent prison-born crime syndicate, Tren de Aragua.

The arrangement was straightforward and durable: the military and political establishment provided protection and looked away; armed groups collected extortion taxes from miners and enforced order with their own courts and their own punishments; everyone with a stake in the system had reason to keep it running regardless of who occupied the Miraflores Palace. Acting president Delcy Rodríguez; herself under EU travel sanctions — was reported in 2020 to have personally moved over US$68 million in gold bars to Spain, which gives some sense of how far up the chain the arrangement reached.

None of the men who built or benefited from that system left with Maduro. Tren de Aragua, designated a foreign terrorist organization by the US in February 2025, is named explicitly in the pending US Legal Gold and Mining Partnership Act now moving through the Senate. So are the Colombian guerrilla group ELN and the broader network of Venezuelan sindicatos — armed collectives such as Las Claritas, led by Tren de Aragua founding figure Yohan “Johan Petrica” Romero, which taxes miners and traders across Bolívar state and has survived both government offensives and rival incursions by leaning on its old relationship with Chavista power structures.

That is the point analysts keep making and that Guyanese officials keep underplaying: removing Maduro removes a figurehead, not an economy. If political uncertainty in Caracas increases, the incentive for these groups to fight over territory rises. If a new protection arrangement stabilizes instead, they simply consolidate and intensify what they were already doing. Either way, the gold still has to move — and increasingly, it is Guyana it moves through, and increasingly, from.

THE REVERSAL: GOLD NOW FLOWS OUT OF GUYANA, NOT IN

For years, the accepted wisdom along the border was that Venezuelan gold moved into Guyana — smuggled across to evade the sanctions regime imposed on Caracas since 2018, laundered through Guyanese buying houses and export documentation, and shipped onward with a paper trail scrubbed clean of its origin. That pattern has inverted.

An investigative report published in March 2026 by the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organized Crime (GI-TOC)  authored by Marcena Hunter, Gabriel Funari and Sophia Pickles — documents Guyana as a source of gold now flowing into Venezuela, not merely a laundering point for gold flowing out of it. Venezuelan military generals, the report finds, are paying an 8 percent premium above international market prices to Guyanese traffickers willing to sell across the border; a margin wide enough to outbid Guyana’s own legal domestic gold-buying market and pull supply directly out of the formal chain.

“Illicit gold from Brazil and Guyana is increasingly moving into Venezuela, where military buyers are prepared to pay a premium.”

— GI-TOC, “Shifting Amazon Gold Flows” (March 2026)

The mechanics are specific enough to map. Gold moves by road from Lethem, on the Guyana-Brazil border, to Boa Vista in the Brazilian state of Roraima, which the GI-TOC report identifies as the region’s primary aggregation hub — the point where Guyanese and Brazilian gold are pooled together before being trucked or flown onward into Venezuela. Private airstrips, including ones inside Guyana, are used to move consignments of 20 to 100 kilograms at a time, a volume large enough to matter and small enough to stay below the threshold that tends to trigger community-level notice or law-enforcement attention. When one border tightens, the report notes, the flow simply displaces to a softer one — and the Guyana-Venezuela border, running along the Cuyuní River through the disputed Essequibo region Venezuela itself claims, is among the softest available.

The Cuyuní corridor is not merely a transit route. Indigenous leaders in the area report that armed actors — some tied to sindicato networks, some to guerrilla factions like the ELN operating out of the Venezuelan town of San Martín de Turumbang, just across the river from Guyana’s Eteringbang; now collect payment from people heading upriver into mining areas on both the Guyanese and Venezuelan sides. That is a rent extracted on Guyanese soil, or immediately adjacent to it, by armed groups answering to no Guyanese authority. Guyana Defence Force patrols along the river have twice this year come under fire from the Venezuelan bank — once in May, and once in an earlier incident a pattern of hostile contact that sits uneasily alongside official framing of the border as a normal, if disputed, frontier.

The financial engineering layered on top is, if anything, more advanced than the physical smuggling. The GI-TOC report documents a “crypto-for-gold” mechanism in which gold moving out of Guyana is exchanged for Tether, the US dollar-pegged stablecoin, allowing Venezuelan military buyers and criminal brokers to settle instantly and opaquely, outside the reach of Guyana’s own financial-intelligence apparatus. From there the gold’s trail goes cold: GI-TOC cites evidence of onward export to Turkey, Iran and China, or retention as an undeclared reserve by the same military officials who kept their positions through Absolute Resolve.

THE SAME CORRIDOR, A SECOND COMMODITY

Guyana’s gold problem and Guyana’s drug problem are not two stories. They are the same geography, the same infrastructure, and increasingly the same operators, running two commodities through one set of rivers, airstrips and ports.

US Treasury sanctions announced against Guyanese trafficker Paul Daby Jr. in mid-2025 did not describe a narcotics operation with a side interest in gold — they described a single logistics network. Daby Jr. was sanctioned for coordinating multi-ton cocaine shipments from Colombia and Venezuela by aircraft, using illegal airstrips inside Guyana, and concealing loads in shipping containers moving out of Guyanese and Surinamese ports. The same Treasury notice names him as separately involved in smuggling illegal gold out of Guyana by sea. One network, two exports, the same weak points: 

Porous land borders, under-monitored ports, remote airstrips and, as the US State Department’s own assessment has repeatedly noted, corruption that reaches into the institutions meant to stop it.

The narcotics volumes moving through Guyana have grown sharply enough to draw their own warnings from regional analysts. Guyanese authorities seized just 85 kilograms of cocaine in 2023 and 236 kilograms the following year — modest totals that sit oddly alongside the country’s role in a 4.4-ton seizure in August 2024 and a 2.4-ton seizure from a semi-submersible 150 miles off the Guyanese coast, both achieved only with direct US Drug Enforcement Administration involvement rather than through independent Guyanese detection. Analysts tracking the region now argue explicitly that US military pressure on Venezuela is displacing trafficking routes rather than closing them, and that Guyana — with new seaports, rapid economic growth and exactly the infrastructural gaps traffickers have exploited for a decade — is the most attractive place for that displaced traffic to land. Cocaine shipments traced back to Guyanese ports have already turned up in Trinidad, in Antwerp, and as far away as West Africa, where GI-TOC researchers have specifically flagged an uptick in cocaine arriving from Guyana and Suriname since 2023.

The through-line is not coincidence. It is a single regional criminal economy — Colombian and Venezuelan supply, Guyanese and Surinamese transit infrastructure, sindicato and guerrilla enforcement on the ground, and a financial system agile enough to launder either gold or cocaine proceeds through the same crypto and shell-company channels; that has simply expanded to fill the space Guyana’s growth has opened up.

Gold and cocaine are not competing stories for space in this newsroom. They are one story about what happens to a small, resource-rich, institutionally thin state sitting next to a collapsing one.

WHAT GEORGETOWN HAS SAID, AND WHAT IT HAS NOT DONE

President Ali has not been silent on this. Speaking alongside US Ambassador Nicole Theriot at an event hosted at the American embassy in Georgetown, Ali stated that Guyana is “putting enormous resources into ensuring that the threat of illicit gold smuggling that can help empower or safeguard undemocratic forces is uprooted,” and separately claimed Venezuela was being forced to spend significant resources cracking down on gold smuggled in the other direction — a claim Caracas rejected outright, with the Maduro-era foreign ministry accusing Ali of “rendering accounts to his true masters” for making the remarks from inside the US embassy rather than from a Guyanese platform. Ambassador Theriot, for her part, praised US-Guyana security cooperation as “the strongest it has ever been.”

That exchange, whatever else it reveals about the diplomatic temperature between Georgetown and Caracas, revealed something else worth noting: a public claim of enormous resources being committed, made at a friendly embassy event, with no accompanying seizure figures, no named enforcement operation, and no indication of what This publication has documented the pattern before, across noise-nuisance enforcement, AI-misinformation penalties and hinterland airline fares alike: an announcement calibrated to the audience in the room, unaccompanied by the institutional follow-through that would make it verifiable. Cross-border criminal gold flows, GDF soldiers taking fire from across the river, and a documented Guyanese role in hemispheric cocaine trafficking are not the kind of threat that responds to a press-conference commitment. They respond to seizure data, prosecutions, and the kind of institutional capacity Guyana has shown, in sector after sector this publication has covered, that it does not yet reliably have.

The pending US Legal Gold and Mining Partnership Act offers Guyana a genuine opening — improved intelligence-sharing, stronger supply-chain oversight, collaboration with producer nations willing to be genuine partners rather than convenient transit points.

Whether Georgetown treats that opening as a chance to build real capacity, or as another occasion for a press conference at the embassy, is the question this series will keep asking as it continues.

Part Two of this series will examine the institutional response — or the absence of one — inside Guyana’s own regulatory and law-enforcement architecture.

SOURCES

Global Initiative Against Transnational Organized Crime, “Illicit Gold Trafficking to Venezuela and the Implications of US Action” (March 2026) and “Shifting Amazon Gold Flows” report, as reported by Kaieteur News (April 5, 2026); InSight Crime, “A Golden Opportunity: Maduro and Venezuelan Miners Target Essequibo”; InSight Crime, “Amid US Strikes, Booming Guyana Could Become Drug Trafficking Hub” (March 2026); International Crisis Group, “A Curse of Gold: Mining and Violence in Venezuela’s South”; US Department of the Treasury/OFAC sanctions notice on Paul Daby Jr. and Randolph Duncan networks; US State Department International Narcotics Control Strategy Report; Venezuelanalysis; Wikipedia “2026 in Guyana” chronology of Cuyuní River incidents.

Prem Narine disclosures: Murders covered up, U.S. stained -Pt II

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Prem Narine disclosures: Murders covered up, U.S. stained -Pt II


OPINION BY : GHK LALL September 2026

Is American Ambassador to Guyana, Excellency Nicole D. Theriot, still touting the PPP Govt as democracy as its finest?  Is Secretary of State, Mr. Marco Rubio, still hailing the special relationship between the U.S. government and Guyana’s PPP Govt?  Is CEO Darren Woods and Country Head, Alistair Routledge, Exxon’s cardinals, still selling the PPP Govt as the best partners that anyone can want?

They should read the media reports of the Guyana’s Snr Supt, Prem Narine, and his expressive, explosive, testimony about six execution-style murders.  Allegedly by a close friend of the same PPP Govt that went nowhere.  Nowhere despite the evidence.  Nowhere, most likely because of the millions donated.  Never for that evidence that pointed to one PPP insider to see the light of day until now when the PPP Govt and its friend have a parting of the ways. 

Truth be told, the U.S. Ambassador doesn’t need the Guyana media to publish what its own intelligence network already confirmed.  Further, U.S. ambassadors are the best expert witnesses on how Guyana Governments own and control, dominate and decide for, the Guyana Police Force, on major developments of this nature.  This is not a 2026 development, but one that goes back at least six decades.  Now with the senior superintendent overnight confessions about the way that things went down (concealed and condemned to close confinement) with those six murders, will Ambassador Theriot still be waxing brightly about democracy in relation to the PPP Govt?  Will Excellency Rubio still be selling his special relationship with those who coddle an alleged serial murderer, Guyana’s equivalent of America’s Green River killer?  Will CEO Woods and Exxon Guyana Country Chief, Mr. Alistair Routledge, still be making a huge production of the Exxon-PPP Govt partnership?  Will they, when the PPP Govt covers over Guyana’s alleged equivalent of Charles Whitman, the Texas University Tower mass murderer from back in 1966?  I would hope not. 

I trust that easy access to Guyana’s oil doesn’t mean so much that partners in heinous crimes are given a free pass.  Without a word said.  Without a visa restricted.  Without some sanctions applied, if only to save face.

Wakeup call and reality check for Guyanese.  Don’t hold breath.  If the U.S. could have dealt with Chile’s Pinochet (a 10,000-man mass murderer), then Guyana’s PPP Govt and its itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny half dozen murders isn’t anything to get carried away over, or cry about.  Collateral damage.  Just like how arms of the U.S. Government used Panamanian strongman Manuel Noriega to flood Black American communities in California with mind altering substances and send those already poor, depressed communities back into the Stone Age. 

With those backgrounds, why should the murders of six meaningless nonwhite Guyanese matter that much to America?  Why should Americans care?

If the PPP Govt wasn’t such a groveling flunky (sanctity of contract) to Exxon and wider American interests, then maybe the six murders could have been a tipping point.  A point of damnation and no return for the PPP.  But not when it is how it is.  The PPP Govt sold itself.  The American Govt bought into the bargain.  Now the Americans have to swallow hard, and position these murder exposures as a domestic matter.  Like hell it is!  The man that the U.S. wants is the alleged mass murderer.  The U.S. wants him as a gold smuggler, a tax evader, and a money launderer, as charged.  So, don’t tell Guyanese that the same quarry, now an alleged murderer isn’t of interest.  Nor those who covered over his crimes a nonissue. What does not rise to the level of urgent concern.

Inarguably, the PPP Govt had much involvement in the suppression of murder evidence.  The police environment is built that way, under PPP Govt instructions.  U.S. Government agents know this.  They should avoid being a party to crimes covering up crimes.

Guyana Is Feeding Exxon’s Profits. The Public Deserves the Full Truth.

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Guyana Is Feeding Exxon’s Profits. The Public Deserves the Full Truth.


The New York Times is right to identify Guyana as a major source of ExxonMobil’s expanding global profits. What the newspaper does not say bluntly enough is that this outcome was not inevitable. It arose from a production-sharing agreement negotiated before the full scale of the Stabroek Block was known, then defended by successive governments even after the basin ceased to be a speculative frontier and became one of the most prolific offshore petroleum provinces on earth.

Guyana’s oil wealth is immense. So is the disparity between the value extracted from its seabed and the share that reaches the Guyanese people under the existing arrangement.

 The question is not whether ExxonMobil should earn a profit. Companies invest to earn returns. The question is whether Guyana’s leaders have made a serious, sustained effort to ensure that the country’s people receive a fair and growing share from a national patrimony that has turned Exxon into one of the petroleum industry’s great success stories.

Exxon’s Guyana Windfall

Guyana has become central to ExxonMobil’s future. The Stabroek Block has delivered repeated discoveries, massive recoverable-resource estimates, rapid production growth and a pipeline of developments capable of generating revenue for decades.

That is why the New York Times’ framing matters. Guyana is not an incidental asset in Exxon’s global portfolio. It is a crown jewel. It is a low-cost, high-volume offshore province in the Western Hemisphere, offering Exxon production growth, shareholder value and long-term cash flow at a time when large, commercially attractive discoveries are increasingly difficult to find.

The oil beneath Guyana’s waters has helped Exxon strengthen its balance sheet, expand output and project confidence about its future. Yet the country from which this wealth is extracted remains burdened by inadequate infrastructure, unequal access to opportunity, rising living costs, weak public services and serious concerns about whether oil wealth is being translated into broad national development.

It contradiction is at the heart of Guyana’s oil story.

A Contract Built for Risk

The 2016 Production Sharing Agreement was signed when the Stabroek Block was still presented as a frontier petroleum province with geological, financial and operational uncertainty. At that stage, the argument was that generous terms were needed to attract capital and compensate the company for risk. But that risk argument has collapsed under the weight of events.

The basin has been de-risked by repeated discoveries, appraisal work, production history, infrastructure development and the accumulation of geological data. What was once a high-risk exploration gamble has become a proven petroleum system with multiple producing projects, further development potential and a resource base that has transformed Guyana’s economic outlook.

Yet the fiscal terms associated with the early stage of uncertainty remain effectively frozen in place.

Under the present arrangement, the contractor group can recover up to 75 percent of petroleum revenue as cost oil. The remaining 25 percent is classified as profit oil and split equally, leaving Guyana with 12.5 percent of gross petroleum revenue from profit oil during the maximum cost-recovery period. Added to that is the 2 percent royalty, bringing Guyana’s effective gross share in that phase to about 14.5 percent.

This is the central fact that must not be obscured by impressive revenue totals.

Guyana can receive billions of dollars and still be receiving a poor deal relative to the scale, certainty and profitability of the resource. Large sums do not automatically mean fair terms. A country can be richer than before while still receiving far less than it reasonably should from its own patrimony.

The Tax Fiction

The arrangement becomes even more troubling when one considers taxes. Guyana is required to treat Exxon and its partners as though they have paid income taxes, but the tax obligation is met from Guyana’s own share of profit oil. Put plainly, the State uses a portion of its own petroleum entitlement to discharge the contractor’s tax liability.

The companies receive a tax certificate. The State records tax revenue. But Guyana does not receive an additional cash payment from the contractor equal to a normal corporate income-tax contribution

This is why Guyanese must reject superficial claims that the country receives royalty, profit oil and taxes as though these are entirely separate streams of new revenue. The tax arrangement is not a bonus layered on top of Guyana’s oil share. It is an obligation met out of Guyana’s own entitlement.

That is not merely an accounting issue. It goes to the heart of the public’s ability to understand what Guyana actually receives.

Sanctity Is Not Surrender

For years, the Government has answered calls for renegotiation with a single phrase: “sanctity of contract.”

Contracts matter. A country cannot casually disregard legal obligations, seize private rights or rewrite agreements by decree without consequences. Investor confidence, the rule of law and national credibility require governments to act responsibly.

But sanctity of contract is not a doctrine for national silence.

It does not prevent Guyana from writing ExxonMobil and its partners. It does not prohibit the Government from inviting them to discussions. It does not bar Guyana from requesting voluntary amendments, seeking improved fiscal terms for future developments, strengthening local-content commitments, demanding more disclosure, revisiting environmental safeguards or negotiating better protections for the people.

A contract can be respected while its parties are asked to return to the table. Indeed, the agreement itself allows for amendments by mutual consent. The issue, therefore, is not whether Guyana can unilaterally force Exxon to accept new terms without legal risk. It is whether the Government has demonstrated the political will to make the case for change, formally approach the companies and place the national interest at the center of the discussion.

There is a profound difference between being legally constrained from unilateral action and being politically unwilling even to ask.

The Silence After 2022

There is another question that requires urgent attention: the public disclosure of exploration results.

The last widely publicized discovery declaration from Exxon in the Stabroek Block was in 2022. Since then, Guyanese have watched drilling activity, appraisal work, project expansion and production growth in a basin already known to be extraordinarily rich in hydrocarbons.

No responsible observer should claim that every well drilled must produce a new commercial discovery. Exploration wells can be dry. Appraisal wells may confirm or narrow an existing discovery. Some hydrocarbon encounters may require more testing before their commercial significance can be determined. Other results may not justify a separate development announcement.

But four years without publicly declared new discoveries in a de-risked, oil-rich basin is not a trivial matter. It is a transparency issue of the highest national importance.

The public should not be asked to accept a policy of silence while the operator possesses an increasingly detailed understanding of the country’s offshore resources. The public needs more than celebratory announcements when production targets are met or new floating production vessels are sanctioned. Guyanese need a full account of what has been drilled, what has been found and what has been reported to the State.

If wells were dry, say so. If hydrocarbons were encountered but require appraisal, say so. If new accumulations were discovered and incorporated into existing development areas, say so. If prospects were tested and found to be non-commercial, say so.

Silence is not transparency. It cannot become the operating principle for the management of Guyana’s oil patrimony.

The Data Belongs to Guyana

This brings the country to the most fundamental question of all: who owns the granular exploration and well data generated from Guyana’s offshore petroleum resources?

ExxonMobil may have financed exploration. It may have deployed the rigs, geological expertise, seismic technology, engineering capacity and capital. But the petroleum belongs to Guyana. The seabed belongs to Guyana. The resource information derived from drilling into Guyana’s offshore block is not merely corporate intelligence. It is information about the country’s national patrimony.

The Government must therefore state plainly:

⇒ What well data has Exxon submitted to the State since 2022?

⇒ What seismic, drilling, logging, pressure, core, fluid and appraisal data does Guyana hold? 

⇒ Which wells encountered hydrocarbons, and what was the classification of each encounter?

⇒ Which finds are commercially viable, awaiting appraisal, considered contingent or judged non-commercial?

⇒ Has Guyana received updated estimates of recoverable resources across the Stabroek Block?

⇒ Are any discoveries, extensions or new reservoirs being incorporated into existing projects without distinct public disclosure?

⇒ What information is protected for a legitimate period of commercial confidentiality, and when will it be released?

⇒ Does the regulator have the technical capacity and institutional independence to interpret the data it receives?

The answer cannot be that Guyanese must wait indefinitely for Exxon to decide what information is suitable for public release.

 A Test of Government

The Government’s responsibility is not to serve as Exxon’s public-relations shield. Its duty is to protect Guyana’s sovereign interests, demand full compliance with the law and ensure that the country’s citizens understand the value of the assets being extracted in their name.

A government that continuously defends an inherited contract while refusing even to make a formal case for improvement sends a damaging message: that the terms negotiated at the beginning of the oil era are beyond public challenge, regardless of how much the basin has changed.

That is not prudent statecraft. It is an abdication of the State’s bargaining responsibility.

The question is not whether Exxon has behaved like a corporation seeking profit. It has done what multinational oil companies do: pursue advantageous terms, recover investment quickly, protect commercial information and maximize shareholder returns.

The question is whether Guyana’s leaders have acted with the same determination on behalf of Guyanese citizens.

Guyana Must Demand Answers

The country does not need reckless unilateral action. It needs transparency, competence, independent oversight and a Government willing to use every lawful avenue available to improve Guyana’s position.

That means placing the full exploration record before the relevant State institutions. It means ensuring independent technical review of well and seismic data. It means public reporting that distinguishes between exploration wells, appraisal wells, dry holes, hydrocarbon shows, contingent resources and commercially viable discoveries. It means a national conversation about whether the fiscal terms of 2016 remain acceptable in a basin whose wealth is now beyond serious doubt.

And it means rejecting the false claim that respecting a contract requires Guyana to remain silent.

ExxonMobil’s success in Guyana is undeniable. The New York Times is correct to say that Guyana is feeding the profits of America’s largest oil company. But the real national question is whether Guyana is receiving the information, the leverage and the courage required to protect its own future.

Who owns the granular well data on Guyana’s patrimony? If Guyana has not surrendered its sovereignty, then Guyana owns it—and the Guyanese public deserves to see what Exxon has found beneath the country’s waters.

Guyana’s oil wealth is generating extraordinary profits for ExxonMobil and unprecedented revenues for the State. Yet for too many Guyanese, the daily reality remains rising food prices, inadequate housing, unreliable public services, struggling communities and a painful sense that the promised prosperity has not reached them.

This is not simply an economic failure; it is a failure of empathy and public duty. ExxonMobil operates in a country whose offshore wealth is reshaping its global fortunes. It cannot credibly celebrate partnership while remaining indifferent to the conditions under which ordinary Guyanese live, or while resisting calls for greater transparency, fairness and a more meaningful contribution to national development.

But the greater responsibility rests with the Government of Guyana. Governments are elected to defend the people—not to recite “sanctity of contract” as though it ends every conversation about fairness. Respect for contracts does not require surrender of sovereignty. It does not prevent the State from writing Exxon, demanding answers, seeking voluntary improvements, insisting on fuller disclosure, or placing the legitimate concerns of citizens on the negotiating table.

The Government’s continued refusal even to test Exxon’s willingness to revisit aspects of an agreement negotiated before the full value of the Stabroek basin was known is a troubling display of intransigence. A State that will not fight for better terms, better disclosure and stronger protections cannot credibly claim it has exhausted its responsibility to the people.

The issue is not whether Exxon should profit. The issue is whether Guyana’s leaders possess the courage to insist that the country’s unprecedented wealth produces dignity, security and opportunity for the citizens in whose name the resource is being extracted.

Guyana deserves more than oil announcements, production records and ceremonial promises. It deserves empathy from Exxon, resolve from its Government, and a leadership prepared to fight—openly, lawfully and relentlessly—for every Guyanese.

 

Truth Cannot Be Selective

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Truth Cannot Be Selective


As a journalist who has built this platform on accountability, integrity, and the duty to hold power to account; regardless of whose story is being told—I believe it is necessary to intervene in this latest tit-for-tat between competing political factions. I was present at the event in question, not as an advocate for any party, but to observe and report fairly, accurately, and in the public interest. Too often, Guyanese are being misled by politically driven social-media narratives, selective footage, exaggerated claims, and partisan interpretations of events. The public should not become collateral damage in a contest for political advantage. There is an old saying: when elephants fight, it is the grass  that suffer . In this case, ordinary Guyanese; the people seeking facts, accountability, and trustworthy leadership—are the ones most harmed when truth is sacrificed for propaganda. This intervention is therefore intended to set the record straight about what actually occurred.

There is a basic standard that every political party seeking public office must meet: tell the truth about what the public can plainly see.

WIN is entitled to organize, protest, criticize the Government, challenge President Irfaan Ali, and raise serious questions about corruption, public spending, the MV Barima, public services, accountability, and the administration of justice. Those questions are not only legitimate; they are necessary in any functioning democracy.

But the right to criticize does not include the right to manufacture a version of events that contradicts the evidence.

Thursday night’s presidential outreach in Queens was, by any fair reading, among the strongest diaspora events held by a Guyanese President in recent years. The room had an FDNY capacity of approximately 350 persons. It was full. People were left outside because the venue could not legally accommodate everyone who wanted to enter. Others left after waiting for an event that started later than planned. Those departures should not be falsely repackaged as proof that there was no support for President Ali.

The President’s late arrival is fair ground for criticism. People gave their time, travelled across New York and beyond, and deserved a prompt start. But it is intellectually dishonest to use the delay to deny the obvious: there was overwhelming interest in the event, a packed venue, and a significant crowd outside.

A Small Protest Is Still Legitimate

The protest was lawful and legitimate. Every Guyanese has the right to raise a placard, ask questions, criticize a political leader, and demand accountability.

But a protest involving fewer than approximately 20 people cannot credibly be presented as the defining story of a gathering that drew an estimated 2,000+ people over the course of the evening. Nor is there credible basis to claim that a small group of protesters caused a delay of nearly two hours or that the President was somehow afraid of them.

The question is not whether the protest should have happened. It had been permitted, respected, and covered. The question is whether its size and political significance were honestly represented. They were not.

A political party weakens its own moral argument when it condemns the Government for spin, concealment, and manipulation while using the same methods in its own public messaging

The Chapter-Launch Precedent

This is not an isolated concern. At WIN’s recent New York chapter launch, there were public claims portraying the occasion as a “sold-out” or historic gathering. Those claims were challenged by the 592 Guardian, which reported that the attendance had been overstated. The public challenge drew an immediate response, but the misinformation was still circulated through several media outlets.

The exact attendance figure is less important than the wider lesson: political organizations should not confuse ambition with evidence.

A young party has a right to celebrate modest beginnings. There is no shame in starting small. Every consequential movement begins with a handful of committed people, builds trust, develops policy, recruits credible leaders, and earns support through consistent work.

The problem arises when a party tries to create momentum by misrepresenting it. Inflated attendance, exaggerated claims of political impact, and selective descriptions of public events may create a brief social-media impression. But they eventually damage the organization’s credibility—especially among people who were present and know exactly what occurred.

A Mandate Is an Exchange of Trust

When a party asks citizens for a mandate, it is asking them to make an exchange of trust.

Voters are effectively saying: We will give you authority over public money, laws, institutions, national assets, and the direction of the country because we believe you will act honestly and responsibly. That trust cannot be demanded while truth is treated as optional.

A party cannot call for transparency while obscuring basic facts. It cannot condemn alleged Government deception while engaging in exaggeration and misinformation. It cannot demand that public officials meet high ethical standards while excusing those standards within its own ranks.

That is not principled opposition. It is duplicity.

Several early WIN supporters have reportedly become disillusioned and stepped away. Their concern is not that the party criticizes the Government; Guyana needs vigorous criticism, organized civic pressure, and a credible opposition. Their concern is that the party may be repeating the same political habits it claims to oppose.

That is a warning WIN should take seriously.

Opposition Must Be Credible

Guyana needs a vibrant opposition. It needs political organizations that can examine contracts, challenge questionable spending, demand answers over allegations of corruption, defend citizens who face discrimination or abuse, and put forward workable alternatives.

But an opposition cannot acquire credibility merely by being loud, confrontational, or anti-government. It earns credibility through facts, discipline, policy, internal democracy, ethical conduct, and the courage to correct itself publicly.

 If WIN expects to be regarded as a government-in-waiting, it must embrace a basic principle of leadership: tell the truth even when the truth is inconvenient. If it wants to be taken seriously as a party capable of governing, it must hold itself to the same moral and ethical standards it demands from the PPP-C Government.

Political credibility cannot be built by dismissing large crowds as staged, minimizing public enthusiasm, or transforming a small protest into a national awakening.

That means:

♦  Correct exaggerated claims when they are identified.

♦  Distinguish opinions from verified facts.

♦ Acknowledge the scale of events honestly, whether the crowd is 20, 350, or 2,000+

♦ Stop treating every disagreement as proof of conspiracy or political persecution.

♦ Welcome hard questions about its own leadership, financing, structure, conduct, and public statements.

♦ Build support through credible policies and sustained community work rather than manufactured narratives.

The Record Must Be Honest

Thursday night’s event was not proof that the PPP has no problems, nor was it proof that every Guyanese in New York supports President Ali. It did, however, demonstrate that he retains considerable support and political appeal within the diaspora.

The meeting was sold out. The venue reached its permitted capacity. Many people were unable to enter. There was visible enthusiasm among attendees. There was also criticism, questioning, frustration over the late start, and concern over unresolved national issues.

That is the honest account.

For an observer who has consistently scrutinized the PPP Government and held its feet to the fire, the level of support seen at the event may be surprising. But journalism is not about reporting only what confirms one’s expectations or political preferences. It is about recording what happened.

And what happened in Queens was that President Irfaan Ali drew one of the strongest diaspora crowds seen at a presidential outreach event in years—while WIN mounted a small but legitimate protest that should neither be demonized nor exaggerated.

This intervention is not an endorsement of the PPP-C nor an indictment of WIN. Its an honest assesment of the facts.  The Government must continue to answer for matters that concern Guyanese: allegations of corruption, public procurement, debt, cost of living, the MV Barima, infrastructure delivery, health care, water, electricity, public safety, institutional independence, and equal opportunity.

No government should be insulated from scrutiny.

But neither should an opposition party be exempt from the standards it insists everyone else must meet. The first obligation of anyone asking to lead Guyana is honesty with the Guyanese people. A party that distorts the size of its own events and minimizes crowds it does not like is not merely engaging in political spin. It risks betraying the public trust before it has even earned the opportunity to govern.

Guyana deserves better than political deception dressed up as change.

To the Victor Belong the Spoils —But Whose Spoils, and Whose Silence?

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 THE GRAMMAR OF PATRONAGE

To the Victor Belong the Spoils —But Whose Spoils, and Whose Silence?


OPINION BY: Hem Kumar September 2026

Delcy Rodríguez traded oil for absolution in New York. Georgetown is being asked to accept a quieter version of the same bargain — and Washington’s silence, once broken only by a reporter’s question, is the tell.

On September 22nd, Donald Trump grinned and gave a thumbs-up as he posed for a photograph beside Delcy Rodríguez, Venezuela’s unelected interim president, at the United Nations General Assembly in Manhattan. Seven miles away, in a Brooklyn jail, sat Nicolás Maduro — the man US special forces dragged from his compound in Caracas in January, and the man on whose behalf Rodríguez once served as vice president. The next day, from the same rostrum where she had denounced Washington’s “state terrorism” in 2019, Rodríguez thanked Trump for “renewing cooperation,” pledged elections with no date attached, and declared, of the oil agreement her government struck with Washington last month, that “to the victor belong the spoils.”

It is a precise epitaph for the arrangement. The deal grants the United States effective control over more than 65 billion barrels of Venezuela’s proven oil reserves. Trump is pursuing some $100 billion in fresh investment into an industry Rodríguez’s government now administers largely at Washington’s pleasure. An AtlasIntel/Bloomberg poll finds more than 60 percent of Venezuelans disapprove of her leadership.

She did not set a date for the vote she promised. She did not need to. She had already secured the only endorsement that currently matters: a photograph, a handshake, and a president who has said, through an aide, that “Delcy is a key to that” — Venezuela being, in the same breath, called “the president’s top success.”

Guyana’s editors will recognise the shape of this trade before they recognise its details. We have our own oil, our own patron, and — as of this week — our own quiet accumulation of American financing arriving in a season when this country’s own democratic machinery has sat idle for a year. The question this editorial puts to President Ali’s government, and to Washington, is not whether Georgetown is Caracas. It plainly is not; on the one front where Venezuela pressed hardest — the Essequibo — Ali held his ground at the same UN podium Rodríguez had used a day earlier, rejecting her call to bypass the International Court of Justice in favour of bilateral talks she does not have standing to demand. That is on the public record and this newroom will not pretend otherwise.

The question is narrower, and closer to home: on the front where Venezuela’s president has openly deferred her own electorate — the promise of a vote, indefinitely delayed; does Guyana’s government enjoy a comparable deference from the same patron? And if so, on what terms is that deference being extended?

A DEADLINE ALREADY MISSED, QUIETLY

Guyana’s local government elections are constitutionally biennial. The last were held in June 2023, themselves three years late. The next are statutorily due by November 2026. Standing in the way is the Guyana Elections Commission, which has not convened a single meeting since the September 2025 general and regional elections — not one, in a year — and whose composition still answers to a Parliament that no longer exists. The three opposition-nominated commissioners, Vincent Alexander, Charles Corbin and Desmond Trotman, were seated by APNU+AFC, the coalition that lost its status as the principal opposition bloc to Azruddin Mohamed’s WIN in the 2025 election. WIN, the largest opposition party in the National Assembly, holds zero seats on the body that will decide whether, and how, the next elections are run.

Opposition Leader Mohamed submitted replacement nominees to President Ali on June 30th. He received no substantive response. He followed up on August 7th. Still nothing. On August 19th, his office issued a formal statement, “Guyana’s Electoral Institutions at a Crossroads,” and dispatched it directly to the United Nations Secretary-General, the CARICOM Secretary-General, the British and Canadian High Commissioners, the Carter Center — and the United States Ambassador, Nicole Theriot, by name.

“Constitutional and electoral institutions should recognise enduring democratic principles, not the identities of particular political parties. Governments change. Oppositions change. Political parties change. The constitutional framework must endure.”

That is the opposition’s own language, and it is worth sitting with, because it is notably modest in what it asks of the international community. It does not ask Washington, or London, or the Carter Center, to intervene in Guyana’s domestic legal affairs. It asks them to watch, and to say so — to lend the ordinary, low-cost weight of attention that a functioning diplomatic community extends to a democratic ally whose electoral machinery has stalled.

It is, in other words, an invitation to exactly the kind of statement these missions have issued jointly before, most recently on election day in September 2025, when the Commonwealth, the European Union and the Carter Center spoke together.

FIVE WEEKS OF NOTHING, THEN A QUESTION

The Carter Center, to its credit, did not wait to be asked. On August 5th — a full two weeks before Mohamed’s office formally addressed the diplomatic corps — the Center issued its own statement, noting “with considerable concern the current impasse surrounding the composition” of GECOM, and warning plainly that without a functioning commission, “GECOM will be unable to organize local government elections by the statutory deadline this year.” It was issued alone. Not jointly with the US Embassy. Not jointly with the European Union.

A solo statement, from the one international body in Guyana whose institutional memory of this country’s elections runs longest.

What followed that statement, and Mohamed’s direct appeal to her by name three weeks later, was five weeks of silence from the United States Embassy in Georgetown. No statement. No press release. Nothing from the State Department in Washington either — whose only public word on Guyana’s elections since the 2025 vote remains a one-paragraph congratulatory note to President Ali on his reelection, issued the week of the vote itself, and silent on everything that has happened to this country’s electoral machinery since.

The silence broke on September 23rd — not in a statement, not in a briefing, but on the sidelines of an unrelated gathering, the 27th Americas Regional Conference, when a reporter asked Ambassador Theriot directly whether she considered Mohamed’s concerns valid. “He’s the leader of the opposition and we take his concerns very seriously,” she said, “and we have, indeed, all received that correspondence, all of the diplomats that I know here in Guyana, and we take it very seriously and his concerns are valid.” Asked whether GECOM needed to move forward, she did not equivocate:

“Absolutely! GECOM does need to move forward because the standstill that they’re in now will prohibit regional elections and local elections from happening. And that’s not good for democracy.”

Those are, on their face, the correct words. Those are also words that existed, evidently, for five weeks before anyone heard them — held in reserve until a journalist’s question made their withholding no longer tenable. Theriot disclosed, in the same exchange, that the diplomatic missions have been meeting individually with the opposition rather than issuing anything jointly. That is itself a downgrade from the coordinated posture Washington, London, Ottawa, Brussels and the Carter Center were willing to adopt as recently as election day 2025.

A joint statement carries cost; it commits every signatory publicly, on the record, to a shared position. Individual meetings, held quietly and disclosed only when asked, carry none.

THE FINANCING ARRIVED ON SCHEDULE

Whatever hesitation attended Washington’s willingness to speak about Guyana’s stalled elections, no comparable hesitation attended its willingness to finance Guyana’s infrastructure. On the same UNGA sidelines where Ali met his moment with Rodríguez’s rival claim to the Essequibo, he also met with US EXIM Bank Chairman John Jovanovic, who confirmed the bank’s readiness to lend up to $550 million toward the second phase of the Wales Gas-to-Energy project — on top of the $527 million already committed to Phase One — while folding in fresh discussion of financing for the Berbice Deepwater Port, affordable housing, and security infrastructure. Jovanovic called it a portfolio: GTE, the port, housing, “security, and other areas of national interest.” Ali, for his part, thanked EXIM for “the partnership that is growing between US, EXIM, Guyana, and our other international stakeholders.”

Nothing about this financing is improper on its own terms, and this newsroom has covered its energy and industrial logic elsewhere. What is worth naming is the coincidence of timing and register. In the same week, at the same conference, by the same government, two separate American institutions delivered two separate messages to Georgetown: one, delivered proactively, unprompted, with dollar figures attached and a Chairman’s personal presence — money, moving. The other, delivered only under direct press questioning, with no dollar figures, no personal visit, and five weeks of prior silence — concern, withheld until asked.

Rodríguez received a photograph and a thumbs-up for deferring an election indefinitely. Ali received $550 million in financing discussions the same week his own elections commission marked a year without meeting — and an American ambassador’s endorsement of his opposition’s concerns arrived only because a reporter asked.

This is the precise sense in which the Rodríguez parallel holds, and the precise sense in which it must be qualified. Venezuela’s interim president converted acquiescence into visible reward: a handshake with the man who jailed her predecessor, staged for cameras, on the same trip where she declined to name an election date. Guyana’s president has not acquiesced on the Essequibo — the record from this week’s UNGA session shows him doing the opposite, anchoring Guyana’s position in the ICJ’s binding jurisdiction against Rodríguez’s own appeal, one day earlier from the same podium, to bypass it. That distinction matters and this newsroom will not blur it for the sake of a tidier analogy.

But the border is not the only front on which a government’s deference to Washington can be measured, and it is not the front this editorial is concerned with today. The deference in question here is domestic: whether Guyana’s own government, and Guyana’s own international observers, treat a year-long stall in the machinery of local democracy with the urgency the Carter Center itself has called for — or whether, as in Caracas, the appearance of partnership with Washington is permitted to substitute for the substance of an electoral calendar kept on time.

WHAT SILENCE COSTS

The Opposition Leader’s own framing bears repeating, because it anticipates the objection that this is somehow a request for foreign meddling. It is not. Guyana’s constitution, not Washington’s State Department, sets the statutory deadline for local government elections. Guyana’s own courts, not the Carter Center, are the appropriate venue for resolving whether Article 161(3)(b) requires GECOM’s opposition-nominated seats to reflect the 2025 result — a remedy Mohamed has repeatedly threatened to pursue and has not yet filed.

This publication has said elsewhere, of the parallel impasse in Region 10, that sitting on a legitimate grievance while hoping outsiders resolve it is resignation dressed up as leadership. The same indictment applies here, and it applies first to Georgetown’s opposition before it applies to anyone in Washington.,

But an invited observer’s silence is not neutral, and a diplomatic corps that reserves its concern for the moment a reporter forces the question is not merely being cautious — it is choosing, each of the five intervening weeks, not to spend the modest political capital that a public statement costs. Rodríguez’s government has learned precisely how little that capital costs a patron who wants a return on its investment more than it wants a functioning opposition on the other side of the ledger.

The test of whether Guyana’s government, and Guyana’s American patron, have learned the same lesson will not be settled by an ambassador’s answer to a question she did not volunteer to address. It will be settled by whether GECOM meets before November, whether local elections happen on the calendar the constitution sets, and whether the diplomatic community that professes to “take these concerns very seriously” is willing to say so before being asked — not after.

— The Board