Let’s stop pretending. What is happening in Guyana today is not development — it is domination, repackaged and rebranded by a new class of elites who have learned that power in this country is not about service but control. We have replaced foreign masters with local ones who speak our accents, wave our flags, and still treat the majority of us as pawns in their wealth building experiment.
We are living in the age of the new empire — an empire built not by British plantocracy, but by a plutocracy of local politicians, contractors, and businessmen feeding off our oil and gold economy while half the country struggles to eat. The same colonial logic that kept our ancestors in chains now keeps our communities in poverty. It is built on dependency, fear, and a carefully managed illusion that this is the best we can do.
Every gala, every private ball, every glittering “fancy people” photo splashed across social media is a taunt — a display of wealth extracted from public resources that belong to the working class, the single mothers, the vendors, the teachers, the nurses and the pensioners who keep this country running. In a resource rich nation where more than 50% of citizens live below the poverty line, poverty is not mere mismanagement. Poverty is a direct construct of policy.
The rot runs deep. We now have a state where loyalty outweighs integrity, where accountability is mocked, and where the same names keep circulating through political appointments, business deals, and government contracts. When corruption becomes culture, injustice becomes normal. And this normal is stifling our hopes and aspirations.
Even worse is how many have been conditioned to accept silence as safety. To question power is seen as disloyalty. To demand better is framed as ungratefulness. But we cannot let fear dictate our future. The same system that keeps us poor keeps us divided — racially, politically, and psychologically — because division is the easiest way to rule without resistance.
Let’s call it what it is: psychological warfare. When a government uses propaganda, patronage, and privilege to make citizens doubt their own worth, it is not leadership. It is manipulation. It is colonial control in national colours. We are meant to stay distracted, begging while they build empires in our name.
This is not the independence our foreparents fought for. Independence is not a slogan to be repeated on national holidays — it is a daily act of reclamation. It means refusing to let politicians and profiteers turn our resources into their private ATM. It means demanding consequences for those accused of misconduct and corruption, no matter how high their office. It means believing that Guyana belongs to us — every one of us — not just the politically connected or the socially elite.
If we continue down this path, our children will inherit an empty state wrapped in the illusion of prosperity — an empire rebuilt on our silence. But silence is what sustains oppression. So let’s break it. Let’s organize, question, and resist the normalization of poverty in a country overflowing with natural wealth.
The empire never really rode off on their horses, but returned in their chauffeur driven SUV’s. And simply learned to dance in white suits. But the people can still reclaim their power — if we remember that freedom is not given; it is demanded.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/img_0022-1-3.png7681374Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-19 05:45:052026-05-19 05:45:05A plutocracy of local politicians, contractors, and businessmen
Aging is inevitable, but how we age is deeply influenced by how we nourish our bodies. It is a privilege many overlook. When healthy habits are neglected and nutrition is unbalanced, our metabolic age can outpace our actual years, showing up in reduced energy, weaker bones, dull skin, and declining mental clarity.
For women especially, the connection between diet and wellbeing is undeniable. The foods we consume play a critical role in maintaining vitality, supporting hormonal balance, and preserving skin elasticity. Central to this is managing inflammation, a key driver of accelerated ageing. Diets rich in antioxidants and anti-inflammatory compounds can help slow this process and promote graceful aging.
Foods That Support Healthy Aging
A vibrant, balanced diet begins with a variety of fruits and vegetables. Colourful produce is packed with antioxidants, vitamins, and minerals that combat oxidative stress, one of the leading causes of premature ageing. Locally available options such as pawpaw, West Indian cherries, pommerac, oranges, portugal, sweet peppers, and tomatoes are especially beneficial. Vitamin C-rich foods are particularly important, as they support collagen production, helping to maintain firm, youthful skin.
Hydration is another cornerstone of healthy ageing. The skin is largely composed of water, and dehydration can accelerate visible signs of ageing. Incorporating hydrating foods such as watermelon, pineapple, cucumber, lettuce, and mango can help maintain skin health from within. Soups, herbal teas, and nutrient-rich smoothies also contribute to hydration while delivering antioxidants that support overall wellness.
Whole grains and fibre are equally essential. Dietary fibre supports digestion, stabilises blood sugar, and plays a role in hormonal balance. It also contributes to gut health, which is increasingly linked to immune function and skin clarity. Simple additions such as oats, whole wheat flour, and fibre-rich snacks can make a meaningful difference in daily nutrition.
Foods to Limit for Better Aging
While nourishing foods support longevity, certain dietary habits can accelerate ageing when consumed excessively. These include high sugar intake, ultra-processed foods, excessive alcohol, fried foods, and high-salt diets. Moderation is key, as these foods can contribute to inflammation, metabolic imbalance, and long-term health complications.
A Lifestyle, Not a Quick Fix
Healthy ageing is not about chasing perfection or resisting time. It is about intentional living. Women who prioritise balanced nutrition, reduce processed foods, manage stress, and commit to consistent wellness practices often experience greater strength, confidence, and vitality at every stage of life.
Eating well is not just about adding years to life, but life to years.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/img_0195.png7681408Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-18 11:28:332026-05-18 16:08:49Eating Well, Aging Better: Nourishing the Body for Lifelong Vitality
There is something deeply telling about the way governments reveal their true priorities — not in their budgets, not in their legislation, but in their posters.
The Environmental Protection Agency of Guyana, in partnership with the National Data Management Authority, recently announced the launch of a pilot noise monitoring and public warning system at Kitty Seawall. The technology itself — sensors that detect excessive noise levels in real time and trigger a public LED display warning — is, in principle, a sensible application of modern infrastructure to a longstanding civic irritant. Noise pollution is real. Its effects on health, community wellbeing, and quality of life are well-documented. A government agency deploying smart technology to address it deserves, at minimum, a fair hearing.
But then you look at the poster.
And when you look at the poster carefully — really carefully — something shifts. Because what the EPA and NDMA have produced is not a public information notice. It is not a civic announcement. It is not even a competent piece of government communication. What it is, stripped of its technical language and its official logos, is a campaign flyer. A political branding exercise. A taxpayer-funded advertisement for the presidency of Mohammed Irfaan Ali — delivered under the cover of environmental regulation.
The Portrait Problem
Let us be precise about what the poster actually contains, because precision matters here.
The announcement dedicates significant visual real estate — arguably the most emotionally arresting section of the entire design — to a full portrait photograph of President Ali, formally dressed, smiling, positioned against the Guyanese national flag. Beside him, in bold type, he is identified as “His Excellency President Mohammed Irfaan Ali.” Below that, a pull quote attributed to him reads: “Building a modern, resilient and technology-driven Guyana that works for every citizen.” Above the portrait, in italicised text, the poster states that the project is “Guided by the leadership and vision of His Excellency President Mohammed Irfaan Ali.”
None of that is necessary to inform the public about a noise monitoring pilot at Kitty Seawall.
Not a single word of it.
A member of the public who wants to know what the system does, where it is located, what noise thresholds trigger an alert, or what enforcement action follows does not need to know whose vision inspired the pole. They do not need a presidential portrait. They do not need an attributed quote about resilience and technology. What they need is practical civic information — and that, notably, the poster provides only in the most skeletal terms before pivoting back to political imagery. This is not an oversight. It is a choice. And it is a choice that tells us far more about how this administration uses state institutions than any press conference ever could.
Agencies Are Not Surrogates
The Environmental Protection Agency exists to regulate, monitor, and enforce environmental standards on behalf of the Guyanese public. It draws its budget from the public purse. Its mandate is derived from statute, not from the preferences of any sitting president. When it produces public communications, those communications are — in the most literal legal and democratic sense — public property paid for by public money.
Using that platform to promote a political figure is an abuse of institutional function. It does not matter that the president is the head of state. It does not matter that the project may have received executive support or policy direction. What matters is that a regulatory agency has allowed itself to become an instrument of political image-making — and in doing so, has compromised the very institutional credibility it depends on to do its job.
Enforcement agencies only work when the public believes they are neutral. When the EPA arrives at your business to issue a noise violation, the legitimacy of that action rests on the assumption that the agency is acting on the law, not on political instruction. The moment an agency begins visually associating itself with a political figure — the moment it starts attributing its own regulatory functions to the leader’s “vision” — that neutrality corrodes. And once institutional credibility corrodes, it is extraordinarily difficult to rebuild.
The Pattern Is the Problem
This would be easier to dismiss if it were an isolated incident. It is not.
The personalisation of state functions around the presidency has become a defining feature of how this administration presents its governance. Infrastructure projects, social programmes, technology initiatives — they arrive in the public domain not as the work of institutions, but as expressions of presidential vision, presidential leadership, presidential generosity. The individual displaces the institution at every turn.
This matters because democratic governance is supposed to work the other way around. The institution is supposed to be larger than the individual. The EPA is supposed to outlast any president. The NDMA is supposed to serve successive administrations without becoming identified with any one of them. When agencies begin producing materials that fuse their institutional identity with the political identity of the current head of state, they are not strengthening governance. They are weakening it — by making themselves dependent on political proximity rather than public trust.
What the Poster Does Not Tell You
Beyond the politics, it is worth noting what this elaborate, visually sophisticated, officially stamped poster conspicuously fails to explain.
It does not tell you what the specific decibel threshold triggers the alert. It does not explain what happens after the LED display warns that noise levels are loud — who is notified, what powers are exercised, what due process exists for a business or individual cited for a violation. It does not describe how long data is retained, who has access to it, or whether the monitoring system has any recording or surveillance capacity beyond audio levels. It does not explain how the pilot will be evaluated, what metrics determine success, or what criteria will govern the decision to expand the system to other public locations across Guyana.
These are not minor technical footnotes. They are the substance of the policy. They are the questions that determine whether this is a genuine public interest initiative or a piece of visible governance — the kind that looks active and modern in a photograph but operates without the transparency that real accountability requires.
A government serious about noise regulation would lead with that information. A government serious about public trust would make those answers easy to find. Instead, we got a presidential portrait and a slogan.
The Irony Is Deafening
There is a particular irony lodged at the heart of this episode that deserves to be named plainly.
The stated purpose of the noise monitoring system is to reduce unwanted, excessive, intrusive noise in public spaces — to protect the community from disturbance it did not ask for and cannot easily escape. The poster announcing that system is itself a form of political noise: loud, intrusive, impossible to mistake for something neutral, and entirely unrequested by the citizens it claims to serve.
The LED board on that pole at Kitty Seawall reportedly displays the words: “NOISE LEVEL LOUD. PLEASE KEEP THE AREA BELOW THE NOISE LIMIT.”
Someone at the EPA might want to read that message twice.
What Should Happen
This editorial is not an argument against noise regulation, or against technology-assisted enforcement, or even against this specific pilot project. If the system works as described, if it is governed by clear legal thresholds, and if enforcement is applied consistently and transparently, it could represent a genuine improvement in how Guyana manages shared public spaces.
But the EPA and NDMA owe the public more than a promotional poster and a presidential portrait. They owe a published framework: the legal basis for enforcement, the technical specifications of the system, the data governance policy, the complaints and appeals process, and a clear account of how the pilot will be independently evaluated before any expansion is authorised. And they owe the public a commitment — stated clearly and upheld consistently — that government agencies in Guyana exist to serve citizens, not to serve as backdrops for political branding. Until that commitment is demonstrated, every poster like this one is evidence of its absence.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.png00Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-18 09:04:332026-05-18 09:04:33The Noise Monitor and the Portrait: When Government Agencies Become Political Props
One man is dead. Thirty-seven others say they are trapped—without pay, without passports, and without a way out.
If the accounts emerging from a mining operation run by Ekaa Hrim Earth Resources Management are substantiated, then Guyana is not dealing with a labour dispute. It is confronting allegations consistent with forced labour and human trafficking—unfolding in real time, under the watch of the State.
The men, speaking on camera, allege that they have been denied adequate food and water, gone unpaid for months, and had their passports confiscated. Several report being told they must pay US$5,000 to secure their release. Some further allege that threats were made against them, including by individuals they identified as members of the Guyana Police Force.
Sarju Bhaskar
One of those men, Mr. Shekhar Chatri (also reported as Chetri), is now dead.
At this stage, the question is no longer what the workers are saying. The question is what the Government of Guyana is doing. Minister of Labour Joseph Hamilton cannot afford silence or delay. The allegations, as described, align directly with indicators of trafficking under the Trafficking in Persons Act No. 2 of 2005. This demands immediate intervention—on-site inspection, worker protection, and enforcement action where warranted.
Minister of Home Affairs Onedige Waldron, under whose portfolio the Trafficking in Persons Unit operates, must ensure that this matter is treated as a potential criminal investigation, not an administrative inconvenience. The Unit exists for precisely these scenarios. Its response—or lack thereof—will be read as a measure of the State’s seriousness about combating trafficking.
The Guyana Police Force, already named in allegations by the workers themselves, cannot be left to operate without independent scrutiny. Where there are claims of police involvement or intimidation, the Police Complaints Authority must be engaged immediately, and any implicated ranks removed from operational proximity to the case pending investigation.
And President Irfaan Ali cannot remain a distant observer. The President stood at the commissioning of this very enterprise, lending it the authority and legitimacy of the State. That moment matters now. Public endorsement carries public responsibility. The Office of the President must ensure that no entity operating under that umbrella is permitted to violate the law with impunity.
This is not about presuming guilt. It is about demanding accountability. Ekaa Hrim Earth Resources Management is not an unknown operator. It controls over a thousand acres of leased land, operates across multiple sectors, and is institutionally connected, including through publicly acknowledged ties to Texila American University under the leadership of Sarju Bhaskar. This is a company embedded within Guyana’s formal economic and regulatory structure.
Which raises an unavoidable question for the Guyana Geology and Mines Commission (GGMC): what oversight has been exercised over this concession? What inspections have been conducted? What compliance failures allowed these alleged conditions to persist to the point of death?
If the State cannot account for conditions on licensed land, then licensing itself becomes meaningless. Beyond the immediate human cost, there is a wider national consequence. Allegations of passport confiscation, debt demands, and restricted movement fall squarely within internationally recognized indicators of trafficking under the UN Palermo Protocol. If validated, this case places Guyana at risk of being associated—not rhetorically, but evidentially—with systems of exploitation it has long claimed to reject.
That reputational damage is not abstract. It affects investor confidence, international partnerships, and the country’s standing in global human rights assessments. But more importantly, it speaks to who we are willing to be. Guyana’s history carries the weight of labour exploitation—from slavery to indentureship—systems built on control, coercion, and the denial of freedom. The patterns described by these workers, if proven, are not relics of that past. They are warnings in the present. The difference now is that the law is clear, the institutions exist, and the evidence is being recorded in real time.
What remains uncertain is whether those in authority will act.
The Government does not have the luxury of cautious delay. It has an obligation to move—immediately, transparently, and without regard to political or personal association. Secure the workers. Return their documents. Ensure they are paid what they are owed. Investigate the death. Pursue criminal liability where the evidence leads. Anything less risks sending a message that in Guyana, exploitation can take root behind the façade of legitimacy—and that those responsible may rely on proximity to power to shield them from consequence.
One man is already dead. There are others still inside that operation.
What is done next will determine whether this country confronts this moment—or becomes defined by it.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/img_0176.jpg7991200Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-18 08:57:472026-05-18 08:57:47Trapped, Unpaid, and One Dead: Guyana’s Test of Accountability
The Chronicle’s recent Crossfire column attempts to reassure Guyanese that the government has the cost-of-living crisis firmly in hand. It is a comforting narrative—but one that drifts too far from the daily reality confronting citizens.
Across the country, the story is not one of stability or relief. It is one of stretching paychecks, cutting back on essentials, and navigating a steady rise in the price of basic goods. For many households, the question is no longer about economic theory or global trends—it is about whether income can keep pace with survival.
The column leans heavily on government initiatives—cash grants, fuel interventions, and manifesto commitments—as evidence of a “structured and deliberate” response. But listing measures is not the same as proving effectiveness. Where is the data showing that these interventions are meaningfully reducing the burden on households? Where is the transparency on how prices are trending relative to wages? To suggest that these efforts are sufficiently cushioning citizens is, at best, premature—and at worst, dismissive of the lived experiences of thousands of Guyanese.
Yes, global pressures are real. Supply chain disruptions and imported inflation affect small economies like ours. But invoking external forces cannot become a convenient shield against accountability. Governments are elected precisely to manage these pressures, not to explain them away.
More troubling is the column’s attempt to discredit dissent. Labelling critics as “misinformed” or driven by social media attention is a familiar tactic, but it does little to address the substance of public concern. People are not speaking out because they are confused; they are speaking out because they are feeling the pressure in real terms—at the market, at the pump, and in their monthly bills.
In any functioning democracy, opposition voices and public criticism are not irritants to be dismissed—they are signals to be examined. If anything, the persistence and volume of these concerns should prompt deeper inquiry, not defensive rhetoric.
The government’s broader development agenda—highlighting infrastructure expansion, tourism growth, and declining youth unemployment—may point to macroeconomic progress. But macroeconomic indicators do not pay grocery bills. Growth that does not translate into improved purchasing power risks becoming an abstract achievement, disconnected from everyday life. What is notably absent from the Crossfire narrative is urgency. There is little acknowledgment that current measures may be insufficient, or that more targeted, immediate interventions are required. Price monitoring must be strengthened. Support for local food production must move from promise to measurable output. Wage growth—particularly in the public sector—must be seriously addressed.
Instead, the column asks for patience, assuring citizens that more help is on the way. But patience is not a policy. It is a request—and one that becomes harder to justify when relief remains uneven or delayed. Guyana is not short on resources or ambition. What is needed now is sharper execution, clearer accountability, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. The cost-of-living crisis cannot be managed through optimism alone. If the government is indeed “actively engaging” this issue, then it must also be prepared to answer hard questions about outcomes—not intentions.
Because for the average Guyanese family, the measure of success is simple: can they afford to live with dignity? Right now, too many would answer no.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/img_0191.jpg5771170Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-18 08:41:592026-05-18 08:41:59Crossfire Misses the Mark on Cost of Living Reality
Iran’s threats to the Strait of Hormuz should be understood as more than another round of brinkmanship over shipping lanes.
They point to a broader geopolitical shift: power in the Middle East is increasingly being exercised not just through missiles, mines and tankers, but through the hidden infrastructure that keeps modern economies running. Under the sea, fibre-optic cables carry the digital traffic of finance, trade, diplomacy and intelligence. That makes Hormuz not only a maritime chokepoint, but a data chokepoint too.
For decades, the world has treated the Strait of Hormuz as a passageway for oil. That remains true: roughly one-fifth of global petroleum liquids pass through it, which is why every crisis in the Gulf sends energy markets into a nervous spasm. But the strait’s strategic meaning has widened. Subsea cables now run through nearby waters, linking the Gulf to Asia and Europe and giving the region’s economies access to the internet backbone on which banking, logistics, cloud computing and government systems depend.
The vulnerability is obvious once you look for it, which is precisely why it has been so easy to overlook. That is what makes Iran’s posture so consequential. Tehran has spent years learning how to weaponise geography. In the past, that meant harassing tankers, seizing ships, or threatening to close Hormuz outright. Now the target set is broader. If the sea lanes are the economy’s bloodstream, the cables are its nervous system. Disrupt one and you create panic; disrupt both and you compound uncertainty.
Even without cutting a single cable, the mere suggestion that Iran might do so can raise risk premiums, unsettle investors, and force governments and companies to think about worst-case scenarios they previously filed under theoretical. This is not just about technical damage. It is about strategic signalling. Iran does not need to sever every cable to gain leverage.
It only needs to convince its rivals that it can. In a region where perception is often as powerful as hardware, that is enough to alter behaviour. Gulf states depend heavily on stable digital links for finance, state administration, aviation, energy, and the data-heavy economies they are trying to build. The prospect of even temporary disruption introduces a new layer of pressure on governments already trying to manage conflict, deterrence and domestic expectations at once.
The wider danger is that the Strait of Hormuz becomes a model for future coercion. If one state can threaten subsea cables in a global chokepoint, others will study the lesson. The oceans are full of hidden infrastructure, and many of those systems are poorly defended, hard to repair and difficult to monitor at scale. That is a structural weakness in the architecture of globalisation. The world built a hyperconnected economy without giving enough thought to how fragile the physical layers beneath it really are. The result is that a crisis in one narrow waterway can ripple far beyond the region, affecting everything from payment systems to satellite coordination to the timing of container shipments.
The geopolitical implications are particularly severe because the Persian Gulf is already one of the world’s most militarised theatres. A move against subsea cables would blur the line between conventional conflict, economic warfare and cyber operations. It would also widen the circle of stakeholders. Europe, Asia and the United States all have an interest in keeping Hormuz open, not only for energy flows but for digital continuity.
That means any escalation could draw in outside powers more quickly and with less warning than in previous crises. A cable attack would not be a local incident; it would be read as a challenge to the stability of the global system itself. There is also a dangerous asymmetry at work. Iran can create disruption relatively cheaply, while repair, rerouting and resilience cost others far more. A navy can escort tankers, but it cannot instantly protect every stretch of seabed. Cable repair ships are few.
Permits, access and security all slow recovery. That asymmetry is exactly why the threat matters. In modern geopolitics, the side that can create uncertainty faster than its opponents can restore order often gains the upper hand, even without winning a battle in the traditional sense. The lesson for the West and its Gulf partners is uncomfortable.
Deterrence in the 21st century cannot be confined to missiles and minesweepers. It must extend to the physical infrastructure of connectivity: redundant cable routes, faster repair capacity, stronger monitoring, and closer coordination between governments and private operators. Yet even that is only partial insurance. Because the deeper issue is not simply vulnerability, but interdependence. The global economy has become so dependent on a handful of narrow passages, both maritime and digital, that regional conflict now has systemic consequences.
Iran understands this. By turning the world’s attention to the undersea cables beneath Hormuz, it is reminding its adversaries that power in the age of networks is exercised in layered ways. Control the sea, and you influence oil. Threaten the seabed, and you unsettle data, finance and communication. The real risk is not that Iran will literally unplug the internet, but that it will exploit the fragility of the infrastructure on which the world’s confidence depends.
That is the geopolitical message of Hormuz now: the age of chokepoints is not over. It has simply gone underground.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/img_0174.jpg8011170Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-18 08:24:172026-05-18 08:24:17Iran is weaponising the world’s hidden digital chokepoint
The Georgetown Chamber of Commerce and Industry’s recent appeal to foreign investors to include local businesses in their supply chains is as telling as it is troubling. Not because the concern is misplaced, but because the response once again reflects a pattern of reactive, almost lackadaisical advocacy at a time when Guyana can least afford it.
For years, warnings have surfaced about the marginalisation of local businesses, particularly within the oil and gas sector—the very industry driving Guyana’s economic transformation. From procurement practices dominated by established foreign networks to the persistent complaints of local contractors being sidelined or underutilised, the signs have been visible and consistent. Yet the Chamber’s voice has largely been muted, emerging only intermittently and often couched in the language of polite persuasion rather than firm demand.
This is not a moment that calls for “urging.” It calls for insistence.
Guyana is not without legal protections. The Local Content Act was crafted specifically to address these imbalances, setting clear expectations for the participation of Guyanese companies and workers in key sectors. It outlines obligations, not suggestions. And yet, the continued exclusion—whether through loopholes, weak enforcement, or quiet circumvention—suggests that the law is not being treated with the seriousness it deserves.
In the oil and gas industry alone, concerns have been raised about the structuring of contracts in ways that favor large, foreign service providers, often leaving local firms with limited access or relegating them to the lowest tiers of subcontracting. There are recurring complaints about opaque procurement processes, limited information sharing, and qualification requirements that effectively shut out Guyanese businesses before they even have a chance to compete.
Outside of oil and gas, similar patterns are emerging in construction, logistics, and hospitality—industries experiencing rapid growth due to foreign investment. The influx of external companies, while beneficial in some respects, has too often been accompanied by the importation of entire supply chains, bypassing local capacity rather than developing it. Against this backdrop, the Chamber’s approach appears not only reactive but fundamentally misaligned with the urgency of the moment. By framing the issue as one of encouragement rather than enforcement, it risks normalising a system where compliance with Guyana’s laws is treated as optional.
This is where the Chamber must be held to a higher standard. As a leading representative of the private sector, it should not merely echo concerns after the fact. It should be proactively identifying gaps, calling out non-compliance, and pressing both government and investors to uphold the letter and spirit of the law.
That means demanding transparency in procurement—public disclosure of contracts, clear reporting on local content targets, and independent verification of compliance. It means advocating for stronger monitoring mechanisms and real penalties for companies that sidestep their obligations. It also means equipping local businesses with the support they need to compete effectively, rather than leaving them to navigate an uneven playing field.
Equally important is the principle of reciprocity. Guyanese businesses entering foreign markets would be subject to strict regulatory frameworks designed to protect domestic interests. They would not be allowed to systematically exclude local participation without consequence. Why, then, should Guyana accept anything less within its own borders?
Economic sovereignty is not an abstract concept—it is exercised through policy, enforcement, and the confidence to demand fair treatment. When local businesses are excluded from the very industries built on Guyana’s natural resources, the promise of national development begins to ring hollow. The Chamber’s current posture, however well-meaning, does little to challenge this trajectory. It reflects a cautiousness that borders on complacency, at a time when bold, unapologetic advocacy is required.
Guyana is at a pivotal stage in its development. The structures being established today—who participates, who benefits, and under what conditions—will shape the country’s economic landscape for decades to come. This is not the time for soft appeals or deferred action.
If the Chamber is serious about protecting and advancing local enterprise, it must move beyond reactive statements and embrace a far more assertive role. It must demand enforcement, champion accountability, and ensure that Guyanese businesses are not spectators in their own economic story.
Anything less is not just inadequate—it is a disservice to the very constituency it claims to represent.
Alex Saab, the Colombian-Venezuelan businessman long regarded as a key ally of Nicolás Maduro, has been deported to the United States, according to Venezuela’s migration agency, in a move that underscores an extraordinary shift in relations between Caracas and Washington.
Saab, 54, was arrested in Caracas in February during what officials described as a joint operation involving US and Venezuelan authorities. His detention followed the dramatic capture of Maduro himself by US special forces a month earlier, an event that has upended Venezuela’s political landscape and ushered in an interim administration led by acting president Delcy Rodríguez. The deportation marks a striking escalation in cooperation between the two countries, which for years were locked in bitter diplomatic and legal confrontation. Under Maduro, Saab had been portrayed as a diplomatic envoy and was central to efforts to circumvent US sanctions, particularly through complex international procurement networks.
Saab’s legal history has been equally contentious. Arrested in Cape Verde in 2020, he was later extradited to the United States on money laundering charges linked to alleged corruption in Venezuelan government contracts. In 2023, he was granted clemency by US authorities in exchange for the release of detained Americans, a move that drew criticism from some lawmakers but was defended as a pragmatic diplomatic trade-off.
His return to US custody now raises the prospect that Saab could provide testimony or evidence relevant to the prosecution of Maduro and other senior figures. Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, were transferred to New York earlier this year and face charges including conspiracy to commit narcoterrorism, allegations they have consistently denied.
Legal representatives for Saab offered little immediate clarity on his latest transfer. Luigi Giuliano, an Italian lawyer who has previously represented him, said he was not involved in Saab’s US legal matters and could not confirm details of the deportation. Other counsel did not respond to requests for comment.
For Washington, Saab has long been seen as a pivotal figure in understanding the financial architecture underpinning Maduro’s government. His reappearance in US jurisdiction may therefore prove consequential, not only for the ongoing criminal cases but also for broader efforts to map and dismantle transnational corruption networks linked to Venezuela’s former leadership.
The developments signal a profound realignment in Venezuela’s international posture, with the Rodríguez administration appearing willing to collaborate with former adversaries as it navigates a fragile political transition.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/img_0173.jpg10091126Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-17 13:43:232026-05-17 13:43:23Alex Saab deported to US amid deepening post-Maduro cooperation
At least three people were killed and more than a dozen injured after Ukraine launched a sweeping overnight drone assault targeting the Moscow region, marking one of the most significant escalations of the war deep inside Russian territory in over a year. Russian state news agency TASS, citing local and military officials, reported that more than 500 drones were deployed in the attack.
Russia’s Defense Ministry claimed 556 drones were intercepted, while Moscow Mayor Sergey Sobyanin said over 120 were shot down as they approached the capital and surrounding areas. Despite the high interception rate, the fallout proved deadly.
A woman was killed in Khimki after a drone struck a private residence, leaving another person trapped beneath the rubble. In Mytishchi, two men died when falling debris hit a house under construction. Authorities reported at least 12 injuries across the Moscow region, including workers at an oil refinery. Drone fragments also sparked fires and structural damage in multiple locations. A home in the village of Subbotino caught fire, while residential buildings in the town of Istra were hit, injuring four people.
Debris was reported on the grounds of Sheremetyevo Airport, Russia’s busiest air hub, though no casualties or major disruptions were confirmed there. The scale and reach of the attack underscore Ukraine’s growing capacity to project force far beyond the front lines, increasingly targeting symbolic and logistical centers within Russia itself.
The strike follows a wave of Russian attacks earlier in the week on Ukraine’s capital, Kyiv, which killed at least 25 people and injured dozens, according to Ukrainian officials—highlighting a continuing cycle of retaliation that is intensifying both in frequency and scope.
Ukraine’s military leadership signaled the psychological dimension of the operation as it unfolded. In a message posted to Telegram, the commander of Ukraine’s Unmanned System Forces warned residents of Moscow’s elite Patriarchy district that their “one-way ticket to a peaceful life… has been canceled.” Meanwhile, Ukraine reported that Russia launched 287 drones overnight into its territory, injuring civilians in the Dnipropetrovsk and Zaporizhzhia regions. Ukrainian air defenses said they intercepted all but eight.
As both sides increasingly rely on mass drone deployments, the conflict is rapidly evolving into a high-volume, long-range war of attrition—where even intercepted attacks carry consequences, and the battlefield now stretches deep into civilian spaces on both sides.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/img_0175.jpg13501080Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-17 12:22:122026-05-17 12:25:46Ukraine Escalates Drone War with Massive Strike Near Moscow
The Trump administration is once again rattling the Caribbean with the language of force, and the region should treat that threat with the seriousness it deserves.
President Donald Trump’s boast that the United States would have “the honour of taking Cuba,” alongside talk of deploying an aircraft carrier group near the island and a sharp rise in US intelligence flights along Cuba’s coastline, points to a deliberate march toward confrontation. This is not isolated rhetoric. It is a pattern — one that mixes intimidation, military posturing, and political recklessness in a region that has already endured too much great-power meddling.
Surveillance flights, sanctions, naval pressure, and public threats do not happen in a vacuum. They are the familiar opening moves of coercive statecraft, the kind that too often ends with civilians paying the price. The claim that Cuba’s government has not broken under pressure appears to have only deepened the White House’s frustration. That should alarm every Caribbean capital. When a superpower begins to treat a sovereign nation’s endurance as a provocation, the odds of escalation rise sharply.
The Senate’s rejection of a war powers resolution means Trump still has broad room to act without meaningful legislative restraint. That failure matters. Lawmakers cannot claim to oppose reckless war while refusing to erect the legal barrier that would actually prevent it. Their inaction leaves the Caribbean exposed to a conflict that could be launched in Washington but felt first in the ports, airports, coastlines, and communities of small island states.
Any military action against Cuba would send tremors through the entire region. Shipping routes could be disrupted. Tourism and trade could be hit. Refugee flows could overwhelm fragile systems. Diplomatic relations would be strained as governments are forced to navigate between US pressure and regional solidarity. Small states would once again be asked to absorb the consequences of decisions they did not make and cannot control.
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
Caribbean governments must speak with one voice and reject any unilateral military action against Cuba. They should insist on respect for international law, demand congressional approval for any strike, and push back against the normalisation of war talk in the hemisphere. The region cannot afford to respond only after missiles are in the air or ships are already in motion.
And provocation in the Caribbean has a long, ugly history. When major powers talk casually about “taking” smaller nations, they do not bring honour. They bring instability, suffering, and years of fallout that outlast every headline.
https://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/05/img_0123-1.jpg6101170Editorhttps://592guardian.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/for-papaer-300x114.pngEditor2026-05-17 10:40:292026-05-17 10:40:29Trump’s Cuba Gambit Threatens to Drag the Caribbean Into Another American War.
