THE 592 GUARDIAN  

ECONOMIC ANALYSIS♦ EKAA QUARRY SERIES ♦ PART II 

The Price 

of Silence


 Protecting migrant workers in Guyana is not a moral nicety — it is an economic and reputational non-negotiable. As the

Ekaa Quarry workers retain legal counsel, and the world begins to watch, the window to get this right is closing. What Guyana does next will define its developmental trajectory for a generation.

WORKERS RETAIN LEGAL COUNSEL♦

INTERNATIONAL SCRUTINY INTENSIFIES♦ 

THE FOUNDATION.  


Guyana’s

oil boom is real, its ambitions are legitimate, and its development trajectory is, by most economic measures, extraordinary. But a boom is not a foundation. A foundation is built from institutions, trust, and rules that function even when they are inconvenient — especially when they are inconvenient. The Ekaa Quarry crisis is not a distraction from Guyana’s economic story. It is a chapter in it.

The arithmetic of Guyana’s labor market leaves no room for ambiguity. Oil extraction, infrastructure construction, quarrying, agriculture, and services are all expanding simultaneously. The domestic workforce — constrained by decades of emigration, skills gaps, and population size — cannot fill this demand. Foreign labor is not a policy option; it is a structural necessity. Migrant workers are the human capital bridge between Guyana’s ambitions and its capacity to deliver them. 

This reality makes migrant worker protection an economic imperative, not simply an ethical one. A country that cannot reliably protect the workers it recruits from abroad will, over time, find it harder to recruit them. Labor follows reputation. When the Ekaa Quarry case is filed in India’s diplomatic memory, when it circulates among the networks that connect Indian contractors to foreign work sites, it does not disappear. It informs decisions about whether Guyana is a safe destination. The cost of that damaged perception accrues quietly, in vacant positions and stalled projects, long after the original story has left the front pages. 

37— DIRECTLY AFFECTED♦  1– DECEASED SHEKAR CHHETRI— INVESTIGATION ONGOING ♦ REPUTATIONAL EXPOSURE — NO CEILING ONCE LEGAL PROCEEDINGS BEGIN 

THE LEGAL THRESHOLD 

The moment the Ekaa Quarry workers retained legal counsel, this crisis crossed an irreversible threshold. What had been a labor dispute — resolvable, in principle, by swift ministerial action — became a matter of legal record. Documents will be filed. Testimonies will be taken. Proceedings will be public. The Indian High Commission is already engaged. Every day that passes without resolution adds another layer of institutional exposure for the Guyanese state. 

This is what distinguishes this case from others that have been successfully buried beneath political noise. Legal proceedings have their own momentum. They do not respond to deflection. They cannot be resolved by ministerial press releases or accusations that the opposition is “manipulating” victims. They require facts, evidence, and accountability — the precise currency this government has been most reluctant to produce. 

What Guyana does in the next few weeks will be read as policy — not just by these thirty-seven men, but by every foreign worker, every

diplomatic mission, and every international investor watching from a distance.

5 9 2 G UA R D I A N A N A LYS I S — E C O N O M I C &   L A B O U R 

The international dimension compounds this dramatically. India is a major and assertive diplomatic power. Its missions abroad operate with robust mandates to protect Indian nationals, and the Indian diaspora and contractor networks that have followed Guyana’s development story will be paying close attention to how these resolves. A judgment, a finding, or even a prolonged and embarrassing legal process in a Guyanese court will carry weight far beyond Georgetown. It will be read in New Delhi, Kolkata, and Mumbai as a signal about whether Guyana honors its obligations to those who come to build its future. 

TWO TRAJECTORIES 

Guyana sits at a genuine fork. This is not rhetorical — the decisions made in the next weeks will trace one of two very different paths for the country’s reputation as an emerging economy and a destination for skilled and semi-skilled foreign labor. 

DEVELOPMENTAL TRAJECTORY — THE FORK 

PATH A — SWIFT RESOLUTION

Passports returned immediately; wages paid in full

Independent investigation into Chhetri’s death, findings published

Labor Ministry conducts nationwide audit of remote foreign-worker sites

 Government signals zero tolerance for passport retention and wage theft

 Guyana establishes a migrant worker protection framework ahead of legal mandate foreign labor markets read Guyana as reliable, law-abiding, and investible

PATH B — CONTINUED EVASION

Legal proceedings drag on — case becomes international news

Indian diplomatic mission files formal complaint; bilateral tension escalates ILO flags Guyana for convention non-compliance

Foreign investors in extractive sectors face ESG due-diligence questions

Skilled foreign workers in Guyana’s target recruitment pools grow wary

Development partners raise labor standards as conditions for financing

THE STAIN THAT DOES NOT WASH

Reputational damage in development economics is not abstract. It is priced into sovereign credit ratings, into the risk premiums that foreign investors demand, into the willingness of skilled workers to migrate to a country, and into the conditions that multilateral development banks attach to financing. Guyana is currently the beneficiary of enormous reputational goodwill — the oil discovery, the GDP growth figures, the narrative of a small country transforming itself — but goodwill is not a fixed asset. It is depleted by events exactly like this one. 

The stain that this case risks leaving is not only about thirty-seven workers at one quarry. It is about what kind of state Guyana is revealing itself to be at the precise moment the world is forming its first serious impression. A country that allows — or is perceived to allow — trafficking-adjacent practices against foreign nationals while its ministers snipe at the opposition is not a country that international capital trusts with long-term commitments. It is a country that gets short-term extraction deals and nothing more. 

FIVE IMPLICATIONS GUYANA CANNOT AFFORD 
01 Labor Supply Erosion 
Countries and networks from which Guyana recruits skilled workers will downgrade their risk assessment. The pipeline of willing foreign labor — essential to Guyana’s construction and extractives boom — narrows when origin countries “ag destination risk. 
02 Bilateral Diplomatic Cost 
India’s diplomatic engagement in this case is already active. A failure to resolve this swiftly and transparently elevates a labor dispute into a bilateral incident — with costs that extend well beyond the immediate crisis into trade, cooperation, and political capital. 
03 ESG Exposure for Foreign Investors 
International companies operating in Guyana — particularly in extractive industries — face environmental, social, and governance scrutiny from their own shareholders and regulators. A host country with documented labor violations creates due-diligence liability that can deter investment or complicate! nuancing.
04 ILO and Multilateral Exposure 
Guyana’s obligations under International Labor Organization conventions are not aspirational — they are binding. Documented violations of those conventions, especially in a case now heading toward legal proceedings, invite formal review, public findings, and conditions attached to development assistance. 
05 The Precedent Effect 
How Guyana handles this case becomes the template for how every subsequent migrant labor crisis is handled. If evasion succeeds here, the incentive for employers to exploit foreign workers is strengthened. If accountability prevails, a deterrent is established. The country is choosing, right now, which precedent it sets. 
EDITORIAL POSITION 
Guyana does not have the luxury of learning this lesson slowly. The oil era has compressed Guyana’s development timeline and, with it, the timeline within which its institutions must mature. Countries that manage resource booms successfully do so by building credible, enforceable rules — and enforcing them visibly, even when it is politically inconvenient. 
The Ekaa Quarry case is happening in the infancy of Guyana’s emergence as an international economic player. The workers have legal counsel. The Indian High Commission is engaged. The world — however briefly — is paying attention. This is precisely the moment at which a government can establish, cheaply and decisively, that Guyana protects the people who come here to work. Or it can squander that moment.
Migrant workers are not a risk to be managed. They are the human infrastructure of Guyana’s growth. Treat them accordingly — because the world is watching, and what it sees now, it remembers later. 

E N D  O F  A N A LYS I S 

 

The Outstretched Hand: Guyana’s Diaspora Bond Is a Patriotism Trap

When oil billions, carbon windfalls, and mining revenues aren’t enough
— the government comes for your savings

Opinion | The 592 Guardian

There is a particular kind of audacity reserved for those who collect a fortune, spend it without accounting to anyone, and then return to the people they already squeezed —this time with a glossy prospectus and a flag.
That is, in essence, what President Irfaan Ali’s proposed diaspora bond represents.

Not vision. Not partnership. Not an invitation to shared prosperity.
A masterclass in salesmanship — and a financial trap dressed in national colors.

The Sales Pitch
“Here is your opportunity to help in the development of your country.”

Read that sentence again. Absorb its breathtaking construction. In one line, the administration reframes the absence of fiscal discipline as a test of civic virtue. It converts an accountability failure into an investment opportunity. And it enlists the very people who were never given a fair share of Guyana’s wealth to now fund the infrastructure that
oil revenues, carbon credit windfalls, and mining royalties were supposed to build.

It is a magnificent piece of emotional engineering. And Guyanese abroad — who have already given enormously — would be wise to see it for exactly what it is.

What the Government Is Already Collecting
Before a single diaspora dollar is mobilized, every overseas Guyanese deserves a full accounting of what this government is already earning on their behalf.

Petroleum revenues are staggering. In 2024 alone, Guyana’s offshore Stabroek Block— operated by ExxonMobil alongside Hess and CNOOC — generated an estimated US$17.9 billion in total production value. Deposits into the Natural Resource Fund for that year amounted to US$2.6 billion, drawn from profit oil payments across the Liza
Destiny, Liza Unity, and Prosperity FPSOs. By September 2025, the NRF balance had grown to US$3.6 billion. Between September 2024 and September 2025 alone, oil revenue inflows totaled US$2.39 billion — with outflows of US$2.14 billion already withdrawn and spent.
That is billions of dollars in oil money — already collected, already disbursed — with no comprehensive public ledger of where it went, what it built, or who benefited.

Carbon credit revenues add another layer to this extraordinary windfall. Under the landmark agreement with Hess Corporation as part of the Low Carbon Development Strategy (LCDS) 2030, Guyana committed to selling 750 million carbon credits between 2022 and 2032 for a minimum of US$750 million — with upside sharing provisions if
prices rise. By January 2024, US$187.5 million had already been received from this first commercial sale. In 2023, revenues reached US$150 million. In 2024, they were US$87.5 million, and by late 2025, President Ali himself announced that total carbon credit revenues for 2025 would approach US$200 million — bringing the three-year total
under the revised LCDS 2030 to approximately US$400 million. Looking further out, Vice President Jagdeo has projected this sector could eventually generate US$2 billion for Guyana, and potentially US$4 to 5 billion at full scale.

That is hundreds of millions in carbon dollars — earned by selling the world access to Guyana’s standing forests — forests that belong to all Guyanese, not merely those connected to the administration’s inner circle.

And still, the government needs your money.

The question that demands an answer is not rhetorical. It is foundational: What, precisely, is all of this revenue financing — if not the public infrastructure the diaspora bond now proposes to build?

The Accountability Deficit

The opposition has raised alarm bells that should disturb every prospective investor.
Parliamentarian Dr. Terrence Campbell has flagged that withdrawals from the Natural
Resource Fund have amounted to approximately US$2.61 billion over three years —
US$607 million in 2022, over US$1 billion in 2023 alone — and has initiated legal
proceedings challenging the transparency of those withdrawals.

Between 2022 and late 2025, billions in oil and carbon revenue have flowed into
government accounts. Meanwhile:

•Infrastructure projects continue to be plagued by chronic delays and cost overruns.

•Procurement processes remain opaque, with contracts awarded under conditions
that resist independent scrutiny.

•Tax concessions, state subsidies, and government-backed financing
disproportionately benefit foreign and politically connected commercial interests.

•The IMF, in its 2025 country report on Guyana, noted that despite governance
improvements, the fiscal deficit remained at 7.3% of GDP in 2024 and was projected to stay near 4.9% of GDP in 2025 — even amid unprecedented resource revenues.

A government running structural deficits while sitting on billions in oil and carbon wealth
does not have a revenue problem. It has a discipline problem.
And it is asking you to paper over that problem with your savings.

Squandermania — A Pattern, Not an Accident

This is not the first time that extraordinary resource wealth has been captured and
poorly managed in this region. The term squandermania — coined to describe oil-rich
nations that fritter away generational wealth on patronage, vanity projects, and
bureaucratic bloat — was not invented for Guyana, but it applies with uncomfortable
precision.

Consider what is in play simultaneously:

•Billions in oil profit oil payments, with the government’s own withdrawal formula now
under legal challenge.

•Nearly US$400 million in carbon credit sales over three years, with hundreds of
millions more projected, under a deal that monetizes Guyana’s forests — a national
patrimony — at rates critics argue are below their true value.

•Record budget allocations, including GY$100.3 billion for the security sector alone in
2026.

•A fiscal deficit that persists regardless of inflows.

Now add a diaspora bond.

If the NRF cannot finance roads, hospitals, energy grids, and digital infrastructure —
what has US$2.6 billion in withdrawals been spent on? If carbon credit revenues
approaching half a billion dollars cannot address public infrastructure gaps — who
exactly is benefiting from those funds?

These are not opposition talking points. They are arithmetic.

The Diaspora Has Already Paid

For decades — through economic collapse, political persecution, and the long years of
underdevelopment that drove hundreds of thousands abroad — the Guyanese diaspora
kept this nation alive. Remittances stabilized foreign exchange. They funded surgeries,
school fees, and funeral costs. They built houses and buried parents. They kept entire
villages economically viable when the state had abdicated its responsibilities.

That generation of sacrifice has never been formally acknowledged by this government.
There has been no serious reparative policy, no preferential investment framework, no
genuine institutional effort to bring diaspora capital home on fair terms — not until now,
when it is convenient.

President Ali, speaking at Rice University’s Baker Institute in May 2026, framed it
plainly: “How do we unlock their financing? How do we create opportunities for their
investments?”

Note the architecture of that sentence. The diaspora is not a constituency to serve. It is
a financing pool to unlock.

What a Legitimate Instrument Would Look Like

A diaspora bond is not inherently objectionable. Israel’s State of Israel Bonds and India’s
various NRI bond issuances have raised billions legitimately — but they rested on a
foundation that Guyana’s current administration has not established:

Full structural transparency. What specific projects will this bond finance? What are
the precise terms — interest rate, tenor, currency of repayment, redemption
mechanism? What legal protections exist for overseas investors if the government
defaults or changes the terms?

Independent oversight. Who audits the use of proceeds? Is there a third-party
mechanism — international or domestic — with genuine authority and public reporting
obligations?

Risk disclosure. What is the sovereign credit risk profile? What recourse exists? What
happens to these bonds under a change of government?
A prior accounting. Before asking for new money, account for the billions already
collected. A government that cannot explain where US$2.6 billion in NRF withdrawals
went has no credible standing to solicit fresh investment.

Parliamentary mandate. Has this bond been debated, structured, and authorized
through the National Assembly? Or is it another initiative launched by executive
declaration, bypassing the legislature that represents all Guyanese?

None of these conditions appear to have been met. What has been offered instead is a
sentiment — love of country — dressed up as a financial product.

The Bottom Line

This is not patriotism. It is opportunism wearing a flag pin.
The Guyanese diaspora is not a venture capital fund for a government that cannot
account for its existing revenues. They are not obligated to subsidize infrastructure that
oil money, carbon credits, and mining royalties should already be building. They are not
responsible for covering a fiscal deficit created by a combination of structural
mismanagement, patronage spending, and procurement irregularities.

Every Guyanese abroad who is tempted by this offer should ask one simple question
before signing anything: If Guyana cannot afford to build its own roads and hospitals on
petroleum revenues of US$2.6 billion a year, carbon credit revenues approaching
US$200 million a year, and a Natural Resource Fund balance of US$3.6 billion — then
where, exactly, has the money gone?

Until that question is answered — fully, publicly, and verifiably — the only responsible
position is caution.

Due diligence is not disloyalty. Demanding accountability is not a betrayal of Guyana.

It is the highest form of love for it.

The 592 Guardian holds no brief for any political party. We hold a brief for the Guyanese people–at home and abroad

“Show the Schedule or Stop the Spin.”

A RESPONSE TO GAIL TEIXEIRA’S DRIVEL

“𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌”— GT BUZZ

Spare us the polished talking points and constitutional window dressing—what we are witnessing is not procedural normalcy, it is calculated avoidance of scrutiny.

If everything is above board, then publish the parliamentary schedule. Not selectively, not vaguely, not through press statements—publish it in full. The refusal or reluctance to do so raises a simple question: what exactly is being hidden from the people?

Government business is not a private exercise conducted behind closed doors and dressed up after the fact. It is funded by taxpayers, it is executed in the name of the people, and it must be subjected to continuous parliamentary oversight. That is not optional. That is the foundation of accountable governance.

You cannot boast about budgets, projects, and national development while sidelining the very institution designed to interrogate, approve, and monitor those actions.

The National Assembly is not a ceremonial inconvenience—it is the central pillar of democratic accountability.

Keeping it effectively dormant while claiming “work continues” is nothing short of political evasion.

Let us call this what it is: governance by insulation. A system where decisions are made, money is spent, and policies are rolled out without the consistent, visible, and structured scrutiny of Parliament. That is not strength. That is a dangerous drift toward executive dominance.

And the attempt to dismiss legitimate concern by hiding behind sovereignty arguments is equally disingenuous. Sovereignty does not mean secrecy. It does not mean the executive gets to decide when and how democracy is performed. It certainly does not mean the public must accept silence where transparency is required.

Elections are not a five-year licence to disappear into unchecked authority. Democracy does not begin and end at the ballot box. It lives—or dies—in the daily practice of accountability, debate, and institutional integrity. When those mechanisms are weakened, delayed, or manipulated, the damage is not theoretical—it is real and immediate.

And let us not pretend otherwise: when the lines between party and state blur, when institutions bend to executive convenience, and when Parliament is treated as expendable, the word “capture” is no longer provocative—it is accurate.


The Guyanese people are not naïve. They understand the difference between governance and control. They understand when they are being managed instead of represented.

So again, the demand is simple: show the schedule. Convene the Assembly. Subject government business to the scrutiny it requires.
Anything less is not governance. It is avoidance dressed up as order.
And the country deserves better than that.

We Are Selling Rice.We Are Buying Back

Our Shame.


Guyana exports the grain and imports the flour. It harvests the oil and outsources the refinery of ambition. This nation has been haemorrhaging economic value and political accountability for generations — and the time to stop the bleeding is not tomorrow. It is now.


Walk into any supermarket in Georgetown today and you will find it on the shelf: four pounds of rice flour, imported from India, priced at approximately US$9.00 — nearly two thousand Guyanese dollars — for a product derived from a crop this country grows in abundance. Let that sit for a moment. Guyana, one of the Caribbean’s foremost rice producers, is paying a foreign nation to mill its own grain and ship it back. This is not a quirk of the market. It is a monument to our collective failure.

That failure did not arrive overnight. Its roots reach back to the Burnham era, when initiatives to process rice into value-added goods — flour, bran, starch — were derailed not by any shortage of raw material or industrial capacity, but by political weaponisation of public fear. Opposition voices of the time warned that rice flour consumption would cause “beri beri” or “white mouth.” Whether born of genuine misunderstanding or naked expediency, those narratives found purchase. Public confidence in domestic production collapsed. And with it, the ambition to build an agro-industrial economy worthy of this nation’s resources.


A nation cannot keep blaming its past while its present leaders reproduce the same pattern of squandered opportunity and deflected accountability.”


But we will not let old political ghosts carry all the blame. The deeper failure was institutional. Policy was inconsistent. Technological investment was inadequate. Processing infrastructure was neglected. And there was no long-term strategy to develop domestic markets for domestically transformed goods. Skepticism thrives where competence is absent — and competence requires sustained political will, not just good intentions at a ribbon-cutting ceremony.


US$9.00

PER 4 LBS OF IMPORTED RICE FLOUR — A PRODUCT GUYANA GROWS BUT DOES NOT MILL

At current retail prices in Georgetown supermarkets. Guyana remains dependent on Indian processors for value-added rice products while exporting raw paddy at fraction of the price.

The result is a textbook case of value-chain dependency: raw commodity out, finished product back in — at a premium. Every bag of imported rice flour is a quiet indictment. It tells us that decades after independence, after nationalisation, after oil discovery, after billions in revenue projections, we still have not built the systems to transform what we grow into what we need. We are, in the language of development economics, trapped at the bottom of the value chain — not by fate, but by choice. By negligence. By a failure of governance that has never been adequately named, let alone corrected.


ON ACCOUNTABILITY

And this brings us to the harder truth. The rice flour scandal — and we will call it what it is — does not exist in isolation. It is a symptom of a governance culture in which leaders are never truly required to answer for what they leave undone. Decisions with generational consequences are made, or unmade, without explanation. Opportunities are buried. And the public is expected to accept, to move on, to wait for the next election cycle as though that alone constitutes democratic accountability.

It does not. Accountability is not a quadrennial event. It is a daily obligation. It is transparency in decision-making. It is the willingness to stand before the people — not with press releases and photo-opportunities — but with honest reckoning about what has failed and why. It is the courage to say: we got this wrong, here is how we will fix it, and here is the timeline on which you may hold us to that promise.


Power is not built on comfort. It is built on responsibility, on pressure, on the unrelenting demand to do better. A leader who cannot face scrutiny has no business holding authority.


Guyana stands today at a genuinely historic inflection point. Oil revenues have changed the arithmetic of what is possible. The world is watching. Investment is flowing. And yet the old patterns persist: raw potential exported, finished value imported, questions deflected, failures absorbed quietly by a population conditioned to expect disappointment from those who govern them. That conditioning is itself a form of political damage — and reversing it requires citizens who refuse to be quiet.

We are not calling for rancour. We are calling for standards. We are calling for servant leadership — leaders who understand that public office is a mandate issued in trust, not a throne claimed by election. Leaders who measure their tenure not by the infrastructure they announce but by the lives they materially improve. Leaders who welcome scrutiny as the legitimate exercise of democratic sovereignty, not as an affront to their authority.

The question for this new era of Guyanese prosperity is therefore not simply whether the country will build a rice flour mill — though it should, and urgently. The question is whether Guyana will build a governance culture equal to its resources. Whether it will create institutions capable of converting potential into transformation. Whether it will hold those in power to a standard commensurate with the trust placed in them.

Wealth without accountability is not development. It is an accelerant for inequality, entrenched dysfunction, and the deepening cynicism of a people who have seen too many promises evaporate.


Our Demand

The time for quiet acceptance has passed. It passed long ago — with every bag of imported rice flour, with every missed processing opportunity, with every year that the country’s agricultural inheritance was left unrefined and undervalued. Citizens who remain silent in the face of repeated, documented failure do not escape its consequences. They inherit them. And they pass them on.

So we say this plainly: public servants exist to serve the public — not the reverse. Their mandate is not self-perpetuation. It is transformation. And transformation demands that they be challenged, pressed, questioned, and if necessary, replaced by those with the competence and the courage to do what the moment requires.


“Guyana does not need louder promises.
It needs leaders who are held — and hold themselves — to account.
Servant leadership is not a slogan. It is a standard.
And we will accept nothing less.


𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙘, 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙨.

Georgetown–Parika Minibus Strike Highlights Rising Cost Pressures

Mini-bus operators along the Georgetown–Parika route brought services to a halt this morning in a protest action demanding an increase in fares, citing years of rising operational costs without adjustment.

Operators argue that fares have remained unchanged since 2017, despite significant increases in fuel prices and the cost of vehicle parts and maintenance. The shutdown disrupted commuter movement and signaled growing frustration within the transport sector.

Chairman of the Route 32 Mini-Bus Association defended the action, stating that operators can no longer sustain their operations under the current fare structure.
“I saw Minister Edghill advising the public that there is no increase in mini-bus fare. What I am showing is that since 2014, we were promised a $20 annual increase. If that had been applied, the fare would be significantly higher today,” he said.

He further revealed that operators had previously engaged government officials on the matter.
“We submitted a proposal five years ago to Minister Benn and another minister who is now at Home Affairs. Minister Benn told us not to implement any increase, and we complied. But five years later, nothing has been done while our costs continue to rise—not just on Route 32, but countrywide,” the Chairman added.

The Ministry of Public Works has maintained that no official approval has been granted for any fare increases. Government representatives have pointed to the removal of taxes on fuel as a mitigating measure to ease the burden of global oil price fluctuations.

However, operators insist that the relief has been insufficient.
“Our vehicles are expensive to maintain. The cost of parts, tires, and fuel is high. We need a fair adjustment in fares,” one driver stated.
Other operators echoed similar concerns, arguing that their proposed increases would remain reasonable for commuters while allowing them to operate sustainably.

Additional protest actions are expected, with other mini-bus operators signaling plans to suspend services in the coming days as pressure mounts on the government to address the issue.

The Great Georgetown Grab—and the Reality Beneath the Water

BY: Staff— Writer

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣.   

The government’s seizure of 57 streets in Georgetown was sold to the public as a necessary intervention—an act of “rescue” from alleged City Hall mismanagement. It was dressed up in the language of efficiency, modernization, and “world-class” governance. But reality, as it often does, has cut through the rhetoric.

The image before us tells a different story.

After a single bout of rainfall, one of the very streets taken over by central government now sits submerged, transformed into a canal of stagnation and inconvenience. Vehicles struggle, businesses are impacted, and ordinary citizens are left once again navigating preventable flooding. This is not an isolated inconvenience—it is a visible indictment.

Because the question must now be asked: what exactly has improved?
The takeover was not merely administrative; it was political. It signaled a deliberate encroachment into municipal authority, justified by claims that the city lacked the competence to manage its own infrastructure. Yet, within weeks, the central government has inherited the same problems—and, judging by this outcome, has failed to resolve them.

If anything, the episode exposes a deeper issue: the illusion of competence.

Grand promises were made about development, upgrades, and transformation. The streets, we were told, would be rehabilitated, repurposed, and elevated to a standard befitting a modern capital. Instead, what we are witnessing is continuity of failure—only now under a different authority that claimed superiority.

This raises uncomfortable but necessary questions. Was this intervention truly about fixing infrastructure, or was it about consolidating political control over Georgetown? Was it about service delivery, or about optics—about creating the appearance of action while advancing a broader electoral strategy?
Because when governance becomes a tool for political expansion rather than public service, the results are predictable: symbolism replaces substance.

The flooding of this street is more than a drainage issue. It is a metaphor for what happens when power is centralized without accountability, when decisions are driven by political calculus rather than technical competence.

And perhaps most tellingly, it exposes the fragility of the narrative that justified the takeover in the first place.
If the government cannot deliver demonstrably better outcomes on the very streets it wrested from City Hall, then its central argument collapses under the weight of its own failure.

Georgetown’s problems are real. But they will not be solved by political maneuvers disguised as management reforms. They require sustained investment, technical planning, respect for local governance, and above all, accountability to the people who live with the consequences.

Until then, the waters will continue to rise—not just in the streets, but in public skepticism.

Cummings St.

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

ExxonMobil Eyes Ultra-Deepwater Opportunities as Guyana Development Enters New Phase

GEORGETOWN, GUYANA — ExxonMobil Guyana is advancing its offshore strategy by evaluating oil discoveries in waters approaching 3,000 meters deep, signaling a shift beyond the large-scale projects that defined the first phase of development in the Stabroek Block.

Speaking at the Offshore Technology Conference (OTC) in Houston, ExxonMobil Guyana Development Manager Kyle Countryman outlined the company’s evolving focus on more technically complex reservoirs.
“We’re now looking at discoveries in ultra-deepwater, getting close to 3,000 meters,” Countryman said during a panel discussion.
He explained that earlier developments targeted larger, more commercially viable black oil discoveries capable of supporting standalone production projects.

These initial projects laid the foundation for Guyana’s rapid emergence as a major oil-producing nation.
“If you look, we always do the easy stuff first — though none of these deepwater developments were truly easy,” he noted.
According to Countryman, the next phase will involve smaller and more challenging accumulations, many of which may not justify independent production facilities. Instead, these resources are being assessed for “tieback” development — a strategy that connects smaller discoveries to existing floating production, storage, and offloading (FPSO) vessels.
“These are tied-back opportunities that are smaller and not standalone,” he said.

The approach allows ExxonMobil and its partners, Hess and CNOOC, to optimize infrastructure while unlocking additional reserves that might otherwise remain undeveloped.
“We have a lot of discovered, undeveloped resources that we’re looking at ways to unlock,” Countryman added.
The company is also engaged in ongoing discussions with the Government of Guyana as it evaluates future development pathways in the basin.

Guyana currently has four producing FPSOs in the Stabroek Block, with several additional projects already approved, reinforcing its position as a global offshore oil hotspot.
As operators push into ultra-deepwater and increasingly complex reservoirs, the next phase of Guyana’s oil story will hinge on technological innovation, cost efficiency, and strategic resource integration.

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

Guyana at 60: Red House Exhibition Unearths the Nation’s Untold Independence Story

As Guyana approaches its 60th Independence anniversary, a compelling new exhibition at the Cheddi Jagan Research Centre is doing more than commemorating a milestone—it is reopening the national archive and inviting public scrutiny of the country’s political past.

The “Guyana at 60: Independence Exhibition,” currently on display at Red House on High Street, Georgetown, offers a rare and deeply textured look at the nation’s journey from colonial rule to sovereignty. Featuring decades of archival documents, political posters, photographs, and cultural artifacts—some dating back to the 1940s—the exhibition is already drawing significant attention from schools, researchers, and members of the public.

Curated by Amrita Naraine, the exhibition goes beyond familiar narratives. It deliberately foregrounds lesser-known figures, contested moments, and the complex alliances that shaped the independence movement and the formation of the People’s Progressive Party (PPP).

“This is about confronting the full story—who was involved, what happened, and how those decisions shaped the Guyana we know today, for better or worse,” Naraine explained.
Importantly, the exhibition does not shy away from the turbulent 1960s, a period marked by political unrest, external interference, and deep societal divisions. By placing these events alongside the broader independence narrative, the display challenges sanitized versions of history and encourages critical reflection.

What sets this initiative apart is its integration of modern technology into historical preservation. Through Naraine’s company, Artellica AI, advanced data science tools were used to organise and catalogue a vast and previously underutilised archive. The effort has not only improved accessibility but has also revealed the sheer depth of material housed at the research centre—arguably the largest collection of its kind in Guyana.

“This process started as preparation for an exhibition, but it quickly became clear that we were sitting on a significant body of undocumented history,” Naraine noted. “Cataloguing it is as important as displaying it.”
The public response has been strong, particularly among younger audiences. Seventeen schools have already scheduled visits, with students from across Georgetown—and the University of Guyana—engaging in guided sessions designed to connect academic learning with lived history.

Beyond domestic actors, the exhibition also highlights the role of international institutions, including the United Nations, in Guyana’s path to independence—an often overlooked dimension of the country’s political evolution.
Open to the public until May 29, the exhibition runs Monday to Friday from 09:30 hrs to 15:00 hrs and forms part of the wider national programme marking six decades of independence.

At a time when questions of governance, identity, and historical accountability remain central to public discourse, this exhibition arrives not just as a commemoration—but as an intervention. It reminds Guyanese that independence is not merely a date to celebrate, but a process to continuously examine.

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

International Building Expo 2026 Nears Full Capacity as Global Participation Surges

Georgetown, Guyana — Preparations for the sixth edition of the International Building Expo are well underway, with organisers reporting near-full occupancy of exhibition space and strong international interest ahead of the four-day event set for June 25–28, 2026.

Hosted by the Ministry of Housing and Water under the theme “Guyana at 60: Building Strong Foundations for the Sustainable Future,” the expo has already allocated approximately 96 per cent of its available booths. The high demand reflects growing confidence in Guyana’s rapidly expanding housing and construction sector.

Minister of Housing and Water, Collin Croal, confirmed that the response has exceeded expectations, with only a limited number of spaces remaining. He noted that a significant number of exhibitors are international participants, underscoring Guyana’s increasing visibility on the global stage.

Exhibitors from approximately 11 countries have expressed interest in participating, including regional partners such as Barbados and Trinidad and Tobago, alongside international stakeholders from Canada, the United States, China, Costa Rica, Japan, and Italy. Local agencies and private-sector entities are also confirmed to participate.
Recognised as the largest event of its kind in the Caribbean, the International Building Expo serves as a premier platform for contractors, suppliers, financial institutions, policymakers, and investors to engage, network, and showcase advancements in housing, infrastructure, and construction technologies.

The Ministry of Housing and Water will maintain its traditional presence at the front of the exhibition venue, while also featuring its “Dream Realised” initiative in a dedicated rear section. This component will include another large-scale distribution of land titles, continuing a hallmark feature of recent expos.
The Ministry has clarified that housing applications will not be processed on-site during the event.

Prospective applicants are advised to utilise regional offices and established service channels.
Minister Croal highlighted that this year’s expo will place a strong emphasis on innovation, construction technology, and public education, aimed at enhancing awareness and understanding of housing and infrastructure development across Guyana.

First launched in 2010 under then Minister of Housing and Water Mohamed Irfaan Ali, the International Building Expo has evolved into a flagship regional event, connecting Guyana’s construction sector with regional and international markets.

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

BY: Staff— Writer

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣.    

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

The Anatomy of the Lie

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

When Leaders Lie About Money, They Are Hiding Something

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

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

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

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

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

A Project Built in Darkness

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

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

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

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

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

The Cost of Looking Away

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

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

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

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

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

What Must Happen Now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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