Our Voices, Our Strength

BY: Hem Kumar                             

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣’𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙡—𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬.

Across villages, towns, and cities, a quiet unease has been growing into something louder, something harder to ignore. It is not just about one man. It is not just about one party. It is about a pattern people believe they are seeing—one where power appears to tighten its grip, where justice feels uneven, and where fear is slowly being introduced into spaces that once held hope.

What happened on May 5th did not exist in isolation. It struck a nerve because it confirmed what many have been whispering: that dissent is becoming dangerous, and that those who challenge the status quo may be made examples of.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙚𝙩—𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚.

𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨? 𝙊𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙧, 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧—𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙤𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚?

Because let’s be clear: the road ahead will not be easy. It will test patience. It will test unity. It will test resolve. Those who choose to speak out will be scrutinized, pressured, and at times, isolated. That is the nature of any struggle where power is being questioned.

 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙪𝙥—𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙡𝙮, 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙮—𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙄𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨.

It is a call to citizens—regardless of race, class, or political alignment—to pay attention, to ask questions, and to refuse to accept a version of justice that depends on who you are or who you support.

If we allow fear to take root, then we surrender more than a moment—we surrender the very foundation of democracy itself.

And so, as the days unfold and tensions rise, one thing must remain unshaken: the belief that Guyana belongs to its people—not to power, not to intimidation, not to selective justice.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙪𝙥—𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙡𝙮, 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙮—𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙄𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨.

Because when justice becomes uncertain, it is not just leaders who are at risk—it is every citizen.

Stand steady. Stay vigilant. And most importantly, do not lose sight of what this is truly about: a Guyana where fairness is not a favor, but a right.

𝙒𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙩.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧.

𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐖𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 — 𝐎𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 —  𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭.

𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴,

𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳,

𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦

𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦.

𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥,

𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘳,

𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘎𝘶𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.

𝘚𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺—𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺,𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵:

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥?

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘵—

𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦,

𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳?

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘯𝘴.

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯.

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯.

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴.𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴.𝘐𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥—𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦,𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦.

𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦,𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦.

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺,

𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦.

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘯𝘴,

𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.

𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺—𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴,

𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴,

𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯.

𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱,

𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭.

𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵.

𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥—

𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵—𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘤𝘺

𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

𝘐𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧,

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺.

𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥.𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬.

𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘵—𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺.𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳—𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

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

The Price of Silence, What Changed at Kaieteur News?

𝗔 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄-𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗼 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗮 𝗙𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝗖𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗪𝗮𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗱 —𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝘆, 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲
𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲
𝘚𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦.
In our previous publication, we examined what appeared to be a quiet but consequential shift at Kaieteur News—a movement away from its historically defiant posture into something more measured, more selective, and, to some observers, more accommodating.
Since then, the response has not come in the form of clear rebuttals or transparent explanations. Instead, it has arrived in fragments—private outreach, careful distancing, and a noticeable discomfort with the questions themselves.
That, in itself, is revealing.
Because if nothing has changed, there should be nothing to explain.
Yet the pattern persists.
Critical submissions continue to face an invisible filter. “ Letters and Op-Ed’s” that once would have led the charge now struggle to find daylight. At the same time, issues of national consequence—such as the brutal murder of Sayieed Baksh—have failed to generate the sustained attention one would expect from institutions that once prided themselves on pursuing truth without fear or favor.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘴—𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭—𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦?
Increasingly, attention has turned to the intersection of editorial behavior and access to privilege.
There is growing public curiosity about allocations of prime lands along the East Bank Heroes Highway corridor and in Palmyra, Berbice— transactions that, while not unlawful on their face, demand transparency given the stature of those involved and the timing within which they occurred. In any healthy democracy, such matters would invite scrutiny, not silence.
So why the silence?
Is it coincidence that a period marked by editorial restraint aligns with whispers of increased proximity to state-linked opportunities? Or is Guyana witnessing a more sophisticated evolution of influence—one where pressure is no longer applied outwardly, but absorbed quietly through access and accommodation?
At the same time, another layer of concern has begun to surface.
Sources with knowledge of ongoing inquiries—speaking cautiously and within clear limits—have alluded to financial movements that extend beyond Guyana’s jurisdiction. References to accounts in Miami, and to transactions involving individuals connected to officialdom, have begun to circulate with increasing frequency.
No formal findings have been made public. No conclusions are asserted here.
But the questions are no longer isolated.
They are converging.
And within those questions, one curious line has emerged—repeated just often enough to invite scrutiny, but never fully explained.
“𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦.? 𝘖𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺?”
What exactly does it represent? A harmless indulgence? A coded reference? Or simply a convenient retort in a conversation that prefers not to speak plainly?
We do not speculate. But we do take note.
Because when editorial silence, privileged access, and unexplained financial references begin to occupy the same space—even loosely—the burden shifts.
Not to those asking the questions.
But to those in a position to answer them.
𝘒𝘢𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘶𝘳 𝘕𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯.
And if there is a reasonable explanation for what the public is now witnessing, then it should be offered—clearly, directly, and without evasion.
𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘥𝘰𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘬.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦—

Fastest Growing, Fundamentally Fragile

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩’𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖’𝙨 𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙘 𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜—𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜.
Finance Minister Dr. Ashni Singh wants the country to believe that today’s oil-fuelled boom is the natural and inevitable result of decades of PPP/C foresight, discipline, and economic genius. It is a neat story. Convenient. Self-serving.
And largely incomplete.
Yes, Guyana is now the world’s fastest-growing economy. That much is undeniable. But what the government refuses to confront—what it deliberately sidesteps—is the uncomfortable truth buried within the very reports it proudly cites.

The IMF, World Bank, and Inter-American Development Bank are not in the business of political flattery. And their assessments tell a far less triumphant story.
Strip away the oil, and what remains?
A fragile, under-diversified economy.
Weak institutional capacity.
Chronic implementation failures.
And a public sector struggling to keep pace with the very growth it celebrates.

The World Bank has warned, repeatedly, that Guyana’s non-oil economy lacks resilience. The IDB has flagged glaring deficiencies in governance, procurement, and project execution. These are not minor technical footnotes—they are structural red flags.
Yet, instead of addressing these realities with urgency and transparency, the government wraps itself in GDP statistics and calls it transformation.

This is not transformation. This is statistical intoxication.
Because while the numbers soar, ordinary Guyanese are left to navigate a very different reality: escalating living costs, chaotic infrastructure, overwhelmed health systems, and an education sector ill-prepared for the demands of a modern economy.

Where, exactly, is this prosperity being felt?
Certainly not evenly. And certainly not fairly.The administration’s narrative also leans heavily on historical revisionism—suggesting that today’s success is the direct outcome of policy decisions stretching back to 1992. But let’s be clear: Guyana’s current economic explosion is overwhelmingly driven by oil.
𝙊𝙞𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙨. 𝙊𝙞𝙡 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙊𝙞𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙨.
𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.
𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙪𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣.
𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣-𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙩𝙝.
𝙏𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜—𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙩.
𝙄𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙩𝙤𝙤, 𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙.
𝙄𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙤𝙞𝙡.
𝙃𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩—𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙞𝙘.

And herein lies the danger.
Because what happens when oil prices dip? When reserves decline? When global energy transitions accelerate?
What remains of this so-called “transformation”?
The IDB has already issued the warning: without stronger institutions, greater transparency, and disciplined management of public resources, Guyana risks squandering a once-in-a-generation opportunity.
That is not opposition rhetoric. That is expert assessment.
But instead of confronting these risks, the government continues to peddle a narrative of perfection—one where past leadership is beyond reproach and present challenges are conveniently ignored.

This is not leadership. This is deflection.
Guyana does not need mythology. It needs honesty.
It needs leaders who understand that growth without equity is hollow. That wealth without systems is unstable.
𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩:
𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙝—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡-𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙙.
𝙂𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚.
𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜—𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝙪𝙣𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤 𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛-𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮.
𝙁𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.
𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜
𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦

𝐀𝐈, 𝐎𝐢𝐥 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐆𝐮𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚

𝗚𝘂𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗹—𝘄𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁
Billions in oil revenues are flowing into state coffers at an unprecedented pace. Yet, for all this wealth, the structural realities remain deeply troubling: youth unemployment is persistently high, public healthcare and education systems are uneven at best, and procurement controversies continue to shadow major projects.
The uncomfortable truth is this—economic expansion is not translating into broad-based empowerment.
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘄, 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗹 𝗹𝗮𝗯𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝘁𝘀, 𝗚𝘂𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗸𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗺𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿.

𝗢𝗶𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀.
Today, the government is increasingly financed not by the productive output of its people, but by resource rents generated offshore. This matters. When a state does not depend on its citizens for revenue, it has fewer incentives to be transparent, efficient, or accountable. Taxation historically forced negotiation. Oil revenues bypass it.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗚𝘂𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗮? 𝗖𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗔𝗻𝗱, 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗻, 𝗼𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗶𝘁𝘆.
The Natural Resource Fund, heralded as a mechanism for safeguarding national wealth, remains a point of contention, with repeated concerns about withdrawals, oversight, and political control. Major infrastructure contracts continue to raise questions about transparency and value for money. Meanwhile, citizens—whose patrimony is being extracted at scale—are largely spectators to decisions that will define their economic future.
𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹. 𝗜𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗹.

𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝘁.
As artificial intelligence and automation reduce the need for human labor across sectors, the economic relevance of the average worker will decline further. In Guyana, where oil already dominates and diversification remains more rhetorical than real, this could entrench a model where wealth is generated with minimal participation from the population.
𝗔 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗶𝗿𝗰𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘀—𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝘀, 𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗽𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀—𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗶𝗹 𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗺𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗔𝗜-𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁? 𝗜𝗻𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵.
This is how accountability erodes—not through the removal of elections, but through the quiet stripping of their economic meaning.
A population that is not central to production has less leverage. A government that does not need broad-based taxation feels less pressure to justify its decisions. And a political system awash in rents can sustain inefficiency, patronage, and selective development far longer than a tax-dependent one ever could.

𝗚𝘂𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗼𝗺𝘀.
Despite record revenues, there is no commensurate urgency in transforming education to prepare citizens for a technologically disrupted future. No clear national strategy to ensure that AI and digital transformation create opportunities rather than deepen exclusion. No robust, independent enforcement architecture that consistently reassures citizens that public funds are being managed with integrity.

𝗜𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗱, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻: 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝘆, 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗰𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘁𝗵 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.
𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸—𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗹𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗺𝘀.
If left unchecked, Guyana could become a country where wealth expands on paper while citizen power contracts in reality. A nation rich in resources, but poor in accountability. A democracy in form, but increasingly hollow in function.

𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲—𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲.
Reversing course will require more than policy tweaks. It demands a fundamental shift in governance: enforceable transparency in the Natural Resource Fund, truly independent procurement oversight, aggressive investment in human capital, and a clear framework to ensure that emerging technologies serve the many—not the few.

𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗰.
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗰.
And if Guyana fails to confront this moment with honesty and urgency, we may soon discover that the greatest risk of our oil wealth—and our AI future—is not that it leaves us behind, but that it leaves most of us out.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐮𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐁𝐘: 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟-𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟓𝟗𝟐 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍
Guyana’s Minister of Local Government, Priya Manickchand, has launched a scathing attack on CARICOM leaders for engaging Venezuelan official Delcy Rodríguez while she sported a brooch depicting the Essequibo as Venezuelan territory. Her outrage, framed around the sanctity of sovereignty and principle, is—on the surface—understandable. But it is also transparently selective, and that very selectivity strips her position of any remaining moral authority.
Minister Manickchand correctly declared that “principle shouldn’t be convenient.” Yet, convenience has become the hallmark of this administration’s foreign policy. For decades, Cuba stood as a pillar of support for Guyana, providing critical medical expertise that our system relied upon. When the United States exerted pressure, Guyana turned its back on Havana, quietly terminating the Cuban Medical Brigade programme. Where was the public outcry regarding sovereignty and loyalty then? Apparently, principle only applies when it aligns with Washington’s current geopolitical push.
This duplicity is echoed in the recent missive from President Irfaan Ali to the CARICOM Chairman, in which he essentially demands that regional partners calibrate their bilateral engagements to suit Guyana’s sensitivities. It is a bold, if not arrogant, demand for a government that has remained notably silent when other CARICOM nations were being penalized by external powers for failing to fall in line with US interests.
To demand unwavering solidarity from one’s neighbours while exercising cold, opportunistic flexibility at home is a contradiction that does not go unnoticed in regional capitals.
CARICOM is a community of sovereign nations, not an extension of Georgetown’s foreign policy apparatus. Small island states, having navigated years of energy dependency through Petro-diplomacy, are being lectured by an administration that chose to align with Trinidad and Tobago—and by extension, Washington—at the expense of regional cohesion.
The hypocrisy is even more glaring when one looks inward. The government insists that the world must respect Guyana’s sovereignty, yet it refuses to practice that same respect within our own borders. The Attorney General and the President have actively shunned the Leader of the Opposition, denying him a seat at the table to be properly apprised of the upcoming ICJ proceedings. If this administration cannot be bothered to build a unified national front at home, it has no business demanding that CARICOM leaders carry that burden for them abroad.
Sovereignty is not merely a slogan to be brandished at regional summits; it is a responsibility upheld through transparency and inclusion. By excluding domestic stakeholders, the government weakens the very cause it seeks to defend.
Venezuela’s provocative use of symbols is an attempt to project authority where it has none, and it certainly warrants objection. But let us be clear: this is not a loyalty test that Guyana is qualified to administer. You cannot outsource your own integrity.
President Ali and Minister Manickchand are currently posturing as defenders of the realm, yet their actions border on the very bullyism they claim to oppose. They demand from our neighbours a standard they refuse to hold themselves to, assuming that CARICOM will act as a subservient instrument of their selective outrage. They are mistaken.
Diplomacy in the Caribbean is a complex balancing act, and if Guyana wishes to command genuine support, it must stop demanding compliance and start leading with consistency.
𝙎𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙩𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚. 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙚.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣 — 𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬. 𝐀𝐥𝐢 -𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐏𝐏𝐏 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 – 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐜𝐡

𝐁𝐘: 𝐆𝐇𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐋𝐋

My thinking was that Irfaan Ali, Guyana’s PhD president needed urgent help to make better use of his time. Searching for, locating, and dealing with the best people would assist him to prioritize, leave a lasting impression, eventually. I prefer being wrong; a president is involved. He jumped out; proved me right. About time mismanagement. A brooch, Dr. President? Is somebody kidding? Of all the matters crying for immediate attention, a brooch worn by America’s Venezuelan presidential plant with Essequibo ingrained, is what sends Excellency Ali off, drives him to get in the face of CARICOM leaders? Knock me down; let me stay down there, please. It’s better to be at the bottom than have to deal with this type of, ah (er), genius now so popular in modern Guyana. Worth saying again, however painful: new PhDs lack past profoundness.
Former Venezuelan caudillo, Nicolo Maduro Doro, repeatedly called Guyana’s Irfaan Ali an imperialist stooge, and his PPP Govt an American puppet. Shades of the PPP’s newest, closest friends, the Red Chinese. Neither he nor anybody in the PPP could generate a halfway hearty riposte. But Irfaan Ali is up the wall and going to the mat on some brooch. Of course, it is the symbolism, the bold-faced testing of the waters in the Venezuelan leader’s appalling audacity and arrogance. Aside: unless Americans put her up to that, so they can rush to Guyana’s side, emphasize the special friendship between the US-Guyana. America controls Guyana, dangles its leaders on a string. America suspends Venezuelan leaders by their neckties, and they still delight in sticking their tongues at GT and the PPP.
Now Pres Ali is on fire and he runs to some CARICOM leaders with sharp protests to convey his displeasure. He, a president, was labeled “insolent” by the now jailed onetime Venezuelan badman, and what did Excellency Ali do? He settled for silence as his trusted companion. Clearly, there is some difficulty within PPP Govt camps in figuring out how to keep Pres. Ali focused, and maximizing returns from his scarce time. It was he himself who said in his first year, that he’s a busy man, with a million matters managed all at once. But he is so sharp-eyed, and brilliantly advised, that he zeroes in a brooch and makes a big stink about it.
Venezuelan agents violate borders, shoot Guyanese soldiers, sack local communities, haul away spoils. The best that PPP Govt headmen have to offer is soft words, softer sticks, and the softest footsteps. But a miniscule, miserable, and maggot-like brooch is made into this monstrous apparition and existential concern. Is this PPP Govt a comedy or an effigy? When I first read of Senora Delcy Rodriguez’s daring foreign adventure, while armed with a brooch, my reaction was if that is how she gets an adrenalin rush, then the gracious lady is best given wide berth, left to her antics. Civilized Guyanese know that’s exactly how one responds on encountering certain citizens on the street. People talking to themselves. People dressed in gaudy costumes, with bizarre ornaments completing intriguing dress codes.
Because I know how PPP leadership thinks, Dr. Ali’s firefight over a fly is taking a sledgehammer to a snail. Much ado about the rambunctious and frivolous. At bottom, it is the PPP Govt’s (and leadership) patented pattern of deflection. Distracting from the ruff stuff, covering up the tuff stuff. Like that US$2 billion gas project bacchanal. Pres Ali has studiously avoided addressing the gaping exposés in that energy masquerade, and in Delcy Rodriguez’s brooch he found the perfect distraction for gullible Guyanese. Recall the four-step recovery program developed by the PPP. Distort first. When that fails, deflect. Should that drop dead, then deny. And when all of those fall apart, then seek and destroy the messengers. Ali sealed his lips on the US$2 billion bag of tricks. Delcy Rodriguez’s brooch pulled his lips apart.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣-𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮,𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨.— ✦

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 — 𝐔𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

When Home Affairs Minister Oneidge Walrond launched her now-infamous crackdown on tinted vehicles, she stood before the nation and told us what was meant to be a defining line in law enforcement reform:
“𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆.” 𝑵𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔, 𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒐 “𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔.” 𝑵𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍-𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓.
But Guyanese citizens are now left asking — did she mean a word of it?
Because for days, social media has been flooded with footage showing a government-issued pickup — a multimillion-dollar taxpayer-funded vehicle — being hauled from a trench. The incident reportedly followed a night out, and according to multiple accounts, the driver was none other than Minister Walrond’s own son. The videos show laughter and levity where accountability should have been.
And what has been the official response? Silence.
Not a word from the Ministry of Home Affairs. Not a statement from the police hierarchy, which operates under her authority. Not even an acknowledgment from the Minister herself — despite journalists having put the question directly to her within the same Police Media Group she oversees.
If it were an ordinary citizen caught recklessly misusing public property, the Minister’s tint-crackdown swagger would have reappeared in full force. There would be arrests, charges, and public shaming. Instead, the institutions that exist to enforce standards seem paralyzed under proximity to power.
This is not just hypocrisy — it is a constitutional distortion. The police, reportedly instructed to step back when she appeared at the scene, raise the troubling specter of executive interference.
𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒍𝒂𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑮𝒖𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒂’𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒉.
So yes, let’s address this anomaly — this glaring betrayal of the “One Guyana” promise. The Minister of Home Affairs cannot credibly lead a ministry dedicated to impartial justice while selectively shielding her own family. The standards she demands of the public must extend to her household.
When it comes to Family, Friends, and Favourites, it seems the Ministry of Home Affairs has one unwritten rule: silence is the policy.
Reports identify the driver as the Home Affairs Minister’s son, allegedly after leaving a nightclub. What followed was not transparency, but a wall of silence thick enough to hide a scandal.
That silence raises urgent questions of public accountability:
•𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐮𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚? 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬.
•𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐳𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞? 𝐈𝐟 𝐬𝐨, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬? 𝐈𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 — 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞?
•𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬?
•𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 — 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐮𝐦 — 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝?
It is difficult to avoid the stench of double standards. The same woman who spent the past year lecturing the public about responsibility, road safety, and accountability has gone mute when those principles touch her own doorstep.
Last year, at the launching of Road Safety Month, Minister Walrond warned against “carelessness, speed and distraction” and pledged that even a single death caused by a drunk driver was “one too many.” She later stood beside a grieving mother at an event for victims of road accidents, her voice thick with empathy as she spoke of “tragedies we have the power to prevent.”
In December, she thundered about transparency, promising to bring an end to the “selective practices of the past.”
Today, those very words have returned to challenge her credibility. By allegedly interfering in the crash scene and remaining silent while the police hold their breath, she has done exactly what she accused others of doing — bending the law for convenience and privilege.
𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒐𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔. 𝑰𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒔.
When the Minister responsible for law and order fails to submit herself and her family to the same standards she is mandated to apply to ordinary citizens, she undermines every police officer, every prosecutor, and every citizen who still believes in equal justice under law.
No minister can credibly lead a portfolio dedicated to “safe, transparent, and enforceable” governance while embodying the opposite.
The time for silence has passed. Minister Oneidge Walrond must go — not because of the circulation of a video, but because she has forfeited the moral authority to lead. The people’s desire is clear: Guyana deserves a Home Affairs Minister who serves the law, not one who bends it.
𝑰𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒖𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓: 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣 — 𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝 , 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙄𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨

161 Billion for Health, but None for Marlon

When the government boasted of a record $161.1 billion allocation to the health sector this year, it was sold to the nation as an affirmation of progress — gleaming hospitals, high-tech diagnostics, and a promise that “all Guyanese” would benefit from improved healthcare delivery. Yet, as a nation, we stand today in collective mourning.
Twelve-year-old Marlon Jupiter is dead — gone before his time — because the state that swore to protect him could not find $7 million to save his life.
Marlon suffered from T-lymphoblastic lymphoma, a rare but treatable cancer. The care he needed did not exist in Guyana. His family, like so many others before them, turned to the public with desperation — social media pleas, bake sales, and appeals for help. While they struggled to raise US$35,000, the government was signing off on hundreds of millions in discretionary allocations: $900 million for “Men on a Mission,” $300 million for the Office of the President, and untold sums for lavish conferences, diplomatic missions, and “consultations.”
In a budget where individual kickbacks can exceed $7 million, it is a national disgrace that a child was forced to die for want of that same amount.
What value do mounds of concrete and air-conditioned wards carry when life-saving treatment remains beyond reach? Of what use are billion-dollar budgets when their impact cannot be measured in the preservation of a single innocent life? This country continues to exhibit a pathology of misaligned priorities — where optics eclipse substance, where monuments matter more than lives, and where political showpieces are dressed up as “investments in health.”
When “healthcare” is invoked to justify building promenades for private hospitals and expanding vanity projects under the First Lady’s fund, we see what truly drives the expenditure: image management, not human welfare. The Constitution guarantees free healthcare, but “free” means nothing when it is hollow — when fundamental care is missing, and when bureaucracy and neglect replace compassion and responsiveness.
Marlon’s death is not just a tragedy. It is an indictment. It represents criminal negligence by a state that failed to deploy its resources toward their constitutional purpose — the preservation of life.
Every public dollar misused or hoarded for politics is a moral crime, costing lives like Marlon’s. A government’s greatness is not measured by how many hospitals it builds but by how many lives its health system can save — in real time, when help is needed most.
Rest easy, young Marlon. You deserved better.
And to those in power: your legacy will be judged not by the floodlights on new infrastructure, but by the number of children who lived to see adulthood because you chose compassion over vanity.