Public Day or Political Play? The Chronicle’s Curious Editorial

BY: Hem Kumar 

𝙏𝙝𝙚 592 𝙂𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 “𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥” 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞.

What the PPP/C is branding as “Public Day” is less a breakthrough in governance and more a carefully choreographed exercise in political optics—timed, conveniently, as Local Government Elections loom on the horizon. When state machinery is mobilised to promote what is essentially a party-led engagement, the line between governance and campaigning becomes dangerously blurred.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 “𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫: 𝐢𝐟 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥—𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞.

A truly responsive government does not need a designated day, a centralised venue, and a media push to hear from its citizens. It builds systems where grievances are addressed routinely, efficiently, and without fanfare. The very existence of this “open door” day raises an uncomfortable question: why are those doors not open every other day of the year?

The reality is that many Guyanese have long understood what this initiative represents. That is why, outside of these orchestrated settings, public offices remain plagued by bureaucracy, delays, and indifference. Citizens are forced to navigate a system where basic services—from land allocation to NIS claims—often stall unless escalated through political channels.

𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦. 𝐈𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐲𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦

Even more troubling is the role of the state media in amplifying this exercise. Taxpayer-funded platforms are being deployed not to inform in a balanced and neutral manner, but to promote a carefully curated narrative of accessibility and responsiveness. Entire editorials and broadcasts are dedicated to elevating what is, in essence, a partisan political initiative, dressed in the language of national service.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧—𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐝 𝐢𝐭.

When state media becomes a mouthpiece for political messaging, it undermines its core obligation to serve the entire nation impartially. Instead of scrutinising whether such initiatives reflect systemic strength or weakness, it participates in selling the illusion of effectiveness, sidelining legitimate questions about governance failures that make such “special days” necessary in the first place.

Even more telling is the timing. Held on a weekday, from 10:00 hrs, this initiative assumes that ordinary citizens—workers, vendors, farmers—can simply abandon their livelihoods to stand in line for access to officials. For many, that is not a realistic option. A day’s absence from work is a day’s lost income, and for countless households, that cost is too high.

If this effort were genuinely about inclusion, why not host it on a Sunday? Why not decentralise it further into communities where people live and work? Why not strengthen permanent channels so citizens do not have to wait for a political event to be heard?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭.

Because Public Day is not designed for maximum accessibility—it is designed for maximum visibility.
The government points to individual success stories: a drainage issue resolved, a device distributed, a complaint fast-tracked. But governance cannot be measured by isolated interventions delivered under the glare of cameras. Real governance is measured by systems that function without political mediation, where citizens receive services as a right, not as a favour granted in a public forum.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥.

When hundreds flock to a single event seeking solutions to long-standing issues, it does not signal success—it signals systemic failure. It exposes a governance structure where routine mechanisms are either too slow, too opaque, or too ineffective to inspire public confidence.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬.

Critics who describe this as political theatre are not dismissing engagement—they are questioning its authenticity. Theatre, after all, depends on staging, timing, and audience perception. And in this case, the staging is deliberate, the timing is strategic, and the audience is the electorate.

𝐆𝐮𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

As the country moves deeper into an oil-fuelled economic transformation, the stakes for governance are rising. Wealth alone will not define progress—institutions will. And strong institutions are built on consistency, transparency, and equal access, not on periodic displays of attentiveness.
Public Day may create the impression of closeness between government and people. But impressions are not institutions, and visibility is not accountability.

𝐈𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.

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