Diaspora Engagement

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Introduction

The recent launch of the Guyana Digital School, a repository of digital resources customized for Moodle that serves 10th- and 11th-grade students, represents a potential landmark investment in the nation’s future, leveraging its newfound oil wealth to tackle long-standing educational disparities [1, 2]. The initiative, which provides a free, blended-learning platform to students in Guyana and across the Caribbean, is ambitious and laudable. However, extensive research on educational technology (EdTech) initiatives in developing nations reveals a landscape littered with well-intentioned failures. Success is not guaranteed by technology or funding alone; it requires a deep understanding of the complex interplay between technology, pedagogy, infrastructure, and human factors.

This expanded analysis moves beyond a preliminary assessment to amplify the critical challenges identified in global research, define a concrete and measurable framework for success, and outline a realistic, evidence-based pathway for implementation. The central thesis is that for the Guyana Digital School to succeed, it must be implemented not as a technology project, but as a comprehensive, human-centered educational reform program.

The Challenges: A Research-Based Perspective

While the initial assessment identified key risks such as the digital divide and teacher capacity, research from organizations like UNICEF, which has studied digital learning implementation in over 15 countries, provides a more granular and urgent perspective on the potential pitfalls [9]. The following table amplifies these challenges, translating global lessons into specific, high-stakes questions for Guyana’s implementation strategy.

Addressing these amplified challenges head-on is the first step on a realistic path to success. The next step is to define success in concrete, measurable terms.

Defining and Measuring Success: A Multi-Dimensional Framework

To avoid the common pitfall of celebrating high enrollment as a proxy for success, the Guyana Digital School must adopt a rigorous, multi-dimensional framework for defining and measuring its impact. Success is not a single metric but a composite of achievements across five critical domains. The following framework, grounded in educational research, provides a comprehensive, balanced scorecard for the initiative.

Key Performance Indicators (KPIs) and Targets

Each domain is measured by specific, time-bound KPIs. The table below provides examples of primary KPIs and realistic three-year targets.

This framework moves beyond vanity metrics to provide a true measure of educational impact. A failure to meet these targets, particularly on equity and learning outcomes, should be seen as a critical warning sign requiring immediate strategic intervention.

A Realistic Pathway to Sustainable Success

Ambition must be matched with a disciplined, evidence-based implementation strategy. A rushed, technology-first rollout risks squandering the significant financial investment and political will behind this project. The following three-phase pathway, grounded in implementation science research, offers a realistic approach to building a sustainable and impactful national education ecosystem.

Phase 1: The Foundational Year (Year 1) – Pilot, Prepare, and Prove

The primary goal of this phase is not national scale, but deep learning. It involves building a solid foundation by testing assumptions in a controlled environment, de-risking the major challenges, and gathering the baseline data necessary for intelligent scaling.

The critical output of Phase 1 is not national enrollment, but a proven, replicable implementation model and a rich dataset demonstrating its efficacy in the Guyanese context.

Phase 2: Expansion and Iteration (Years 2-3) – Scale, Solve, and Standardize

With a proven model from Phase 1, the goal is now to scale the initiative nationally while using data to solve emerging problems and standardize best practices.

Phase 3: Maturity and Sustainability (Years 4-5) – Embed, Empower, and Export

The final phase focuses on embedding the Digital School into the very fabric of the national education system, ensuring its long-term sustainability, and positioning Guyana as a regional leader.

 From Vision to Victory

The Guyana Digital School is one of the most promising educational initiatives in the Caribbean, backed by a level of political will and financial resources that is exceptionally rare. Its success has the potential to not only transform education in Guyana but also to create a blueprint for the entire developing world.

However, the research is unequivocal: victory is not inevitable. It will not be secured by the technology alone, but by the quality of the implementation. Success requires embracing the complexities of the human and logistical factors on the ground. It demands a shift in mindset from a technology rollout to a long-term educational reform movement.

By amplifying real-world challenges, defining success in terms of measurable learning and equity, and following a disciplined, phased, and evidence-based pathway, Guyana can turn its ambitious vision into a sustainable, transformative, and resounding victory for its children and the region.

References

[1] News Source Guyana. (2025, December 7). Guyana Digital School seeks to transform education delivery. https://newssourcegy.com/news/guyana-digital-school-seeks-to-transform-education-delivery/

[2] Associated Press. (2025, December 6). Awash in oil money, Guyana unveils a new digital school to boost education in the Caribbean. https://apnews.com/article/guyana-online-learning-digital-school-caribbean-4d501e7ff29e5cd6d513c33fccde8d7c

[3] Guyana Times. (2025, December 6). Over 20,000 students across Guyana, Caricom sign up as Guyana Digital School launches. https://guyanatimesgy.com/over-20000-students-across-guyana-caricom-sign-up-as-guyana-digital-school-launches/

[4] Guyana Digital School. (n.d.). The Four Quadrant Approach to Learning. Retrieved December 7, 2025, from https://digitalschool.moe.edu.gy/

[5] Topping, K. J., Douglas, W., Robertson, D., & Ferguson, N. (2022). Effectiveness of online and blended learning from schools: A systematic review. Review of Education, 10(2). https://bera-journals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/rev3.3353

[6] Basar, Z. M., Mansor, A. N., Jamaludin, K. A., & Alias, B. S. (2021). The Effectiveness and Challenges of Online Learning for Secondary School Students – A Case Study. Asian Journal of University Education, 17(3). https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ1309475.pdf

[7] Bhuasiri, W., Xaymoungkhoun, O., Zo, H., & Rho, J. J. (2012). Critical success factors for e-learning in developing countries: A comparative analysis between ICT experts and faculty. Computers & Education, 58(2), 843-855. https://files.ifi.uzh.ch/hilty/t/Literature_by_RQs/RQ%20306/2012_Bhuasiri_Xaymoungkhoun_Zo_Critical_success_factors_for_e-learning_in_developing_countries.pdf

[8] International Trade Administration. (2024, September 19). Guyana – Digital Economy. U.S. Department of Commerce. https://www.trade.gov/country-commercial-guides/guyana-digital-economy

[9] Dreesen, T., & Giraldo, J. P. (n.d.). Top 10 reasons digital learning succeeds or fails. UNICEF Innocenti Global Office of Research and Foresight. Retrieved December 7, 2025, from https://www.unicef.org/innocenti/top-10-reasons-digital-learning-succeeds-or-fails

 

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Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.

 

 

 

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In 2022, the Guyana Business Journal launched the Navigating a Changing Guyana series with a clear and urgent mandate: to build the informational architecture for meaningful citizenship in an oil economy. We recognized that the diaspora’s frustration ran deeper than mere inconvenience—the fragmented, opaque media environment was producing a dangerous democratic deficit at the very moment when Guyana required its most informed, most vigilant public discourse. From our inaugural forum in Miramar, Florida, to subsequent convenings in Atlanta, Washington D.C., and London, we assembled a deliberate coalition: respected national figures, academics, business leaders, and industry representatives whose collective expertise could illuminate what rhetoric often obscures [1] [10] [11] [12]. Each event created not merely a space for conversation, but a countervailing force against the twin dangers of uninformed acquiescence and reflexive antagonism—both of which leave nations vulnerable in asymmetric negotiations with global capital.

The foundational purpose of these conversations has now crystallized with remarkable clarity. They were never exercises in cheerleading or confrontation, never platforms for either promotional enthusiasm or performative outrage. Their objective was, and remains, the cultivation of an informed public capable of engaging critically and constructively with the most consequential development moment since independence. This is not aspirational rhetoric but strategic necessity, substantiated by extensive research demonstrating that robust citizen participation is not merely desirable but a prerequisite for effective natural resource governance—a cornerstone of accountability, equity, and sustainable development that distinguishes transformative resource booms from extractive catastrophes [2] [3]. Securing the presence of ExxonMobil’s leadership was not an endorsement of corporate practice but an assertion of a fundamental democratic right: Guyanese, at home and abroad, deserve direct access to the corporate actors shaping our national destiny. The choice was deliberate and the principle non-negotiable: engagement is not capitulation; it is statecraft.

Consider the alternative. A nation that retreats into suspicion or estrangement, that mistakes isolation for independence and confrontation for strength, forfeits the very leverage it seeks to build. It cedes the initiative, surrenders the informational advantage, and consigns itself to reactive rather than proactive positioning. Conversely, a nation that engages—intelligently, transparently, systematically, and with unwavering resolve—establishes the conditions not for capitulation but for genuine mutual benefit grounded in accountability. The Miramar initiative, and the series that followed, was a declaration that Guyana must choose the latter path. It posed the critical question that continues to define our trajectory: can Guyana transcend both the politics of grievance and the rhetoric of uncritical transactionalism to forge a principled partnership grounded in accountability, empirical rigor, and a non-negotiable commitment to broadly shared national development? This imperative is precisely what animates global standards like the Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (EITI), which provides a formal, multi-stakeholder framework for structured engagement between governments, companies, and civil society—recognizing that transparency without engagement is sterile, and engagement without transparency is perilous [4].

This remains the central question of our time, and answering it successfully requires that Guyana operate with its eyes wide open. This demands a dual recognition that rejects both naïve optimism and cynical defeatism: acknowledging ExxonMobil as a formidable global entity whose corporate interests will not invariably align with our own, while simultaneously understanding that structured engagement—fortified by robust regulation, institutional competence, technical capacity, and broad-based civic participation—will yield far more for the Guyanese people than either isolation or performative antagonism ever could. The annals of economic history offer a sobering education here. They are filled with cautionary tales of the “resource curse,” where the paradox of plenty has led not to prosperity but to economic stagnation, institutional decay, political instability, and deepening inequality [5] [6]. These are not abstract academic concepts but the documented experiences of nations that discovered oil and lost their way. Indeed, critical analyses of Guyana’s own historical trajectory contend that foreign dominance of extractive sectors has historically impeded, rather than advanced, our national development—a pattern that demands not resignation but determined reversal [7]. To defy this historical pattern is not a matter of hope or wishful thinking, but of deliberate institutional design, sustained civic mobilization, and unflinching political will.

The work we began in 2022, and have carried from city to city across the diaspora, affirmed an unmistakable truth that bears constant repetition: an informed citizenry and an engaged diaspora are not supplementary assets or optional luxuries; they are strategic national imperatives. They fundamentally expand our negotiating posture by demonstrating to external actors that Guyana possesses not merely government representatives but an activated public capable of scrutinizing agreements and demanding accountability. They elevate the national discourse by insisting that technical complexity is not an excuse for elite exclusivity, that accessibility does not require the sacrifice of rigor, and that the most sophisticated policy debates must ultimately answer to the democratic principle that sovereignty resides in the people. They guarantee that development is an endeavor undertaken with the people of Guyana, not to them—a distinction that separates legitimate transformation from neo-colonial extraction regardless of the formal nationality of the actors involved. A wealth of academic literature confirms what intuition suggests: diaspora communities are powerful catalysts for development, contributing not only through financial remittances and direct investment but, more critically, through the transfer of knowledge, institutional best practices, technical expertise, and global networks that can accelerate capacity-building and strengthen governance [8] [9]. By strategically mobilizing these invaluable assets, by treating the diaspora not as distant observers but as invested stakeholders with rights and responsibilities, Guyana can build the institutional capacity and civic infrastructure required to secure a prosperous and equitable future that extends beyond a single generation or a single commodity cycle.

This is our unfinished—and most necessary—project. The forums we have convened represent not completed work but foundational investments in a longer struggle for democratic control over our national resources and our collective destiny. The conversations we have facilitated are not endpoints but entry points into a sustained process of public education, institutional accountability, and civic mobilization. The access we have demanded and secured—to information, to expertise, to decision-makers—is not a courtesy extended but a right exercised, and one that must be defended and expanded with vigilance. As Guyana stands at this historic inflection point, with unprecedented revenue streams beginning to flow and transformative choices looming on every horizon, the imperative is clear: we must choose engagement over isolation, transparency over opacity, informed participation over resigned spectatorship, and collective agency over elite capture. The stakes could not be higher, and the choice could not be more consequential. This is the work that continues, the mandate that endures, and the standard to which we must hold not only our leaders but ourselves.

References

[1] Guyana Business Journal. (2022, December 7). Navigating a Changing Guyana: Pathways to Prosperity. https://guyanabusinessjournal.com/2022/12/navigating-a-changing-guyana-pathways-to-prosperity/

[2] Kibe, E. (2023). Citizen participation in natural resource governance. European Journal of Development Studies, 3(1).

[3] Kurniawan, N. I., et al. (2022). The role of local participation in the governance of natural resource extraction. The Extractive Industries and Society, 9, 101069.

[4] Natural Resource Governance Institute (NRGI). (2015). The Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (EITI): Using EITI to Promote Policy Reform. NRGI Reader.

[5] Sachs, J. D., & Warner, A. M. (1995). Natural resource abundance and economic growth. NBER Working Paper No. 5398.

[6] Sachs, J. D., & Warner, A. M. (2001). The curse of natural resources. European Economic Review, 45(4-6), 827-838.

[7] John, T. J. (2024). Guyana: Myth of capitalist resource extraction as development. The Extractive Industries and Society, 17, 101416.

[8] Minto-Coy, I. D. (2016). Diaspora engagement for development in the Caribbean. In Diasporas, Development and Governance (pp. 135-152). Springer.

[9] Cummings, M. E., & Gamlen, A. (2019). Diaspora engagement institutions and venture investment activity in developing countries. Journal of International Business Policy, 2(3), 289-313.

[10] Guyana Graphic. (2023, May 24). Navigating a Changing Guyana: Pathways to Prosperity in the Era of Oil and Gas in Atlanta GA. https://www.guyanagraphic.com/events/navigating-a-changing-guyana-pathways-to-prosperity-in-the-era-of-oil-and-gas-in-atlanta-ga/

[11] Guyana Graphic. (2023, June 21). Guyana Business Journal, Navigating a Changing Guyana, Washington DC, June 21, 2023. https://guyanagraphic.caribbeancommunitylive.com/business/guyana-business-journal-navigating-a-changing-guyana-washington-dc-june-21-2023/

[12] Guyana Business Journal. (2023, August 19). Media Advisory: Navigating A Changing Guyana, Chancellors Hall, University of London, August 16, 2023. https://guyanabusinessjournal.com/2023/08/media-advisory-navigating-a-changing-guyana-chancellors-hall-university-of-london-august-16-2023/

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Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.

 

 

 

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A major announcement from global energy giant Chevron is set to reverberate strongly across Guyana, signaling a new phase of investment and opportunity. On December 3, 2025, Chevron confirmed a capital expenditure plan of US$18–$19 billion for 2026, with a significant portion aimed at expanding deep-water offshore operations in Guyana. [1] While the figure represents a disciplined approach to global spending, the strategic focus on Guyana validates the nation’s standing as a core pillar of global energy production. It presents a critical inflection point for the country’s economic future—particularly concerning the imperative for robust local participation.

This investment plan comes shortly after Chevron’s landmark US$55 billion acquisition of Hess Corporation, a move that transferred a 30% stake in the prolific Stabroek Block to Chevron. The 2026 budget allocates approximately US$7 billion to offshore production, a fund that will support developments in Guyana alongside projects in the Eastern Mediterranean and the U.S. Gulf of Mexico. In the words of Chevron’s CEO Mike Wirth, the program is sharply focused on “the highest-return opportunities,” a clear endorsement of the Stabroek Block’s world-class potential.

For Guyana, this commitment is more than just a headline number; it is a powerful validation of the nation’s vast oil potential from one of the world’s most influential corporate investors. At a time when global energy markets remain volatile, Chevron’s decision to double down on its Guyanese assets signals deep confidence in the long-term viability and profitability of the country’s offshore fields. This strategy, which balances fast-cycle U.S. shale operations with long-term deepwater projects like those in Guyana, is designed to stabilize cash flows and ensure sustained returns, cementing Guyana’s role in Chevron’s global portfolio for the decade to come.

However, the true measure of success for Guyana will be the extent to which this massive foreign investment translates into tangible, sustainable opportunities for its own people and businesses. The expansion of offshore operations will inevitably increase demand for a wide array of local support services, including logistics, port operations, maintenance, supply-chain management, and skilled labor. This presents both a significant opportunity and a profound challenge. The key question is whether Guyanese businesses are prepared to meet the rigorous technical, safety, and operational standards of a supermajor like Chevron, and whether the national policy framework is robust enough to ensure they have a fair chance to compete and thrive.

This moment demands a proactive and strategic response from all Guyanese stakeholders. For local entrepreneurs and service providers, the time is now to build capacity, pursue international certifications, and forge strategic partnerships to elevate their offerings to world-class levels. It is not enough to be present; local businesses must become indispensable partners in the value chain.

For policymakers, Chevron’s commitment provides even greater leverage to strengthen and enforce local content legislation, ensuring that opportunities are not just available but are actively directed toward Guyanese nationals and companies. Furthermore, this is the time to press for deeper investments in workforce training, technology transfer, and critical infrastructure—especially in port and logistics facilities—that will underpin the sector for decades. Transparent and forward-thinking revenue management is also paramount, with a clear focus on funding economic diversification, sustainable development, and a post-oil future for the nation.

Chevron’s 2026 investment plan is a defining chapter in Guyana’s emergence as a global energy supplier. It signals a period of sustained offshore activity that will drive government revenues and ripple through the economy. For the readership of the Guyana Business Journal—investors, contractors, regulators, and policymakers—this development is a clear call to action. Stakeholders who prepare now, with a relentless focus on building local capacity and fostering an environment of excellence, will be best positioned to ensure that this wave of investment lifts all boats and secures a prosperous and resilient future for Guyana.

References

[1] Dang, S. (2025, December 3). Chevron to spend up to $19 billion next year in focus on US, Guyana oil production. Reuters. Retrieved from https://www.reuters.com/business/energy/chevron-spend-up-19-billion-next-year-focus-us-guyana-oil-production-2025-12-03/

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Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.

 

 

 

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In a wide-ranging interview on “The Countdown” with host Andrew Weekes, Dr. Terrence Blackman—Professor and Chair of Mathematics at Medgar Evers College, CUNY, and founder of the Guyana Business Journal—delivered a sobering assessment of Guyana’s current trajectory. Speaking from Boston on the final Sunday of November 2025, Dr. Blackman articulated what he and others have termed Guyana’s “third founding moment”: a unique convergence of unprecedented oil wealth, persistent systemic challenges, and emerging existential threats that demand transformative leadership and national unity.

The conversation, spanning nearly two hours, revealed the analytical depth and moral clarity that have characterized Dr. Blackman’s engagement with Guyana’s development challenges. From the mathematics classroom to the geopolitical chessboard, his analysis connected seemingly disparate issues—educational failure, resource mismanagement, democratic deficits, and regional security threats—into a coherent narrative about a nation at a crossroads.

The Mathematics of Exclusion

Dr. Blackman began with an uncomfortable truth: Guyana’s education system is failing the majority of its children, with devastating long-term consequences. Drawing on his direct experience teaching Guyanese students at Medgar Evers College for over twenty-five years, he provided empirical evidence of a significant decline in mathematical competency. “I can chart in the work of the students the evolution of the educational effectiveness of Guyana within the context of mathematics,” he stated, “and I can say without contradiction that the quality of mathematics education has significantly declined in Guyana over the last 25 years.”

The statistics he highlighted should alarm every policymaker and parent in the nation. While the Ministry of Education has celebrated a 55% pass rate in mathematics at the CSEC level, Dr. Blackman reframed this figure: “What that says is that 45% of the students did not pass across the entire nation.” At more advanced levels, the situation grows more dire, with only 32% passing—a 68% failure rate.

But Dr. Blackman’s concern extends beyond statistics to their human implications. “If 68% of the students can’t get through a grade 12 exam in mathematics, what it means is that they’re doomed forever,” he explained. “They can’t be petroleum engineers. They can’t be accountants and financial analysts. They can’t participate meaningfully in the value chain that is being set up. Someone else will have to do that, and you will, unfortunately, become a serf in your own land.”

This is not hyperbole but mathematical reality. In Guyana’s emerging oil and gas economy, mathematical competency serves as the gateway to meaningful participation. Without it, citizens cannot access careers in petroleum engineering, geophysics, operations research, financial analysis, or the myriad technical fields that will define economic opportunity in the coming decades. The education system is thus producing a generation systematically excluded from the prosperity unfolding in their own country.

The root cause, Dr. Blackman argued, lies in teacher competency. “What we have is a situation where our teachers are not as effective in mathematics as they ought to be,” he observed, noting that he had previously reviewed the mathematics curriculum at Cyril Potter College of Education and proposed strengthening measures that were never implemented. Teachers cannot provide conceptual depth when they themselves know only the algorithms they must teach. The result is rote learning that produces students who can follow procedures but lack the deep understanding necessary for advanced work.

Dr. Blackman’s proposed solution is both straightforward and demanding: “A genuine effort aimed at improving the content knowledge of our teachers, from primary school, secondary school, and all the way up.” This means not superficial professional development conferences, but systematic upskilling that enables teachers to understand mathematics well beyond what they must teach. It means incentivizing continuous learning and rewarding demonstrated competency. It means, fundamentally, prioritizing expertise over political patronage in educational appointments.

He also called for curriculum reform, noting that the CXC examination system, while useful, “is weak” and “not globally competitive.” Having observed the Caribbean Science Olympiad, where Guyanese students consistently underperform peers from Jamaica, Trinidad, and Barbados, Dr. Blackman concluded that even top students lack the conceptual sophistication needed for institutions like MIT. Guyana, with its newfound wealth, has an opportunity to lead regional educational reform, establishing standards that prepare students not merely to pass examinations but to compete globally.

Perhaps most poignantly, Dr. Blackman framed educational failure as moral failure. “In a country of 800,000 people with perhaps 250,000 children in school, if 68% of the students can’t get through a grade 12 exam, we can’t sit here and say it’s okay for 68 out of 100 children to be consigned to a second-class life. It’s a moral imperative.” In a nation professing Christian, Hindu, and Islamic values, he suggested, allowing children to fail when resources exist to help them succeed represents a fundamental betrayal of those values.

The Paradox of Prosperity

In education, the conversation turned to economics, where Dr. Blackman identified a troubling paradox: Guyana boasts one of the world’s fastest growth rates—official forecasts project 10.3% GDP growth for 2025, with some estimates reaching 15.2%—yet nearly half the population lives on less than $5.50 a day. The nation possesses the highest per capita oil reserves globally, yet its citizens face rising food prices, stagnant wages, and limited access to quality healthcare.

“These things are not merely economic statistics,” Dr. Blackman insisted. “This is moral failure.” He continued: “It is a moral failure when you have billions of dollars coming into a government’s coffers and then children are going hungry. It is a moral failure when you have communities that don’t have clean water and electricity, when families do not have access to quality healthcare and education.”

The phenomenon has a name—Dutch Disease—and Guyana exhibits classic symptoms. The sudden influx of resource wealth draws investment and labor away from other industries, making the economy less diversified and less competitive. Prices rise as demand increases, but productive capacity in non-oil sectors stagnates or declines. The result is an economy paradoxically characterized by both rapid growth and widespread hardship.

Dr. Blackman pointed to his early writings on this subject, noting that years ago he advocated prioritizing agricultural diversification. “Oil was the seed money to set ourselves up,” he explained. “It’s not the money to live on, but it’s the seed money to set ourselves up.” The vision was clear: use oil revenues to modernize agriculture, invest in value-added processing, develop manufacturing capacity, and create a diversified economic base that could sustain prosperity when oil revenues eventually decline.

Instead, he observed, Guyana appears to be racing to exploit all resources simultaneously—both oil and gold—without strategic planning for sustainable development. “We’re not in a rush,” he noted. “We’re not under pressure to make a deal. We don’t have to give that away.” Guyana’s leverage lies precisely in not being desperate, in maintaining the option to partner strategically rather than selling resources at bargain prices to the first bidder.

He pointed to four nations as models: Chile, Botswana, Canada, and Norway. Each managed resource wealth effectively through different mechanisms—sovereign wealth funds, equitable revenue distribution, environmental stewardship, long-term investment strategies—and Guyana should study these cases to adopt best practices suited to the local context.

Critical to this economic vision is what Dr. Blackman termed “value chain integration”—creating pathways for ordinary Guyanese to participate in the oil and gas industry beyond menial roles. Currently, FPSOs operate 150 miles offshore, invisible to most citizens, their sophisticated operations inaccessible to local workers. “We’re not even seeing it. We don’t know what’s going on,” he observed. The local content legislation represents a start, but a more systematic architecture is needed.

Dr. Blackman envisioned regional opportunity offices where citizens could learn how to connect with emerging industries, access capital, develop relevant skills, and launch businesses serving those sectors. “In each region, the people who are in that region ought to be able to come to some place and say, ‘How can I be connected to the oil and gas industry, and what are things that I can do?'” This requires not vague exhortations to “prepare for oil” but concrete programs: loans for equipment, skills training in specific trades, incubation for small businesses, connections to procurement opportunities.

He also emphasized infrastructure that enables economic participation: roads connecting hinterland to urban markets, reliable electricity for businesses, modern telecommunications, and crucially, educational institutions like a revitalized GTI producing skilled tradespeople. His father’s trajectory—from land surveyor in Guyana to nurse in the United States after attending nursing school at age fifty—exemplified how technical education transforms family trajectories across generations.

Yet infrastructure means more than economic utilities. Dr. Blackman recalled growing up in Festival City (North Ruimveldt) in the 1970s, where his community had a library, sports fields, and spaces where “teacher X will teach us Spanish, or teacher Y will teach us math.” His grandparents’ generation “built for us a place that they understood was necessary for the world in which we’re living.” Today’s leaders, he suggested, must do likewise: build libraries, sports facilities, community centers, and educational spaces that position the next generation for the world they will inherit.

The economic challenge, ultimately, is one of distribution and inclusion. Growth statistics mean little if wealth concentrates among a small elite while the majority struggles. President Ali’s announcement of a “comprehensive national economic expansion and infrastructure integration plan” over the next five years sounds promising. Still, implementation will determine whether this moment becomes transformative or merely another missed opportunity.

Democracy Under Strain

The conversation’s most pointed critique concerned governance and democratic accountability. Dr. Blackman began with a concrete example: the boarding up of Stabroek Market vendors’ spaces in late November, just as Christmas shopping season commenced. The incident, he suggested, epitomized governance failures that extend far beyond a single market.

“That lack of consultation is a function of what you’ve just described,” he told Weekes, referring to the host’s litany of democratic deficits. “It’s this lack of consultation in this instance of people being displaced. No one knows what the project is. It’s just being done.” In a functioning democracy, major projects affecting citizens’ livelihoods would involve consultation, transparent communication of plans, and timing sensitive to economic realities. Displacing vendors at Christmas without warning or alternative arrangements suggests contempt for both democratic process and the vendors’ economic survival.

The broader pattern concerns Dr. Blackman more. “The fact that you have a 36-seat majority does not mean that you can do anything you want,” he emphasized. Democracy requires more than electoral victory; it requires robust institutions that check executive power, civil society organizations that advocate for affected communities, and leaders who see themselves as stewards rather than rulers.

“You are not the ruler of Guyana,” he stated bluntly. “You are a steward of the Guyanese patrimony, on behalf of the Guyanese people.” Stewardship implies accountability, consultation, and transparency—values that appear increasingly absent.

He noted that institutions meant to provide checks and balances—judiciary, police, military, civil service—seem to be “falling into the same kind of groupthink,” assuming that government will determine outcomes regardless of institutional logic or legal constraints. When no institution feels empowered to say “No, you should not do it that way; here are the ways to do it,” democracy withers into majoritarianism.

The opposition’s failures compound the problem. The inability of APNU and other parties to form a cohesive coalition has left governance essentially unchecked. “What is necessary in a democracy is not just one votes more than the other,” Dr. Blackman observed, “but the building up of a set of institutions, the building up of the judiciary, the building up of civil society, the building up of the PTA, the building up of various boards, the Lions Club… all of those places need to have some respect, and all of those places need to have some autonomy.”

He described conversations with young people devastated by the coalition’s collapse, who asked: “I don’t understand how these guys could do this.” The message youth receive is corrosive: if elders cannot find common ground in pursuit of national interests, why should young people believe in collective action or democratic participation?

Dr. Blackman acknowledged that fatigue may afflict some citizens, but he rejected the notion that Guyanese have lost their voice. “I know too much of the resilience,” he stated, referencing his Pomeroon roots, where ancestors purchased land post-emancipation and endured generational struggles. Guyanese will ultimately find their voice. The challenge of finding the voice has to do with the question of leadership of that voice and a vision from the leadership that allows for people to participate in that vision with some clarity and some cohesion.”

The path forward requires leaders to transcend partisan advantage and ethnic tribalism, to convene inclusive dialogues, to value expertise over loyalty, and to build consensus around a long-term national vision. It requires, in short, a maturity and humility currently in short supply.

Existential Threats on the Horizon

The interview’s most urgent section addressed regional security, specifically the situation in Venezuela. Dr. Blackman’s assessment was stark: “This is a very challenging moment.” Significant U.S. military assets surround Venezuela, suggesting possible regime change operations. President Maduro has warned that he would strike Guyana and Trinidad if the U.S. attacks Venezuela from their territories. Commercial aircraft have been warned away from Venezuelan airspace. A bombing incident in Guyana remains unexplained. Yet the government continues “business as usual,” convening no stakeholder consultations, no parliamentary committee meetings, no national dialogue on preparedness.

“At minimum, one should expect that the Maduro government will not survive long, unless there is some deal that is made at the higher power level,” Dr. Blackman assessed, noting the multi-million-dollar daily costs of U.S. military operations. The question is whether regime change will be peaceful or require military action. If the latter, Guyana’s position becomes precarious.

The geopolitical complexity runs deep. Venezuela remains a strategic partner to Russia and China, which sources petroleum there. Will Russia and China surrender strategic assets because the U.S. deploys warships? Or might great powers negotiate grand bargains—perhaps Trump, Putin, and Xi agreeing to respective spheres of influence?

Dr. Blackman suggested a possible scenario: “Maybe Trump and Putin and Xi will agree that Xi gets to take Taiwan, Putin gets to take Ukraine, and Trump gets to take Venezuela.” While speculative, the point stands: Guyana sits at the intersection of great power competition, and its leaders show little evidence of grappling with implications.

He emphasized the stark arithmetic of sovereignty: “100% of zero is zero. If there’s no Guyana, there’s no place really, and then it’s a whole different ballgame.” Partisan political victories become meaningless if the nation’s territorial integrity is compromised. This reality should compel political opponents to transcend their divisions and prioritize national survival.

Dr. Blackman recommended immediate action: convene existing parliamentary and national security infrastructure to address the crisis. He also proposed establishing a standing Committee on Sovereignty, including military representatives, government and opposition members, academics, and geopolitical experts—a permanent think tank focused on Guyana-Venezuela border issues and broader security challenges.

He credited Amanza Walton-Desir with prescient advocacy on immigration architecture, noting that she had warned years ago about the need to document Venezuelan migrants, distinguish economic migrants from returning family members, and track population movements. Post-bombing, the government essentially adopted policies she had proposed, but belatedly and reactively rather than proactively.

“We need more people thinking,” Dr. Blackman insisted, criticizing the “I syndrome—I know it all, I know everything, no one else knows anything.” In a democratic society facing existential threats, diverse expertise becomes essential. The government must engage all voices that can contribute to solving problems, moving beyond political tribalism to genuine stewardship.

He also noted economic uncertainties: What happens to oil prices amid geopolitical instability? What if Venezuelan oil returns to the market at scale? What does this mean for Guyana’s revenue projections and the social programs they fund? These questions demand sophisticated analysis, not wishful thinking.

The Diaspora Dividend

Throughout the conversation, Dr. Blackman articulated a vision for diaspora engagement that transcends occasional remittances or passive observation. The Guyanese diaspora, he argued, represents a strategic asset insufficiently leveraged for national development.

He mapped diaspora expertise geographically: Atlanta hosts extensive business ownership and entrepreneurship; Houston offers oil and gas industry connections; Washington, D.C., provides access to trade policy and government influence; New York brings business, education, and finance expertise; the United Kingdom offers international connections. Each cluster possesses knowledge and networks directly relevant to Guyana’s development challenges.

His model draws from India, specifically the Harish Chandra Institute in Allahabad, where he spent three months in 2000. There, Indian academics from around the world convened annually, bringing high school and college students to engage with cutting-edge mathematics and physics. Students in India are thus connected directly to Princeton faculty, Australian researchers, and London professors—the global frontier of their disciplines.

The Queens College Summer Math Institute, which Dr. Blackman founded in 2015-16, attempts to replicate this model. Each summer, students from Queens College and other Georgetown schools engage not with rote CXC preparation but with conceptual mathematics that “begins to orient their mind to a world of learning that is beyond that.” The program continues through his former student, Dr. Cleveland Waddell, now a researcher at Sandia National Labs.

Technology enables this engagement. “We are having this conversation, mediated by Zoom,” Dr. Blackman noted, “and I should say, for those of you who doubt, the very idea of Zoom is mediated by mathematics.” Geographic distance need not prevent collaboration when video conferencing, shared documents, and real-time communication span continents instantaneously.

Yet he observed tensions between homeland and diaspora communities: “There’s a kind of tension that emerges between folks who are at home and folks who are in the diaspora, as to questions of value and who deserves a lot and so on.” This zero-sum thinking misses the opportunity. “The issue is, what are the ways in which we can leverage our collective expertise to move our communities forward?”

The vision is practical: Guyanese in Houston engage ExxonMobil on technical standards and employment practices; those in Washington advocate for favorable trade agreements; New York-based educators share curricula and pedagogical innovations; London contacts facilitate international partnerships. Meanwhile, academics worldwide contribute through virtual seminars, curriculum review, student mentorship, and policy analysis.

Dr. Blackman’s own trajectory exemplifies this model. From his position at Medgar Evers College, he founded the Guyana Business Journal, hosts weekly interviews with international experts on Guyana-relevant topics, conducts mathematics camps, reviews curricula, and contributes policy analysis—all while maintaining his academic career and family life in the United States. It demonstrates how diaspora members can make “substantive contributions to one’s hometown, in one’s home place, regardless of where you find yourself in the world.”

But he insists on one condition: expertise must be valued. “Expertise matters. It really does matter.” Hiring based on political loyalty or ethnic affinity rather than competence produces mediocrity across critical functions. When hospitals employ nurses from the 68% who failed mathematics exams, when they can’t distinguish a tenth from a hundredth, “it will cost you your life.”

The challenge for Guyanese leadership is cultivating humility—recognizing that no individual, party, or ethnic group possesses all necessary knowledge. “If someone understands how to do something, and I allow them to work with me in the capacity that moves us both forward,” Dr. Blackman reflected, “it’s no skin off my back.”

Addressing the Exxon in the Room

Host Andrew Weeks posed a question that has circulated in some political quarters: Does ExxonMobil employ Dr. Blackman to conduct public relations favorable to the company?

“I can say on the record unequivocally that I am not working for ExxonMobil,” Dr. Blackman responded. “I hope at some point that folks will understand that you can have discussions with anyone, and I’m perfectly happy to have discussions with ExxonMobil about ways in which we can move Guyana forward.”

He contextualized this willingness: ExxonMobil operates a campus in Houston where mathematicians conduct operations research. “I think Guyanese mathematicians ought to be a part of that,” he stated. Engaging with the company to create opportunities for Guyanese participation in sophisticated technical work serves national interests.

“We have to not have this fear of being tarred in this way,” he continued, characterizing the allegation as exemplifying a broader problem: “The ability to malign and characterize individuals whom folks don’t know but perhaps might have some political difference with, so that the critique becomes not a critique of substance but a critique of personal slander.”

He took the opportunity to clarify his position on parent company guarantees for oil spill liability—another area where critics have alleged he favors ExxonMobil’s interests over Guyana’s. “I think Guyana is entirely right to do everything in its power to ensure that it has the maximum possible assurances that, above and beyond whatever insurance ExxonMobil in Guyana has, they have some assurance from the ExxonMobil parent company that an oil spill will be covered.”

He recalled attending a conference years ago that examined technical aspects of oil spills, including how ocean currents would carry contamination across the Caribbean, potentially affecting islands as distant as Barbados. “If such a thing were to happen, it would be a genuine catastrophe, and certainly one would not expect the countries that are vulnerable to bear the cost.”

“This has never been contentious for me,” he emphasized. “It’s never been in any place that I’ve written something, and I’ve written hundreds of things in the public domain. So there is my position.”

The exchange highlighted the challenges facing public intellectuals in polarized environments. Substantive engagement with complex issues—acknowledging both opportunities and risks in oil development, recognizing that companies possess expertise even as they require strict accountability—becomes caricatured as collaboration with external interests. Yet development requires precisely this nuanced engagement, neither demonizing foreign investment nor uncritically accepting corporate priorities.

A Personal Journey

Dr. Blackman’s analysis carries authority partly because of his personal trajectory—a journey from Georgetown to MIT that embodies both individual achievement and systemic insight into how educational opportunity transforms lives.

Born in Georgetown with roots in Pomeroon and Lodge, he attended Central Primary School and Queens College before emigrating to New York for university. At Brooklyn College, he initially pursued a career on Wall Street, landing a stockbroker position after graduation. His life might have followed that lucrative path but for a summer tutoring job at Kingsborough Community College.

There, he worked with single mothers on public assistance, preparing them for admission to the nursing program. At summer’s end, one woman who failed the mathematics exam came to his office and “burst into tears,” asking, “Do I have to do this? Why do I have to do this? I can’t do this.”

“It struck me that here was something that should be done, an exam that was at the level of the ninth to twelfth grade, and this mathematics exam at the level of the ninth to twelfth grade was something that would determine the lives of many, the trajectory of the lives of many people in our community,” he recalled. “At that moment, I stopped thinking about math as a kind of trick that I knew how to do, and more as something that had to do with, broadly speaking, the advancement of a community.”

He left Wall Street, pursued a doctorate at the CUNY Graduate Center, and joined Medgar Evers College in the mid-to-late 1990s. “I’ve always thought I made the biggest mistake in my life not staying on Wall Street,” he joked, but his subsequent career suggests otherwise. He co-founded Medgar Evers’ undergraduate mathematics program, served three years as Dean of the School of Science, Health and Technology, held visiting positions at MIT and the Institute for Advanced Study, and taught thousands of students—many from Guyana—across three decades.

During the interview, he noted with evident pride, the building behind him that “used to be a garbage depot.” He served on committees shaping the transformation of the School of Science, Health, and Technology into a $250 million state-of-the-art facility that now anchors the corner of Bedford and Crown in Brooklyn. “I feel very connected to it because I spent time being part of committees that would help to shape what this looks like and the kind of education that folks receive in it, and that includes many young people from Guyana.”

His father’s story also informs his perspective. Terrence Blackman Sr. worked as a land surveyor in Guyana, attended GTI, and instilled in his son an appreciation for technical education’s transformative power. Upon emigrating to the United States at around age fifty, the senior Blackman returned to school and became a nurse. At his graduation, Dr. Blackman discovered that several of the graduating nursing students were his former mathematics students. “They looked at him, and they looked at me, and they said, ‘Terrence Blackman, I now know who you are talking to.'”

The anecdote illuminates multiple themes: education as a lifelong possibility, the interconnection of seemingly separate lives, the mathematics-to-nursing pipeline that determines healthcare workforce quality, and the gender dynamics of nursing (his father exemplified male participation in a female-dominated field).

Dr. Blackman’s athletic background also shaped his leadership philosophy. As an opening batsman of Queens College’s cricket team and captain of the basketball team, he learned that “team must come first before all of the people in it” and that leaders must “elicit from all the people the various skills.” Not everyone contributes identically, but all contributions matter. Individual brilliance cannot substitute for teamwork, especially when facing institutional opponents with vastly greater resources.

This sports metaphor recurred throughout the interview. Guyana’s development challenge is “not a T10 match, it’s a test match” requiring patience, strategy, and partnerships. When a player fails on the first ball, they cannot “pack up and go home.” When facing Exxon Mobil’s institutional power and resources, “no single Guyanese can do that, no single political party in Guyana can do that,” but “Guyana can do that, the Government of Guyana carrying out the will of the Guyanese people.”

The Moral Dimension

Undergirding Dr. Blackman’s policy critiques is a consistent moral framework. Repeatedly, he characterized Guyana’s failures not merely as inefficiencies or suboptimal outcomes but as moral failures in a nation where majorities profess religious faith.

“In a country where people profess religious beliefs—Christianity, Hinduism, Islam—these are moral failures,” he stated regarding child poverty amid oil wealth. “It is a moral failure when you have billions of dollars coming into a government’s coffers and then children are going hungry.”

This framing elevates policy debates beyond cost-benefit calculations to questions of fundamental values. What does it mean to claim religious faith while tolerating preventable suffering? What does it mean to celebrate GDP growth while half the population languishes in poverty? What does it mean to invest in prestige projects while 68% of students fail mathematics exams that determine their life trajectories?

He located this moral imperative historically, referencing ancestors who “bought the lands in the Pomeroon” post-emancipation, who endured “licks in the slavery time,” who built Festival City with libraries and sports fields for their children’s benefit. “They built for us a place that they understood was necessary for the world in which we’re living. And I think that’s part of what we have to do within the context of our current economic and educational infrastructure.”

The moral test, ultimately, is intergenerational: “Our children will look back and make the judgment about what we have done and whether or not we’ve done it, and one prays that they will find us not wanting.” Current leaders hold in trust resources and opportunities unprecedented in Guyanese history. How they steward this inheritance—whether they build foundations for sustainable prosperity or squander a one-time windfall—will determine their moral legacy.

Dr. Blackman also invoked reciprocity norms embedded in traditional leadership. “We give them privileges in the community so that when times get rough, they’re supposed to stand up and defend the community. Unfortunately, what we found is that when times have gotten rough, they’ve turned around and decimated the community themselves.”

This betrayal of communal expectations—taking privileges while shirking responsibilities—explains why many citizens feel abandoned by leaders who were supposed to protect collective interests. Restoring trust requires leaders who genuinely embody stewardship, who see authority as an obligation rather than an entitlement, and who value collective welfare over personal enrichment.

The Third Founding

Dr. Blackman concluded by returning to David Hinds’ concept of Guyana’s “third founding moment.” Just as emancipation marked a first founding and independence constituted a second, the presence of oil wealth creates an opportunity to “make real the promise of Guyana.”

But founding moments are not guaranteed successes. They represent potential—potential that can be realized through wisdom, unity, and long-term vision, or squandered through shortsightedness, division, and greed. Which path Guyana takes remains undetermined.

The interview illuminated interconnections among challenges that might appear separate: educational failure produces citizens unable to participate in an emerging economy; economic mismanagement produces poverty amid wealth; governance deficits produce policy incoherence; opposition fragmentation removes democratic accountability; security threats exploit national disunity. These are not isolated problems but facets of a systemic crisis in national leadership and vision.

Yet Dr. Blackman’s analysis, while unflinching in critique, ultimately expresses faith in Guyanese resilience. “I know too much of the resilience… I’ve seen my father and mother and my grandfathers and grandmothers, and growing up in Lodge, Alexander Village, North Ruimveldt, and learning how to live.” He believes Guyanese will find their voice, though they need leadership providing a coherent vision around which to coalesce.

His own work—the Guyana Business Journal, the mathematics camps, the policy analysis, the stakeholder engagement—models how diaspora members can contribute substantively. By bringing international expertise to bear on local challenges, by facilitating conversations among experts across disciplines, and by documenting best practices and articulating alternatives to current policy, intellectuals can serve as resources for communities grappling with complex development challenges.

The conversation ended with host and guest exchanging holiday greetings, but the substantive message lingered: Guyana stands at a critical juncture. The decisions made now—about education, economic management, governance, security, diaspora engagement—will reverberate for generations. Current leaders hold extraordinary responsibility and extraordinary opportunity. Whether they prove equal to this moment will be judged not by contemporary partisan scorekeeping but by the world their children inherit.

As Dr. Blackman stated in his closing: “Our children will look back and make the judgment about what we have done and whether or not we’ve done it, and one prays that they will find us not wanting.” For Guyana’s sake, for the sake of those 68% of students currently failing mathematics exams, for the sake of families struggling on less than $5.50 daily amid unprecedented national wealth, for the sake of a nation’s sovereignty in an increasingly dangerous regional environment—one indeed prays the same.

Please see the entire interview here.

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Dr. Terrence Blackman is Professor and Chair of the Department of Mathematics at Medgar Evers College, City University of New York, and founder of the Guyana Business Journal. He holds a PhD in Mathematics from the CUNY Graduate Center and has held distinguished positions at MIT (as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Visiting Professor) and the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton. His research focuses on number theory, quaternion algebras, and quantum computing applications, with particular emphasis on broadening participation in the mathematical sciences. Recognized by The HistoryMakers in 2023, he continues to bridge academic mathematics and community development through educational initiatives in New York and Guyana.

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Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.

 

 

 

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Democracy is not just a constitutional arrangement. It is, at its core, an information system—a way a nation organizes truth, power, dissent, and correction. Recent scholarship reminds us that democracies thrive when information flows freely across many independent channels, and falter when power concentrates in a single node [1]. That insight is strikingly relevant to present-day Guyana, a society navigating the unprecedented pressures of oil wealth, geopolitical interest, and internal political polarization. We often speak of Guyana as an “emerging petrostate.” Still, the deeper question is whether it will be a democratic petrostate—whether our information networks, institutions, and public spheres will remain open, distributed, and self-correcting, or whether rapid centralization of economic and political power will push us toward something more brittle. This moment demands clarity about what democracy is—and what it is not.

Democratic theory teaches us that dictatorships are characterized not simply by autocracy but by centralized information processing. In such systems, information flows to a central core where the most critical decisions are made. History provides numerous examples of this model, from the Roman Empire, where all roads led to Rome, to Nazi Germany with its information hub in Berlin, and the Soviet Union with Moscow at its center. The central government in a dictatorship often attempts to concentrate all information in its hands, dictating all decisions and controlling the totality of people’s lives. This extreme form of dictatorship, as practiced by leaders like Hitler and Stalin, is known as totalitarianism. In many resource-rich states, this centralization is accelerated by the political economy of oil: a single wellspring of revenue, a small circle of decision-makers, and an expanding network of stakeholders incentivized to protect the center at all costs [2]. Guyana is not a dictatorship, but we are undeniably experiencing a gravitational pull toward informational centralization. In a small country where oil revenues, foreign investments, consultant-driven policy, and political patronage converge, the center of decision-making grows more powerful—not necessarily because of ill intent, but because scale, capacity, and momentum push us there. The challenge, then, is not to demonize central authority but to ensure that the surrounding network—press, academia, political parties, civil society, diaspora voices, local government, and independent institutions—remains strong, diverse, and capable of friction. Democracy is noisy, but noise is the sound of many voices resisting the simplicity of a single narrative.

This leads to a crucial warning from political science: democracies decay when their self-correcting mechanisms—the judiciary, an independent press, a robust opposition, and public oversight institutions—are hobbled, attacked, or made irrelevant [3]. This is a clear caution for Guyana, where public trust in institutions remains fragile across ethnic, political, and generational lines. Self-correction is not a political luxury; it is democratic oxygen. In Guyana today, the pressure to move “fast” in oil development can sometimes frame oversight, inquiry, dissent, or judicial challenge as obstacles rather than essential functions. Historical examples from other nations remind us that democracies stumble not from malice but from overconfidence—when leaders and citizens forget that error, not ill intent, is the most common cause of institutional collapse. The question for Guyana is whether we will build institutions capable of correcting power, or ones that merely confirm it.

Furthermore, democratic theory rests on the assumption of universal fallibility: no person, party, or government is always right. For Guyana—riven by decades of ethnicized politics—this truth is particularly relevant. Our political culture still struggles with the belief that “our side” is virtuous and “the other side” is existentially dangerous. This mindset undermines democracy because it blocks the very self-correcting mechanisms political scientists identify as essential: when political disagreement is framed as treachery, learning becomes impossible. The insight that democracy is a “distributed conversation” resonates powerfully in a country where social media outrage frequently substitutes for dialogue, and where political narratives can harden into echo chambers. But democracy is not a performance of unity—it is a practice of listening. Guyana’s challenge is to cultivate public spheres—formal and informal—where citizens can disagree without delegitimizing each other’s right to participate. This is the civic work of democracy, as important as voting or constitutional reform.

Guyana’s young oil economy, expanding geopolitical importance, and rapid social transformation make it easy to overlook a core vulnerability: democracies are fragile precisely because they depend on voluntary restraint. The majority cannot simply vote away the rights of the minority. The government cannot use its popularity as a justification for attacking critics. And citizens cannot promote political victory at the expense of institutional strength. In Guyana, the battle over information—truth, propaganda, expertise, rumor, and counterclaim—is intensifying. The observation that “democracy is a conversation, and sometimes a noisy one” is especially apt for a moment when voices from Linden to Lethem, Georgetown to the diaspora, and youth activists to oil economists all jostle to define the national trajectory. This is not a weakness. It is democracy functioning as it should.

Democratic survival, therefore, requires vigilance—an insistence that democratic systems endure only through the active, informed participation of their citizens. For Guyana, this means building the infrastructure of a distributed democracy. It involves strengthening investigative journalism and academic independence, ensuring that independent voices have the resources and protection to ask difficult questions without fear of retaliation or economic pressure. It requires reinforcing the judiciary as a neutral arbiter, insulated from political interference and adequately resourced to handle the complex legal challenges that oil wealth inevitably brings. This path forward also demands elevating civil society and local government as substantive, not ceremonial, actors, so that communities from Bartica to Berbice have a genuine voice in decisions that affect their lives and livelihoods. It means ensuring that oil oversight bodies like the Natural Resource Fund, along with procurement processes and environmental monitoring, operate under sustained public scrutiny. A functioning democracy also needs an opposition capable of constructive accountability, one that can effectively challenge government decisions while offering credible alternatives. Finally, it is crucial to nurture a civic commons where Guyanese across divides can reason together in spaces—physical and virtual—dedicated to good-faith debate rather than tribal combat. Guyana cannot outsource this work to Exxon, politicians, donors, or the diaspora. Democracy survives only when citizens insist on it.

In the end, democratic theory offers a framework for understanding democracy not as sentiment or slogan but as architecture: a network configuration that either distributes or concentrates information and power. Guyana stands at a historical threshold where billions in oil revenues, accelerating global attention, and domestic political uncertainty create both an extraordinary opportunity and a profound risk. Whether Guyana becomes a flourishing democracy or a frustrated petrostate will depend less on who wins elections and more on whether we protect and expand the distributed, self-correcting networks that make democratic life possible. Our task—citizens, institutions, and leaders alike—is to keep the national conversation open, vibrant, contested, and honest. That is how democracies survive. That is how nations grow. The stakes could not be higher. The choice is ours to make.

The Guyana Business Journal Sunday Essay appears weekly, offering analysis at the intersection of economics, politics, and society.

References

[1] Benkler, Y. (2006). The Wealth of Networks: How Social Production Transforms Markets and Freedom. Yale University Press.

[2] Ross, M. L. (2012). The Oil Curse: How Petroleum Wealth Shapes the Development of Nations. Princeton University Press.

[3] Levitsky, S., & Ziblatt, D. (2018). How Democracies Die. Crown.

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Terrence Blackman is Professor and Chair of the Department of Mathematics at Medgar Evers College, CUNY, and a frequent contributor to the Guyana Business Journal on matters of politics, economics, and social development.

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Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.

 

 

 

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References

[1] News Room Guyana. (2025, November 12). FGM must pay $4 million in Court-ordered costs by Nov. 14 – Nandlall reminds. https://newsroom.gy/2025/11/12/fgm-must-pay-4-million-in-court-ordered-costs-by-nov-14-nandlall-reminds/

[2] Ram, C. (2025, September 3). Costs in this case risk closing doors of constitutional and administrative justice to all but the wealthy. ChrisRam.net. https://www.chrisram.net/?p=2909

Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.

 

 

 

On this day of gratitude, we pause to reflect on the gifts that strengthen us as individuals, bind us as families, and uplift us as a community. Research continues to affirm what our own lived experience has long taught us: gratitude is transformative. It nurtures resilience and clarity in each of us, grounding us in what is good and sustaining even in challenging times. It enriches family life by deepening trust, softening conflict, and cultivating the emotional warmth that allows our households to flourish. And it strengthens our national and diasporic community by encouraging cooperation, fostering generosity, and reminding us of the interdependence that defines who we are as Guyanese.

In moments when the world feels divided, gratitude invites us back to what connects us. It calls us to honor the people who support us, the opportunities we have been given, and the responsibilities we share. It reminds us that progress—whether personal, familial, or national—is a collective endeavor shaped by kindness, recognition, and shared purpose.

Today, we express heartfelt thanks to our readers, contributors, partners, and the global Guyanese family. Your engagement sustains our mission to inform, uplift, and help craft a more prosperous and equitable future for Guyana. May gratitude continue to guide our work and our relationships, and may this season bring peace, renewal, and hope to all.

Happy Thanksgiving from the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine.

Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.

 

 

 

The oil era has placed before us a moment of renewal—an opportunity to channel our new resources wisely and to cultivate a stronger, more unified sense of national identity.

We now have the chance to write a shared national story that is large enough to hold all of us.

For generations, our story was shaped by the narrative of “the two houses”—African and Indian—two communities forged in different historical crucibles, yet sharing the same land. Now, we can move beyond this inherited story to one we choose for ourselves.

Our founders gave us the perfect story to grow into, one captured in the powerful words of our national motto: One People, One Nation, One Destiny. The opportunity before us is to finally build the collective imagination necessary to make this promise real. It remains our moral compass, guiding us toward a more unified future.

To understand this promise, we return to our first shared truth, a story that begins not with oil rigs or political rallies, but with water. Long before flags and parties, the land itself shaped us. Great rivers carved paths through a vast, green canvas, and on their currents, our ancestors arrived. Some came in canoes, navigating the ancient arteries of the land. Others were brought in the suffocating holds of slave ships, shackled and stolen from Africa to toil under the most brutal of conditions [1]. When their chains were broken, a new kind of ship arrived, carrying indentured laborers from India who traded one form of hardship for another in a quest for survival [2]. In their wake came others—Portuguese, Chinese, and more—each carrying their own dreams. This is our foundational story: nobody began as Guyanese. We all crossed water to become so. If One People means anything, it starts here: with a nation of crossings, of blended resilience and layered traditions, of cultures that flourished because our ancestors refused to be extinguished.

After Independence, the old logic of division was challenged by the new ideal of a united country. While our politics sometimes struggled to keep pace with our aspirations, the motto stood above it all as a beautiful promise we could strive to inhabit. The vision of One Nation remained our guiding star, even when the journey was arduous [3].

 Now, the river of history has brought us to a dramatic and hopeful fork. The discovery of vast oil reserves beneath the Atlantic is a moment of destiny. The sheer scale of this transformation is difficult to comprehend. With over US$60 billion invested in the Stabroek Block, Guyana’s daily oil production has already surged to 900,000 barrels and is projected to reach a staggering 1.7 million barrels per day by 2030 [4]. This is not merely an economic shift; it is a geological event reshaping our society. When managed wisely, this wealth will give us the tools to write a new national narrative worthy of our motto. This is our moment to ensure that “One People, One Nation, One Destiny” becomes the living framework for a new Guyanese imagination.

To give the motto new life, we must embrace a story that moves us beyond the two houses while celebrating every part of our unique identity and honoring our historical journey. This is the story of the Guyanese Commonwealth, a civic space where every Guyanese has a door, a voice, and a stake. In this commonwealth, the motto is not a slogan, but a set of principles. One People means that belonging is unearned and unconditional. One Nation means that no group must lose for the country to win. One Destiny means that the child born poorest still receives the richest opportunities. This idea does not dissolve our cultural differences; it protects them by placing them inside a bigger room where fairness, dignity, and shared purpose are the foundation.

This is what the Brazilian writer João Guimarães Rosa called the “third bank of the river”—a place not on one side or the other, but in the middle, guiding the current. This third bank is where the motto comes alive. It is a commitment to truth before tribe, to fairness before favoritism, and to future generations before party victory. In a multi-ethnic state with sudden oil wealth, national unity is best fueled by a forward-looking vision. It must be built on civic ethics that the entire society can recognize as fair [8].

To turn this vision into practice, we can rally around clear principles that the ordinary Guyanese—the minibus driver, the teacher, the small business owner—can understand and believe in. This begins with a commitment to fairness first, where people embrace decisions because they know the rules apply to everyone. It is the profound understanding that every child is “we child,” and that the future we want is built on equal opportunity for all. This unity is strengthened by putting truth before tribe, fostering honesty and mutual respect. It means we learn to respect the work, celebrating merit and dedication by rewarding people for their effort and contribution. Ultimately, it is about a collective commitment to care for the yard, recognizing that a country united in purpose is the only way to build a truly shared destiny.

These principles are how the motto becomes something we live, not just something we recite. Guyana’s founders chose these words because they believed the country could grow into them. They knew that with a unifying narrative, our diversity becomes our greatest strength. Today, we stand on the edge of extraordinary prosperity, and we know that this prosperity, guided by a shared story, will lift us all. By reclaiming the river that carried all of us here, we can transform our motto from a historical inheritance into a guiding purpose. The rivers that shaped our past can now shape our future. By choosing wisely, they will carry all of us—together—toward the destiny our founders dared to imagine.

 References

[1] Britannica. (2025, November 9). Guyana – Colonialism, Independence, Culture. Retrieved from https://www.britannica.com/place/Guyana/History

[2] Guyana Chronicle. (2014, May 5). EAST INDIAN IMMIGRATION (1838-1917). Retrieved from https://guyanachronicle.com/2014/05/05/east-indian-immigration-1838-1917/

[3] ROAPE. (2022, May 5). A difficult return – race, class, and politics in Rodney’s Guyana. Retrieved from https://roape.net/2022/05/05/a-difficult-return-race-class-and-politics-in-rodneys-guyana/

[4] OilNOW. (2025, November 12). Exxon hits 900,000 barrels of oil per day in Guyana as Yellowtail reaches full capacity. Retrieved from https://oilnow.gy/featured/exxon-hits-900000-barrels-of-oil-per-day-in-guyana-as-yellowtail-reaches-full-capacity/

[5] Wikipedia. (n.d.). Economy of Guyana. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Economy_of_Guyana

[6] Reuters. (2025, January 17). Oil output, exports drove Guyana economy’s growth of 43.6% in 2024. Retrieved from https://www.reuters.com/business/energy/oil-output-exports-drove-guyana-economys-growth-436-2024-2025-01-17/

[7] The Economist Intelligence Unit. (n.d.). Democracy Index. Retrieved from https://www.eiu.com/n/campaigns/democracy-index-2023/

[8] U.S. Department of State. (2025). 2025 Investment Climate Statements: Guyana. Retrieved from https://www.state.gov/reports/2025-investment-climate-statements/guyana

[9] Guyana Chronicle. (2025, February 22). Beyond ethnic divides: Guyana’s path to true social cohesion. Retrieved from https://guyanachronicle.com/2025/02/22/beyond-ethnic-divides-guyanas-path-to-true-social-cohesion/

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Terrence Blackman is Professor and Chair of the Department of Mathematics at Medgar Evers College, CUNY, and a frequent contributor to the Guyana Business Journal on matters of politics, economics, and social development.

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Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.

 

 

 

From Corruption to Meritocracy: A Conversation with Dr. Terrence Campbell

By Professor Terrence Blackman, Founder, Guyana Business Journal

When I sat down with Dr. Terrence Campbell, Member of Parliament and Leader of the APNU’s parliamentary delegation, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew the outlines of his story—his years in business, his recent turn to front-line politics, and the devastating election that left the APNU with only 12 seats. But I wanted to understand something deeper: what animates his engagement? What sits beneath the public statements about service and country?

After nearly an hour of conversation, that question was answered with surprising clarity. What emerged was the portrait of a man whose political convictions trace back almost four decades, hardened by the discipline of business and now expressed through a demanding, almost relentless, commitment to grassroots political work.

Campbell began in 1988, at 24, as he transitioned from insurance management into entrepreneurship. Guyana at that time—much like today—was saturated with corruption: customs evasions, under-the-table arrangements, a parallel economy that rewarded those willing to skirt the law. Yet he had been shaped by a very different professional culture at Hand-in-Hand under General Manager Walter Spooner, a man he still speaks with today. “We dotted the i’s, crossed the t’s, did everything by the book—and we made a profit.” That lesson became foundational. “You can do everything by the book and still make a dollar.”

It was not idealism. It was a business conclusion. But as he built his enterprises, the corruption he rejected only intensified. And he began to see its consequences clearly: Guyana’s most qualified professionals—those with certifications, degrees, and expertise—were leaving because honesty could not compete with illegality. “Success in Guyana belongs not to the professional class,” Campbell said, “but to the class that is willing to take risks with the rule of law.” That dissonance pushes people away. “Most professionals don’t want to participate in corruption, but they see the widening gap between their circumstances and those of the corrupt elite.” The result is predictable and devastating: emigration of talent.

Campbell offered a striking framework for Guyana’s social reality—three 50% figures: nearly half the population in poverty, half the nation’s youth dropping out of high school, and half of our young people struggling with basic self-esteem. These are not random statistics; they represent the systemic consequences of institutional failure. As he walks the streets during the APNU’s post-election listening tour, he meets young people who “don’t even see themselves” as capable citizens. “Every young person should see themselves as capable of being the president of Guyana,” he insisted, “but many have zero self-esteem.” It reminded me of Karen Abrams of STEM Guyana, and her conviction that Guyana needs elite opportunities for every child, not only for the privileged few. Campbell agreed readily: “Equity in education, health, and economics—these are the great levelers.”

Campbell’s account of Guyana’s much-touted oil economy was sobering. While GDP headlines celebrate growth, the communities he visits tell a different story. “This oil economy is crushing thousands of Guyanese,” he said plainly. He described visiting Plaisance and hearing from residents who felt abandoned. And then came the detail that stayed with me: “I saw weight challenges. Not from too much steak and lobster, but from diets of pure calories—nothing else.” Malnutrition in an oil-rich state.

Even more troubling was a young man who said to him, “I don’t feel we can run this country.” Campbell sees a generation beaten down by a system that has failed them so thoroughly that they cannot imagine themselves as leaders. That should alarm all of us.

After the election, Campbell approached the party’s recovery like an entrepreneur. “The voters are customers,” he explained. “They’ve stopped coming to my store. I want to know why.” The APNU has chosen intensive qualitative engagement—daily outreach, written reports after every session, systematic listening, and we can still see themes emerging.” About fifty outreach events later, the themes are consistent across communities, he said.

The pace has been punishing. His smartwatch’s “body battery” has not climbed above 50% for weeks. “I go to bed tired, and I wake up tired.” I urged him to take care of himself; he shrugged it off with characteristic focus. The work continues.

I asked how a 12-seat opposition can matter against a 36-seat majority. His answer was firm: by being aggressive and thorough. The APNU has advanced more motions, questions, and bills than any previous small opposition bloc, covering national security, local government, GOAL scholarships, biometrics, agriculture, and the Natural Resource Fund. “We will use Parliament to hold the government accountable and to communicate with the people.”

But Campbell also wants cultural change. Too many parliamentarians “go to Parliament and go home.” His goal is to reverse that pattern among APNU MPs. “That’s the only way to win an election.”

A question during the livestream asked about unity among opposition parties. Campbell didn’t pretend this was easy. The APNU, WIN, and Forward Guyana Movement each have leadership ambitions. “Let’s be practical,” he said. “There will be areas of cooperation and areas where each party advances its interests.” But he sees opportunity not only among those who voted against the PPP, but among those who did not vote at all because of the five issues emerging from the listening tour. “Everywhere we go, people say, ‘We’ll give you guys a chance.’ We are determined to rout the PPP by 2030.”

Our discussion of the Natural Resource Fund was one of the most substantive policy conversations I’ve had with a Guyanese politician. Campbell argues that the NRF must support economic stabilization, intergenerational equity, and infrastructure development. He has introduced an NRF bill, despite public cynicism about opposition bills from a 12-seat party. “We must examine legislation on its merits,” he said. “Not reject it because of the messenger.” He pointed to bipartisan cooperation in the U.S. as a model for Guyana’s political maturation.

Campbell sees infrastructure investment as essential—and as benefiting the poor. He spoke vividly about dilapidated inner-city housing that should be rebuilt entirely. Oil funds, he argued, ease pressure on tax revenues, allowing those revenues to support social programs and cash transfers. Above all, he insists on complete transparency. “Oil is non-renewable. Maybe we have 25 years. We must be wise.” At minimum, the public must see exactly how the wealth is being used.

We revisited an analysis the GBJ conducted during the election cycle using a simple metric: which party’s manifesto would reduce poverty for the most people in the shortest time? By that measure, the APNU’s plan ranked highest. I asked whether that remains part of Campbell’s vision. “Absolutely.” The limitation, as he noted, is constitutional—opposition parties cannot introduce bills that place a charge on the Consolidated Fund. But the commitment remains.

Campbell’s focus on entrepreneurship was compelling. He distinguished between “opportunistic entrepreneurs” and “necessity entrepreneurs”—the latter being those who start micro-businesses to survive. They need upskilling and access to financing. He told the story of a Miami supplier—no formal training, but deep technical knowledge—who built an $8 million annual business. “He used the skill he had to remove himself from poverty.”

Then Campbell’s tone shifted. He criticized performative inner-city engagement—“the latest designer shades”—and insisted that the work must come from genuine concern. “What you see has to impact you inside and drive a commitment to help people move out of their circumstances.”

The APNU manifesto included thoughtful proposals: a junior stock exchange with tax exemptions, stipends for vocational trainees, and programs designed to help entrepreneurs scale without surrendering ownership. And Campbell’s commitment to these initiatives is rooted in personal history. Born in poverty in Mahdia in 1964, his own trajectory fuels his belief that structured opportunities must exist for others. “If I ever became president, the Ministry of Human Services would be doubled or tripled.” It was a striking admission—and a declaration of values.

As we spoke about the national vision, he offered a vivid memory from Singapore. He jaywalked at a crossing while thirty others waited; when he looked back, everyone was staring at him in disbelief. It was, he said, the last time he jaywalked in Singapore. He wants a Guyana with that level of respect for the rule of law—not only at traffic lights, but in governance, business, and national life. And he articulated a vision that resonated deeply with me: a Guyana where those who leave for advanced study return immediately because institutions work, opportunities are real, and merit matters.

Reflecting on our conversation, I was struck by several things: the through-line from Campbell’s 1988 decision to pursue ethical business practices; his understanding that Guyana’s crisis is institutional as much as economic; his willingness to confront psychological harm among marginalized youth; the systematic rigor he brings to political rebuilding; his insight into the corrosive effects of corruption; and his detailed thinking on the Natural Resource Fund and entrepreneurship.

His Singapore anecdote distilled his vision: a lawful, equitable, meritocratic society capable of attracting and retaining its brightest minds. Whether that vision takes root will depend on the road ahead—on whether the APNU can rebuild, whether the PNC can adapt, whether opposition parties can find productive alignment, and whether the Guyanese political class can embrace the maturity our moment demands.

Whether Campbell’s vision becomes a national trajectory or remains a solitary call will be determined in the years ahead. But the conversation offered something Guyana urgently needs: depth, seriousness, and a focus on institutional reform over transactional politics—a Guyana where the rule of law prevails, where institutions function, where integrity is not a liability.

That is the Guyana worth returning to. That is the Guyana worth building. And that is why conversations like this matter. Through “Transforming Guyana: New Voices, New Visions,” we aim to create a space where these questions are confronted honestly—where clarity, critique, and hope coexist. The work continues, and so does the conversation.

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This conversation was part of the “Transforming Guyana: New Voices, New Visions” series. For more analysis of Guyana’s economic and political development, visit the Guyana Business Journal.

About This Profile

This profile is part of the “Transforming Guyana: New Voices, New Visions” series, produced by the Guyana Business Journal. The series highlights emerging leaders, professionals, and innovators who are shaping Guyana’s future during this unprecedented period of economic transformation.

The profile is based on an interview conducted by Dr. Terrence Richard Blackman, Chair and Professor of Mathematics at Medgar Evers College, City University of New York, and Founder of the Guyana Business Journal.

Contact Information

Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Support Independent Analysis

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

 

 

 

Setting: An opulent, timeless lounge. Gilded chairs sit on plush red carpet under a crystal chandelier. Two men, starkly different in dress and demeanor, face each other. LINDEN FORBES SAMPSON BURNHAM, immaculate in a tailored suit, sips slowly from a glass of Demerara rum. DONALD J. TRUMP, in his signature dark suit and red tie, leans forward, a Diet Coke untouched on the table beside him.

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TRUMP: So, Burnham. They called you the “Comrade Leader.” Sad. Very sad. I’m hearing tremendous things about your country now. Tremendous. They’ve got the oil, you know. Lots of it. A great American company, Exxon—the best, really—doing a fantastic job there. Making your country very, very rich. You never made it rich. Why not?

BURNHAM: (A slow, condescending smile plays on his lips. He takes a deliberate sip of rum before answering, his voice a smooth, articulate baritone.) Mr. Trump. One must first define “rich.” If by “rich” you mean a state of affairs where a foreign multinational extracts your nation’s patrimony while your government subsidizes the extraction through tax concessions, then yes—by that definition, we were never so “rich.” We chose a different path. The path of sovereignty. The path of the Cooperative Republic. A concept I suspect is as foreign to you as fiscal discipline.

TRUMP: Wrong. Wrong. I know all about cooperatives. Like a condo board. Lots of losers who can’t make a decision. You had your chance. You went with the socialists, the communists. Castro, the Sandinistas… all losers. I dealt with them. The “Troika of Tyranny,” my people called it. Great name. Very catchy. We put the screws to them. Venezuela, Cuba. We were very tough. Your new guys, they get it. They know who their friends are. They’re with us against Maduro. Smart.

BURNHAM: (He chuckles, a dry, academic sound.) You see, you mistake alignment for subservience. We stood with the Non-Aligned Movement. We stood with two-thirds of the world’s people against the imperialist machinations of both East and West. We championed the principle of non-interference. The government in Georgetown now invites the very fox that circles the henhouse to stand guard. They have traded sovereignty for a temporary security guarantee against a neighbor you’ve spent years provoking. It is a Faustian bargain.

TRUMP: A Faustian bargain? They’re going to be rich! It’s a deal! You nationalized the bauxite, right? Took it from the Americans and the Canadians. How did that work out for you? Your economy went down the drain. Sad. Per capita income of $380. I saw the numbers. My guys, they do the best numbers. You had nothing. Now they’ve got a deal with Exxon. A great deal. They get billions. We get billions. Everybody’s happy. That’s a good deal. They’re finally winning because they found the oil. They’re smart to work with us.

BURNHAM: (He sets down his glass with deliberate care.) “Found the oil.” As if discovery were achievement. As if geology were merit. Let us be clear, Mr. Trump: oil wealth is an accident—an accident of birth, of geography, of tectonic forces millions of years in the making. No government “earned” it. No leader can claim credit for what nature deposited beneath the seabed. The current administration did not work for this wealth any more than I could have worked to create it. They simply had the fortune of timing and technology.

TRUMP: So what? You take what you can get. That’s business. That’s life. They got lucky. Great. Now they’re making the right moves, working with the right people—

BURNHAM: (Interrupting, his voice sharpening.) No, Mr. Trump. Luck imposes responsibility. When wealth falls from the sky—or rises from beneath the sea—the government becomes a steward, not an owner. A trustee for generations yet unborn. The question is not “How do we extract maximum profit?” but rather “How do we ensure every citizen—every single Guyanese, from the Rupununi to the coastland—benefits from this accident of geography?” The oil belongs to the people. All the people. Not to a political class. Not to foreign shareholders. Not to a new elite driving Land Cruisers through Georgetown while the interior remains in darkness.

TRUMP: But that’s what they’re doing! They’re building roads, schools, hospitals. I’ve seen the plans. Beautiful plans. The money is flowing. That’s what you couldn’t do. You had the bauxite, the sugar, the rice—you had stuff—but you couldn’t make it work. Now they’ve got real money coming in, and they’re spending it. Smart.

BURNHAM: A road built with oil money is no more virtuous than a road built with bauxite revenue. The question is: who decided where that road goes? Who benefits? Is it the small farmer in Berbice? The Amerindian community in Region Nine? Or is it the contractor connected to the ruling party? When the oil runs dry—and it will run dry, Mr. Trump, perhaps in your grandson’s lifetime—what will remain? A Sovereign Wealth Fund drained by political expediency? Infrastructure that served only the coast? Or will there be schools that produced a generation of engineers? Hospitals that ensured a healthy population? A diversified economy that no longer depends on the accident of geology?

TRUMP: You’re overthinking it. It’s simple. You make the deals. You build the projects. You create jobs. The economy grows. People are happy. That’s what’s happening now. They’re not making your mistakes. They’re working with us, with Exxon, with the best companies. They’re being smart.

BURNHAM: (Leaning forward, his voice taking on a professorial tone.) Tell me, Mr. Trump: when Exxon’s contract was signed, did every Guyanese benefit equally from that signature? Or did a handful of negotiators make decisions that will reverberate for fifty years, decisions made behind closed doors, with terms that favor extraction over transformation? You speak of growth. I speak of distribution. Of equity. Of inclusion. This is not wealth that was earned through innovation or labor. It is a geological lottery win. And a lottery win demands that the winners—all eighty million barrels worth of winners—share the prize with those who had no hand in buying the ticket. That is the sacred duty of stewardship.

TRUMP: Sacred duty? Come on. People want jobs. They want money in their pockets. They want to feed their families. That’s what they’re getting. You’re talking like a professor. Nobody cares about your theories when they’re standing in a bread line.

BURNHAM: (His eyes narrow, the smile vanishing.) And you believe your system ensures they won’t stand in that line again? I read the projections from 2025. Over half my people will still live in poverty, even as the oil flows. Poverty amidst plenty—the oldest scandal in the colonial playbook. The wealth is not reaching the small man. It is creating a new class of comprador elites, beholden to foreign capital. This is precisely what we fought against. You speak of my methods, yet you embrace authoritarians who serve your interests. The hypocrisy is breathtaking.

(He stands, refilling his glass.)

We wielded state power to build a nation on the resources we had—bauxite, sugar, the labor of our people. Yes, we made mistakes. Yes, the pressure from your government, from international capital, from internal divisions, overwhelmed us at times. But we understood something fundamental: the state exists to ensure that the accident of geography benefits the many, not the few. When you nationalized nothing, when you controlled nothing, you could not be a steward. You could only be a client.

TRUMP: But you couldn’t do it! You couldn’t feed them. You couldn’t house them. It was a disaster. People were lining up for bread. I heard about it. A total disaster. And you rigged the elections! My people told me. You were no different from the guys I was fighting. A strongman. I respect strongmen, you know. Some of them are very fine people. But you have to deliver. You didn’t deliver.

BURNHAM: (His voice drops, cold and precise.) We delivered sovereignty. We delivered the principle that our resources belonged to us. We delivered the idea that an accident of birth—being born on land that contains wealth—creates an obligation to share that wealth. Did we succeed in everything? No. But we tried to be stewards, not auctioneers. The government today auctions the patrimony to the highest bidder and calls it progress. They confuse the presence of oil revenue with the purpose of governance. Revenue is not the goal. Inclusive development is. A rising tide that lifts all boats, not a flood that drowns the poor while the elite build higher walls.

TRUMP: It’s called being a winner. You should try it sometime. Your country is finally winning. They’re on the right side of history—my side. They’re with America. They’re pumping the oil. They’re keeping the socialists in Venezuela nervous. It’s beautiful. A beautiful thing. You wanted to be a big shot in the “Non-Aligned Movement.” A bunch of poor countries complaining. I lead the world. The real world. And in the real world, capital is king.

BURNHAM: (He drains his glass and sets it down with quiet finality.) No, Mr. Trump. In the real world, the struggle for genuine independence is eternal. You have merely refined the mechanisms of control, made them more palatable, more “market-friendly.” You call it a “deal.” We called it imperialism. The language has evolved, but the objective remains the same.

(He stands, adjusting his cufflinks.)

The difference between us, Mr. Trump, is this: I believed the state existed to serve as steward for the people—all the people—especially when fortune smiled upon the nation through no effort of its own. You believe fortune favors those who can seize it, and that seizing it is itself a virtue. I believed an accident of geography created a sacred trust. You believe it creates an opportunity.

(He turns toward the door.)

History will judge which vision was worthy of the gift we were given. Enjoy your soda.

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Guyana Business Journal
Website: https://guyanabusinessjournal.com
Mission: Fostering critical dialogue and thought leadership that contribute to securing an open, prosperous, and inclusive Guyana

Editor’s Note

📢 Please support the Guyana Business Journal & Magazine today

The Guyana Business Journal is committed to delivering thoughtful, data-driven insights on the most critical issues shaping Guyana’s future—from oil and gas to climate change, governance, and development. We invite you to support us if you value and believe in the importance of independent Guyanese-led analysis. Your contributions help us sustain rigorous research, expand access, and amplify the voices of informed individuals across the Caribbean and the diaspora.

The Guyana Business Journal Editorial Board welcomes reflections and submissions at terrence.blackman@guyanabusinessjournal.com.