by Simone James
In an election year, every gesture is calculated, and few are more strategically timed than the sudden embrace of African Guyanese influencers by the People’s Progressive Party (PPP). From carefully staged photo ops to glitzy summits like the Caribbean Content Creators and Influencers Summit, the PPP is aggressively courting Black content creators in what appears to be a desperate attempt to patch cracks in its political base.
It is no secret that the PPP is increasingly worried about the erosion of support within its traditional ethnic strongholds. That anxiety has prompted the party to extend belated and superficial overtures to communities it has historically ignored, especially the African Guyanese population. In this new digital campaign, influencers are not being asked to demand justice or accountability. They’re being asked to pose, post, and praise. And many, unfortunately, are obliging.
There’s something deeply unsettling about watching Black influencers cozy up to a government with a well-documented history of undermining the very people they represent. Some appear unaware, or perhaps unconcerned, by the contradictions. Minister Kwame McCoy, for example, is one of the main faces behind the PPP’s influencer charm offensive. And yet, McCoy has long been shadowed by serious allegations, including accusations of crimes against women and children. These accusations have never been fully addressed. Still, he stands at the center of the party’s campaign to win over the digital generation.
At the same time, the lived experiences of African Guyanese communities tell a very different story. This is the same government that oversaw mass firings of mostly Black public servants. The same administration that maintains stagnant wages in a public sector largely staffed by African Guyanese workers. The same leadership under which communities have been displaced, lands have been taken, and extrajudicial killings have occurred without justice. These are not old grievances, they are present-day realities.
And yet, many influencers are using their platforms not to challenge these injustices but to legitimize the very power structures responsible for them. Rather than acting as advocates, they’ve become tools, used to lend the PPP a new face while nothing substantive changes. There’s no push for reform. No call for accountability. Just polished captions and curated smiles.
It is especially troubling when influence is used in service of erasure. By engaging in this public dance with power, these creators risk silencing the real pain and valid concerns of their communities. Influence should be a tool for amplification, not assimilation.
The bitter irony is that many of these influencers will gain little from their complicity. The PPP will not pay them significantly, nor will they protect or support them once their usefulness has expired. They are pawns in a political marketing scheme, and once the elections are over, they will be discarded, just like the communities the party is now scrambling to win over.
Minister McCoy recently remarked, “It was an honour to participate in the inaugural Caribbean Content Creators and Influencers Summit, a timely convergence of talent, technology, and transformation, especially as the region confronts new opportunities in digital storytelling and economic innovation.” His words are elegant, but hollow.
For African Guyanese citizens still struggling for dignity, security, and opportunity, this so-called convergence means nothing if it is not rooted in truth, justice, and accountability.
Influence is powerful. But if it is not used to challenge injustice and uplift the people who made you, then it’s just another form of silence dressed up as relevance.