(Guyana Business Journal)- When motorcycles and speedboats become political currency, democracy itself is being renegotiated.
In recent months, the Guyanese political landscape has been disrupted by a new and curious phenomenon: the emergence of We Invest in Nationhood (WIN)—a political movement founded and led by businessman Azruddin Mohammed. To the casual observer, it may appear to be a campaign of largesse: generous donations, village visits, and gleaming motorcades. But beneath the spectacle lies a more complex question: What does the rise of Mohammed—and the movement he now fronts—say about the state of governance, accountability, and opportunity in a rapidly transforming Guyana?
Mohammed is no ordinary political entrant. He is a son of the country’s most prominent gold dealer, a financier of elite drag racing, and a donor known for redistributing motorcycles, boats, and homes to underserved communities. In some quarters, this has earned him a “village benefactor” reputation; in others, suspicion and scrutiny. His wealth accumulation, business dealings, and U.S. sanctions—including allegations of under-invoicing luxury imports and circumventing export duties—raise serious concerns. Still, for a significant portion of the population, particularly in poor urban, interior, and riverine communities, Mohammed represents something few political actors have ever embodied: presence.
He is there, in person. He listens. He gives. And, perhaps most importantly in an electoral climate colored by disillusionment, he promises difference.
Yet, the WIN movement is defined as much by what it says as by what it does not say. There is, to date, no publicly articulated position on the Sovereign Wealth Fund. No stance on oil contract renegotiation. No framework for local content governance. No position on whether the Natural Resource Fund should prioritize debt reduction, infrastructure investment, or direct cash transfers. No vision for how oil revenues should reshape the social contract between the state and citizens. Its platform leans on generalities—empowerment, equity, youth, green development—but sidesteps the hard questions of how the state should mediate between capital and citizenship in an oil-producing republic.
This vagueness might be tactical. WIN has absorbed elements of ANUG, borrowed rhetoric from civil society, and wrapped its message in a populist idiom that positions it as an outsider force against the traditional PPP and PNCR establishment. Under Guyana’s proportional representation system, even 5-7% of the national vote could translate into 3-4 parliamentary seats—enough to play kingmaker in a fragmented legislature. But if WIN is to be more than a vehicle for elite power repositioning, it must go further. It must articulate policy. It must subject itself to scrutiny. And it must explain how it proposes to transform the structural conditions that have long deprived ordinary Guyanese of basic services, good jobs, and institutional trust.
We are witnessing the commodification of credibility—personality filling the vacuum left by weak institutions, spectacle substituting for governance. Where the electorate is fragmented, even a modest mobilisation of resources—particularly when paired with smart electoral mathematics and the Hare quota system—can yield outsized parliamentary leverage.
The WIN phenomenon, then, is not simply about Azruddin Mohammed. It is about us. About the kind of politics we have allowed. About the credibility crisis of traditional parties. About the underperformance of state institutions and the incentive structures that reward charisma over clarity, and patronage over policy.
WIN may not win. But even if it doesn’t, its emergence marks a pivotal inflection point. It reflects the political volatility of the oil era—a volatility born of unmet expectations, rising inequality, and an information ecosystem where money, memes, and mistrust travel faster than manifestos. For Guyana to thrive in this decade of transformation, it must rise above transactionalism and demand governance rooted in transparency, accountability, and long-term vision.
Oil wealth offers us a once-in-a-century opportunity to rebuild Guyana’s social contract. The WIN phenomenon—win or lose—signals that this contract cannot be written in Georgetown boardrooms alone. It must be forged in village squares, negotiated in parliament, and anchored not in gifts, but in guarantees, not in promises, but in plans.
