By Roysdale Forde S.C- As Guyana gets ready for yet another pivotal election, 4 days, in another four days, a very troubling pattern has emerged from the shadows of political machinations: citizens nationwide are besieged by unsolicited political telephone calls, emanating exclusively from the People’s Progressive Party/Civic (PPP/C). This is no benign voter engagement; it is a calculated incursion into private lives, prompting an inescapable and damning inquiry: By what illicit means has the PPP/C commandeered the sacred sanctum of citizens’ private telephone numbers?
Let us dispense with equivocation: this egregious tactic is the PPP/C’s alone. A Partnership for National Unity (APNU), The Alliance for Change (AFC), We Invest In Nationhood (WIN) and other opposition entities have refrained from such predatory outreach. Reports from every corner of the nation paint a portrait of unilateral dominance: the PPP/C’s operatives, armed with precision-targeted data, dial into homes with impunity. This monopoly on intrusion reeks of foul play, insinuating that the PPP/C is brazenly weaponising confidential information harvested through the coercive apparatus of the state to engineer an electoral hegemony.
The genesis of this outrage traces directly to the government’s recent disbursement of a one-off $100,000 cash grant. Yet, beneath this veneer of benevolence lurks a Trojan horse of data exploitation. To administer these funds, the state compelled citizens to surrender exhaustive personal dossiers: names, addresses, National Identification Numbers, and crucially, telephone numbers. Guyanese complied in good faith, entrusting their intimate details to public stewards under the implicit covenant that such data would serve solely administrative imperatives, not partisan predation.
If this store of sensitive information, amassed under the auspices of governmental authority, has been surreptitiously funneled into the PPP/C’s electoral campaign, then we confront a profound constitutional crisis. This constitutes nothing less than a flagrant abuse of power, a blatant violation of privacy rights enshrined in Guyana’s Constitution and international human rights instruments such as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. It undermines the foundational pillars of electoral fairness, transforming state mechanisms into instruments of political favouritism and voter manipulation.
Such suspicions are not idle conjecture but grounded in irrefutable logic. The calls’ tailored to demographics, regions, and even socio-economic profiles, betrays access to a centralised, privileged database, the likes of which only an incumbent regime could plunder. Absent a forthright, independently verifiable disclosure from the PPP/C delineating legitimate, non-governmental procurement channels, perhaps through voluntary opt-ins or commercial vendors, the presumption of guilt swells inexorably. Legal precedents abound: in jurisdictions worldwide, from the European Union’s General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) to analogous frameworks in the Caribbean Community (CARICOM), the unauthorised diversion of public data for private gain triggers severe sanctions, including criminal liability for breach of fiduciary duty and data protection statutes.
This potential felony extends tentacles far beyond mere telephony harassment. What other insidious applications lurk in the PPP/C’s arsenal? Are state databases being mined by shadowy operatives to construct voter profiles, orchestrate micro-targeted propaganda.
The ramifications transcend this electoral crucible, imperiling the very ethos of democracy. Permitting the porous boundary between state governance and party apparatus to dissolve unchecked normalises a dystopian paradigm of Orwellian oversight, where “constituent engagement” serves as a euphemism for coercion and control. Public trust, already frayed by perceptions of corruption and inequality, would shatter irreparably—not merely in the PPP/C’s stewardship but in the democracy itself. Guyana, a nascent democracy grappling with resource-driven prosperity and ethnic divisions, cannot afford this regression; it risks devolving into a petro-state autocracy, where data becomes the currency of control.
At this dangerous crossroads of peril and principle, all Guyanese must rally with unyielding resolve. Citizens: Demand transparency through petitions, public forums, and judicial recourse; invoke the Freedom of Information Act to compel disclosure of data handling protocols. Opposition forces: Spearhead a rigorous parliamentary inquiry, subpoena PPP/C officials, and advocate for emergency legislation mandating data firewalls between state and party. Civil society guardians (NGOs, media, and legal advocates) must vigilantly monitor, litigate, and expose, drawing upon alliances with international bodies like the Organization of American States (OAS) to enforce electoral integrity standards.
The PPP/C stands at a moral precipice: Seize this juncture to repudiate malfeasance. If the data was procured ethically, the show audited evidence forthwith. If not, mere contrition suffices not; restitution demands ironclad reforms, independent oversight commissions, stringent data privacy laws, and punitive measures against violators, to safeguard against future exploitation. Anything less betrays a contemptuous disregard for the rule of law.
In the interim, a haunting query lingers over Guyana’s democratic soul: When citizens yield their personal data to the state, does it remain a trust held in public interest, or a plunder ripe for partisan pillage? The answer will define not just an election, but the nation’s fidelity to justice, equity, and the inviolable rights of its people.
