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Home Op-ed

People like Priya Manickhand use our Welcome Mat to Wipe Their Feet While we Suffer, I Find That Frustrating

Staff Writer by Staff Writer
November 13, 2025
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I am a child of Guyana, but sometimes I feel like a stranger in my own home. I grew up in a community where we greet everyone; aunties, uncles, friends, and even the strangers who wander through. It’s how we were raised. That warmth, that openness, is something I’ve always been proud of. But now, as I watch the political theatre that plays out with our lives as the stakes, I’m starting to see our famous welcome as a fatal flaw.

We are being played. And I am terrified that if we don’t wake up, young people like me will gain nothing from our new economic realities, my children will inherit nothing but the scraps from a feast we helped cook.

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Let’s be honest.  The PPP’s 2025 racism is a sophisticated, smiling one and mostly because they face new numerical disadvantages. Their racism no longer comes with a curse word; it comes with a contract you’ll never see. It doesn’t always wear a scowl; it wears a million-dollar outfit at a photo-op in a struggling community. It’s the kind of racism that puts new bins in Stabroek Market, now that they’re in control of the city, but systematically ensures that the Black businesses around it can’t get a loan to grow. It’s the racism that elevates a James Bond to be their “see, we’re not racist” trophy, while denying thousands of Black public servants a living wage.

And the most painful part? We keep welcoming them in.  I look at someone like Priya Manickchand. As Minister of Education, she presided over a system that failed a generation of children, and seemed to work diligently to reduce academic achievement in African communities. Teachers, the backbone of our communities, were demoralized and underpaid on her watch. Our children are being un-educated, set up for a future of dependency. Yet, she can stroll into our communities, having allegedly used expensive weight-loss drugs and flaunting luxury, use the talents of our underpaid Black youth; designers and videographers, to buff her image, and get a smile and a handshake.

What are we doing? Why is our welcome mat so easily available for those who use it to wipe their feet?

Our parents and grandparents taught us to be forgiving, to be open-hearted. I get that. That spirit is beautiful. But in the brutal reality of Guyanese politics, that spirit is being used as a weapon against us. The PPP understands bloc voting. They understand ethnic solidarity. They show up for their base with a ruthless efficiency that, frankly, I wish we could emulate.

Meanwhile, we are diluting our own power. We are splitting our votes, chasing multi-racial ideals in a political game that is currently being played on a racial battlefield. We are so afraid of being called “racist” that we won’t stand up for ourselves with the same unified force. We celebrate when one of our own gets a minor position, ignoring the fact that the entire system is designed to prevent the collective advancement of Black people.

We are not needy. We are not bewitched. We are trapped in a tradition of inclusion that is not being reciprocated. We are following a rulebook that the other side threw away decades ago.  I am not calling for us to become what we hate. I am calling for a strategic, self-respecting awakening.

It’s time we take up our welcome mat. Not forever, but until the respect is mutual. It’s time we channel that beautiful, community-building spirit inward; supporting Black-owned businesses, mentoring our own youth, and holding our own leaders accountable. Most importantly, we must vote with the same clear-eyed understanding of power that other groups do.

We must stop applauding the people who give us a handshake while they hand our birthright to foreigners and a connected few. The message from our generation must be clear; You cannot use our talents to build your profile while your policies destroy our future. You are no longer welcome to dance in our yards if you won’t let our children own the land.

Our ancestors bought villages with nothing but collective will. That is our legacy. It’s not a legacy of mendicancy; it’s a legacy of power. It’s time we remembered that. If we don’t stand together now, our children will be doomed to beg for what should have been theirs by right.


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