Dear Editor,
Minister Priya Manickchand’s recent performance regarding the Region 10 leadership impasse is a textbook study in the “ugly” side of governance—a blend of rhetorical crassness and calculated inaction. By hiding behind the claim that she has “zero powers” to instruct her own Regional Executive Officer (REO), the Minister isn’t just citing the law; she is weaponizing it to facilitate a democratic vacuum. Her choice of language—specifically the absurd suggestion that she is being asked to “beat” the REO—is a classic deflection tactic. It is the signature move of a politician who believes they are the “brightest bulb in the room,” using hyperbole to infantilize the opposition and trivialize a serious constitutional crisis. By framing a request for administrative accountability as a demand for physical violence, she shifts the conversation away from her duty and into the realm of the ridiculous. This isn’t just expressive; it is a crass attempt to mask a lack of political will with theatrical disdain.
The assertion that a Minister of Local Government has no recourse when a subordinate officer halts a democratic process for five months is an admission of systemic disarray—or worse, a deliberate endorsement of it. The REO is not an independent monarch; he is an officer within the Ministry’s ambit. To suggest he can indefinitely suspend the RDC election without the Minister having the power to even advise a reconvening is a total surrender of executive responsibility. While the Minister points to legislative changes in 2018 that removed her “tie-breaking” vote, those changes did not remove her obligation to ensure the machinery of local democracy actually functions. This “hands tied” narrative is a convenient fiction used only when the electoral outcome—in this case, the rise of WIN in a targeted demographic—does not suit the administration’s agenda.
By refusing to act, the Minister becomes the ultimate enabler of an unlawful status quo. This is dereliction of duty rebranded as “legal constraint.” When a government ignores protocols and allows a single appointed official to block the swearing-in of an elected body, it reveals a penchant for retribution over representation. This is the “power-drunk” reality of a system that knows there is no immediate recourse for the citizens of Region 10. The government’s constant preaching of “One Guyana” and rapid development rings hollow when they allow an entire administrative region to remain headless for half a year. True development requires functional democratic institutions, not just infrastructure. By prioritizing political control over the local democratic process, the administration exposes itself as a “false messiah”—more interested in punishing a region that voted against the grain than in upholding the laws they are sworn to protect. This isn’t governance; it is a calculated siege on the will of the people.
Sincerely
Hemdutt Kumar
