Dear Editor,
In a matter of months, the Berbice Bridge is scheduled to revert to the State under its build‑own‑operate‑transfer (BOOT) arrangement, ending a 21‑year concession that was always presented as temporary private control over public infrastructure. Yet, rather than simply allowing time and contract to run their course, the Government now proposes to buy out the bridge company with roughly a year and a half left on the clock. Why the rush to purchase what the public is already due to own?
The explanation begins with the political decision to remove tolls on three major bridges, including the Berbice Bridge, replacing them with direct budgetary payments. Overnight, what was once revenue collected from individual motorists became a guaranteed stream drawn from the Consolidated Fund. The optics were soothing—families crossing free of charge, drivers relieved, and government messaging centred on “caring governance.” But beneath the spin lies the arithmetic of how those subsidies are being computed.
When the State removes the toll, it must compensate the company for lost earnings. That calculation is typically pegged to historical revenues and traffic flows. Once travel becomes toll‑free, vehicle counts naturally climb: trips increase, restraint vanishes, and new users appear. What used to be a price‑constrained flow of traffic transforms into a flood. Usage balloons—counts go up, Subsides goes up also, when government payments are tied to traffic volumes, every additional crossing effectively fattens the company’s state‑funded earnings. What was once a user‑pay model becomes a taxpayer‑guaranteed revenue stream.
Timing makes the pattern even more striking. This is not the early, risky phase of the project when investors were recovering their costs. It is the twilight of the concession—when the bridge is almost due to revert to the public. Yet it is now that the Government has chosen to remove tolls, anchor a generous subsidy on traffic increases, and open talks on a buyout. The combined effect is to pad investor earnings in the final years before sale negotiations. If higher traffic translates into higher State reimbursement, the investors enjoy an engineered surge in revenue just before the asset is valued for a buyout.
When that valuation occurs, the most obvious reference points will be recent and projected cashflows. These will reflect the inflated, publicly funded revenue of the toll‑free period. Any valuer will capitalise that income stream into a purchase price—meaning the State first fattens the cow with taxpayer feed and then pays top dollar to buy back the same animal. The result is a policy sequence that converts a temporary concession into a windfall in its closing stages.
This is not merely bad negotiation; it undermines the logic of the BOOT model itself. Under such arrangements, the public reclaims the asset at the end of the concession without cost. But if the State steps in just before expiry, replaces normal earnings with larger subsidies, and then uses those inflated accounts to justify a buyout, taxpayers end up paying again—often more—for what was already contractually theirs. The celebrated “toll‑free benefit” thus carries an invisible price tag buried in the national budget.
What makes the situation worse is secrecy. The concession agreement remains largely hidden. No detailed formula for the new subsidies has been laid before the National Assembly. Monthly traffic counts before and after the toll removal are scarcely publicised, nor is there a transparent explanation of how those counts feed into the company’s reimbursement or valuation. Without this data, citizens are told to trust that the numbers are fair and the State is negotiating prudently. Yet the alignment between political theatre and investor gain is too precise to ignore.
A familiar sequence emerges: promise toll‑free travel to harvest public—political goodwill; replace tolls with a subsidy tied to expected traffic growth; begin buyout talks while inflated earnings are still fresh; and keep the supporting data under wraps. Whether by design or coincidence, the result ensures that a well‑connected investor circle enjoys a publicly financed payday just before the asset passes fully into State ownership.
This is not an argument against toll‑free access. Government may rightly decide that critical infrastructure should be financed collectively. The problem lies not in the policy’s aim but in its execution—one that transforms a social good into a vehicle for private enrichment. A responsible approach would have allowed the concession to run its course, provided only minimal, transparent support, and ensured any buyout was based on historic, risk‑adjusted returns rather than subsidy‑bloated accounts.
Bridges should connect communities and extend opportunity, not channel wealth from the many to the few. Before another cent is committed to this buyout, the public deserves full disclosure: the concession terms, the traffic data, the subsidy formula, and the valuation report. Only then can citizens judge whether this is a fair acquisition—or another bridge over which their money quietly flows into well‑connected pockets.
Sincerely,
Hemdutt Kumar
