Dear Editor,
The Guyana Revenue Authority (GRA) owes the public more than a sensational press release and a handful of discarded employees. Almost one month after six staff members, including a manager, were summarily fired over the transfer of 11 motor vehicles owned by US‑sanctioned businessman and opposition leader‑in‑waiting, Azruddin Mohamed, the nation has been treated to noise, innuendo and political theatre — but conspicuously, not a single local money laundering charge.
In its first public blast, GRA boldly announced that not only would employees face consequences, but that proceedings were being initiated against Mohamed himself under Guyana’s Anti‑Money Laundering and Countering the Financing of Terrorism framework. That declaration was quickly walked back and scrubbed in a subsequent “amended” release, with the new line being that no local indictment can proceed while the United States pursues its 11‑count extradition case. Which is it? Either the evidence is strong enough to justify publicly threatening AML/CFT charges against Mohamed, or it is not. If it is not, on what ethical basis did GRA place his name in the dock of public opinion, and why are only its own staff paying the immediate price?
What has slowly seeped into the public domain is even more disturbing. Documentation points to the Licence Revenue Office having failed to follow “standard operating procedures” in processing the transfer of Mohamed’s vehicles, even as it concedes that those very SOPs contain no provisions whatsoever for dealing with sanctioned individuals. Yet, the same documents accuse staff of knowing that Mohamed was sanctioned, knowing that “restrictions” had been imposed, and still proceeding without seeking guidance. The public is entitled to ask: how can officers be condemned for breaching a rule that never existed, under “restrictions” that were never transparently defined, using a sanctions framework that was never operationalised within the department?
If there are no clear internal directives, no circulated guidelines, no training, no black‑and‑white text that instructs frontline officers how to treat transactions involving persons designated by a foreign authority, then GRA’s management, not its rank‑and‑file, stands indicted. It is management that is duty‑bound to translate national AML/CFT and targeted financial sanctions obligations into concrete, workable procedures. It is management that must ensure that employees are properly apprised, trained and supervised. When those duties are neglected, to suddenly discover “gross misconduct” only after a political storm gathers over the name of an opposition figure is not enforcement; it is opportunism.
The public must also pay close attention to the choreography of this case. First came the US sanctions, then the indictment and extradition request, then the public branding of Mohamed as a criminal by foreign authorities. Only after that did we witness a sudden eruption of domestic zeal around his motor vehicles, packaged as an anti‑money laundering triumph and resulting in the public sacrifice of six GRA staff. If the handling of those vehicles was so egregious, where was GRA’s urgency before Washington spoke? Where was the robust, institutional AML posture in the years when the same actors were allegedly “too big to fail” and too connected to touch?
There is something fundamentally rotten in an approach that uses “money laundering” as a slogan, not a standard. The law is either applied consistently or it is not applied at all. If the transfers of those 11 vehicles were part of a broader laundering scheme, then the logical question is obvious: where are the criminal charges, the comprehensive investigations, the public engagement with evidence? And if GRA is now hiding behind the extradition process to avoid charging Mohamed locally, then it must explain why the need for legal caution does not extend to protecting its own staff from rushed, politically convenient dismissals.
We therefore pose, in the court of public opinion, the questions GRA appears determined not to answer directly:
Why were employees terminated for allegedly breaching “standard operating procedures” that, by the admission of internal documents, do not contain a single provision addressing sanctioned individuals or foreign designations?
On what date were GRA’s Licence Revenue staff formally notified — in writing — of any “restrictions” on transactions involving Azruddin Mohamed, and where can those instructions be found?
What precise sections of GRA’s internal manuals, circulars or SOPs are said to have been violated, and why have these not been published alongside the public shaming of the staff?
If the alleged misconduct is so serious as to warrant immediate termination and public condemnation, why has GRA not laid criminal complaints or transparently outlined the steps taken to engage the Special Organised Crime Unit, FIU, or any other competent authority?
How does GRA reconcile its initial pronouncement that proceedings would be brought against Mohamed under anti‑money laundering law with its subsequent retreat under the cover of the extradition process, and why should the public accept that this legal sophistication applies only at the level of the politically exposed, and not the level of ordinary workers?
Is GRA prepared to disclose whether similar transactions involving other politically connected or high‑value taxpayers have been subjected to the same harsh internal scrutiny and sanctions, or is this sudden zeal reserved for persons who have fallen out of favour with the current administration and its foreign partners?
Until these questions are answered openly and in full, the firing of six employees will stand less as an act of principled enforcement and more as a calculated spectacle — a sacrifice of mid‑level workers on the altar of geopolitical and partisan convenience. It will look like a ruse: a carefully staged morality play in which the State points to the heads of its own staff on a platter to signal compliance to Washington, while a domestic political opponent is used as the narrative centrepiece but carefully shielded from local judicial testing of the very allegations splashed across press releases.
This is not how a confident, law‑abiding State behaves. A confident State does not hide its rules from its workers and then punish them for failing to guess them. It does not weaponise foreign sanctions to manage its internal political opponents while pretending to be helplessly bound by extradition formalities. It does not demand blind obedience from public servants while denying them clear guidance and equal protection.
Guyanese citizens must not be lulled into believing that every invocation of “money laundering” and “sanctions” is inherently noble. These are powerful tools, but in the hands of an unaccountable administration they become powerful weapons. Today, six GRA workers stand in the firing line. Tomorrow, it could be any public servant who happens to stand at the intersection of foreign pressure and domestic politics.
GRA’s Board, its Commissioner‑General and, ultimately, the Government of Guyana must understand that silence will not make these questions disappear. The public is watching. The staff of GRA is watching. And the more the authorities dodge legitimate scrutiny, the clearer it becomes that this is not simply about 11 vehicles, but about the continued persecution and victimisation of citizens by a State that prefers spectacle to accountability and scapegoats to reform.
Regards
Hemdutt Kumar
