“Tinting Reform: Control Under the Guise of Modernisation”

 Dear Editor,

When Guyana’s stricter vehicle tint regulations came into force on April 1, the announcement was dressed in the usual rhetoric of “compliance, transparency and safety.” But beneath the surface of fines and percentages, lies something far more revealing — a deepening pattern of administrative control. The government calls it reform; the public experiences it as policing.

Attorney General Anil Nandlall has made clear that breaches will not be tolerated, and that anyone seeking exemption — even senior officials — must apply in writing. That line alone captures the paradox of Guyana’s governance culture. Only days ago, the President and his ever-expressive AG were extolling the virtues of “modern law reform” for a world-class country adapting to global standards. Yet here we stand, told to pull out pen and paper to seek ministerial mercy. In which modern system do citizens still file written applications to access what should be routine administrative processes?

Under the guise of modernization, the state continues to entrench its reach into every layer of daily life. Tint laws are just the latest entry in the long list of performative regulations — enacted not to serve society, but to remind it of who wields authority. Enforcement, fines, and mandatory written appeals form the familiar triad of control dressed as reform. It is a system where rules expand faster than rights, and procedures grow longer than principles.

The double standard remains unmissable. Common motorists face police spot checks and a $30,000 fine; those close to power glide under exemptions — often secured quietly, comfortably, and with little public scrutiny. The AG assures us that “even senior officials” are not automatically exempt, but Guyana’s historical memory tells a different story. Enforcement has never been equal; it has always been selective. In the theatre of regulation, the ordinary citizen is perpetually the star defendant.

These tint regulations would have been an easy opportunity to illustrate genuine modernisation — digital applications, searchable databases, transparent reporting on approvals, and evidence-driven road safety benchmarks. Instead, Guyana doubles down on visible power: checkpoints, paperwork, and public warnings. Reform in Guyana too often begins with the language of modernization and ends in the ritual of control.

At its core, this is not about tinted glass but about opaque governance. Behind every fine and written application lies a broader truth — we are governed through enforcement, not engagement. Until reform means decentralisation, efficiency, and equal treatment before the law, the promise of modernization will remain tinted — dark enough to obscure accountability and yet transparent enough for every citizen to see who the rules are really written for.

Yours truly,
Hemdutt Kumar