Dear Editor.
President Irfaan Ali says he is “not playing politics with potholes.” It is a neat line—clean, memorable, and designed to reassure.
But governance is not theatre. And the reality unfolding in Georgetown tells a more complicated story.
The decision to unilaterally assume control of more than 50 city roads is not just about fixing infrastructure. It is about power—how it is exercised, how it is expanded, and how easily it can blur the line between public service and political strategy.
Let us not pretend otherwise.
No one disputes that Georgetown’s roads need urgent attention. Citizens have endured years of neglect, and any effort to improve infrastructure should, in principle, be welcomed. But good governance is not defined by outcomes alone—it is defined by process, legitimacy, and respect for institutions.
And this is where the administration falters.
Political authority is not earned by wresting control of municipal assets under the banner of efficiency. That is not leadership. That is the use of central power to override local governance—because it is convenient, because it is expedient, and perhaps, because it is politically advantageous.
𝙂𝙚𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙣’𝙨 𝘾𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙡, 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙗𝙚, 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨—𝙤𝙛 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙖 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧, 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙂𝙪𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙖.
𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨.
Because every time central government sidesteps or diminishes a locally elected body, it sends a message: that the voice of the people at that level can be bypassed when it becomes inconvenient.
That is a dangerous precedent.
If the administration believes the City Council is incapable of managing Georgetown, then there is a democratic remedy readily available—return to the people.
𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙜𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙒𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚.
That is how legitimacy is earned.
Anything less risks being seen not as governance, but as encroachment.
And while the President speaks of long-term planning and integrated transport systems, the immediate reality is far more visible: freshly paved roads that will, inevitably, be credited to central government. Optics matter in politics, and infrastructure is among the most powerful political tools any administration can wield.
Which is precisely why this moment demands scrutiny.
𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙥𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙭𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨, 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙪𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙡. 𝙄𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙄𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡.
𝙁𝙞𝙭𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙧𝙮. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚.
True transformation lies in confronting the structural inequities that continue to define everyday life for many Guyanese—stagnant wages, gaps in healthcare, uneven access to quality education, and the unresolved question of whether the country’s oil wealth is being maximized for its people.
These are not as visible as asphalt. They do not deliver immediate political dividends. But they are the measures by which leadership is ultimately judged.
The risk here is not that Georgetown’s roads are being repaired. The risk is that the method chosen undermines the very democratic principles that give governance its legitimacy.
Power, if it is to be respected, must also be restrained.
President Ali insists this is not politics.
But when control is expanded without consent, when institutions are bypassed rather than strengthened, and when visibility aligns so neatly with political advantage, the public is entitled—indeed obligated—to question that claim.
Yours truly will continue to defend not just development, but the democratic framework within which it must occur.
𝘽𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩.
𝙋𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙘 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩, 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙙, 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙚.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮
Let us speak plainly.
No amount of administrative maneuvering can substitute for democratic legitimacy. The People’s Progressive Party/Civic may assume control of streets, expand its administrative reach, and reshape the operational map of Georgetown—but it cannot rewrite the political reality that has defined the city for decades.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙋𝙋𝙋 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙣 𝙂𝙚𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙜𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.
𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙.
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨.
Because political power, in any democracy worthy of the name, is not secured through the gradual absorption of authority. It is earned—openly, competitively, and decisively—at the ballot box.
What is unfolding now risks creating a distinction the public will not ignore: control without consent.
Yes, roads may be paved. Yes, projects may be completed. Yes, visibility may increase. But none of these amount to validation. None of these confer the moral or political authority that only the electorate can grant.
If anything, they sharpen the contrast.
Because when a government exercises power in spaces it has historically failed to win, without first returning to the people for a mandate, the question is unavoidable: is this governance—or is this substitution?
The answer will not be found in infrastructure.
It will be found in whether the administration is willing to subject its ambitions in Georgetown to the only test that truly matters—free, fair, and fully contested elections.
𝙐𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣, 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩: 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡.
𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙮. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.
Yours truly,
Hemdutt Kumar
