Every time someone raises concerns about the endless cycle of partying, Carnival events, concerts, and entertainment being marketed to young people, particularly young Afro-Guyanese, the response is almost always the same: “Mind your business. It’s their money.”
That response completely misses the point.
Nobody is questioning people’s right to enjoy themselves. Nobody is saying people should not attend events, support promoters, listen to music, or spend their hard-earned money however they choose. Life is hard. People deserve enjoyment. They deserve moments to laugh, dance, celebrate, and temporarily forget the pressures that come with simply trying to survive.
What some of us are questioning is what happens when the music stops.
Recently, social media was flooded with images of young people standing in the rain with umbrellas, determined to attend entertainment events despite the weather. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. What caught my attention was not the crowd itself, but the contrast. Around the same time, there were photographs of ministers distributing grants and support to various sectors. One image showed people gathered around a stage waiting for an artiste. The other showed people receiving resources that could potentially expand businesses, improve production, or create wealth.
The conversation was never about who bought a ticket. The conversation is about what opportunities are being promoted and who is receiving them.
For years, whenever people complain about the cost of living, rising food prices, lack of access to capital, difficulties obtaining house lots, challenges securing loans, or economic hardship generally, there is always someone eager to point to a packed concert and declare that people cannot possibly be struggling. Suddenly a few thousand people at an event become evidence that an entire nation is prospering. The same people who tell us not to judge the spending habits of a small percentage of attendees are often the very same people who use those attendees as proof that hardship does not exist.
You cannot have it both ways.
If a packed event does not represent the wider population when criticism arises, then it cannot suddenly represent the wider population when you need evidence that everybody is doing well. Likewise, if the public is expected to rally behind causes when communities face challenges, rising costs, poor services, or other concerns, then the public also has the right to discuss the social and economic choices being encouraged within those same communities. Citizenship does not work on an on-and-off switch where people are told to mind their business one day and then asked for solidarity the next.
A concert crowd is not an economic report. A Carnival costume is not a measure of financial security. A sold-out show is not proof that citizens have equal access to opportunities. It simply proves that some people chose to spend money on entertainment.
What concerns me is the larger picture. Why do some communities seem to be constantly exposed to opportunities for ownership, investment, expansion, and wealth creation, while others are repeatedly marketed consumption? Why are there aggressive campaigns around entertainment but far less visibility around business development, entrepreneurship, asset ownership, and economic empowerment? Why do we seem more comfortable teaching people how to spend than teaching them how to build?
This is not an attack on promoters. Entertainment is a business and businesses create jobs. Vendors earn money. Taxi drivers earn money. Hotels earn money. Small businesses benefit. Nobody is denying that. In fact, many of the same promoters have demonstrated tremendous influence before. Years ago, Carnival loans were being promoted through partnerships with financial institutions. Clearly, when something is considered important enough to market, the reach exists.
So why are we not seeing that same energy consistently directed toward entrepreneurship programmes, financial literacy, business ownership, access to capital, agricultural opportunities, housing initiatives, and long-term wealth creation? Why are young people constantly being encouraged to attend the next event, but far less often being encouraged to own the next business?
These are uncomfortable questions, but they are necessary ones.
Because when I look at the images, I do not simply see people having fun. I see a broader question about priorities. I see young people being encouraged to consume while others are being positioned to produce. I see one conversation focused on entertainment and another focused on economic advancement.
Maybe that perception is wrong. But if it is wrong, then those in positions of influence should be doing more to demonstrate otherwise.
Which brings me back to the original point.
The issue was never the party.
The issue is what opportunities exist when the party ends.
As Guyana approaches sixty years of Independence, I find myself wondering whether we have become too comfortable confusing activity with advancement. We celebrate crowds but rarely ask who owns the venue. We celebrate spending but rarely ask who controls the capital. We celebrate consumption but seem uncomfortable discussing ownership.
People should absolutely enjoy themselves. But citizens also have every right to ask whether enough is being done to ensure that the next generation is not only attending events but also gaining access to the resources, support, and opportunities necessary to build wealth, acquire assets, and create lasting economic security.
That is not counting people’s money.
That is asking where the investment is going.
And whether people like the question or not, it is a question worth asking.
Sincerely,
Martian Nella
Writer & Cultural Commentator
