Something is wrong with us.
Not simply with the Government. Not simply with the Opposition. Not simply with the private sector. Something is wrong with the expectations we have for ourselves and for our country. We are living through one of the most extraordinary economic transformations in modern history, yet many Guyanese continue to evaluate our progress as though we are still a poor country struggling to survive. We are not.
Guyana is rapidly becoming one of the world’s largest oil producers on a per capita basis. Within a few years, production is expected to approach one million barrels of oil per day. Oil revenues are flowing into the Treasury at levels previous generations could scarcely imagine. Every year brings announcements of record revenues, record growth, record investment, and record economic performance. If someone had described today’s Guyana twenty years ago, most of us would have dismissed it as fantasy.
Yet the daily experience of many Guyanese tells a very different story. The cost of living continues to rise. Food prices remain high. Transportation is expensive. Housing is increasingly out of reach. Many young professionals cannot afford to live independently. Many families continue to struggle from paycheck to paycheck. Wages remain stubbornly low relative to the cost of everyday life. The disconnect between national wealth and individual experience should be producing public outrage. Instead, it often produces applause.
That is the part that concerns me most. We have become so accustomed to scarcity that we celebrate things that should be considered the minimum expectation in a rapidly growing oil economy. A cash grant is announced and we are grateful. A road is repaired and we applaud. A playground is built and we celebrate. A drainage trench is cleaned and social media erupts with praise. None of these things are bad. Governments should provide them. The question is why we react as though basic governmental responsibilities are extraordinary acts of generosity.
The money does not belong to politicians. It does not belong to ministers. It does not belong to any political party. It belongs to Guyana. More specifically, it belongs to current and future generations of Guyanese citizens. Somehow we have accepted a political culture in which citizens are expected to be grateful for receiving a small fraction of wealth that already belongs to them. Our expectations have not caught up with our reality.
A country producing hundreds of thousands of barrels of oil every day should not have families worried about whether they can afford groceries. A country receiving billions in oil revenues should not have citizens struggling to pay rent, finance transportation, or secure a mortgage. A country experiencing record economic growth should not have thousands of young people wondering whether they have a future here or whether they should migrate. Yet these conversations occur every day in homes, workplaces, minibus parks, markets, and online discussions across Guyana.
Even more troubling is our growing acceptance of discrimination, favoritism, and unequal treatment. Organizations are funded while others are starved. Some groups receive repeated opportunities while others are overlooked despite years of proven performance. Opportunities appear for some and disappear for others. Political loyalty often appears more valuable than competence. Entire communities feel neglected while others enjoy privileged access. Whether one supports the Government or not, it is difficult to deny that many Guyanese have come to accept these realities as normal.
The response is rarely outrage. More often it is resignation. We shrug our shoulders and move on. We tell ourselves that this is simply how Guyana works. We adjust our expectations downward and convince ourselves that nothing better is possible. But why should citizens in one of the world’s fastest-growing economies accept standards that would be considered unacceptable elsewhere? Why should we tolerate systems that reward connections over performance, loyalty over competence, and proximity to power over merit?
We have also become strangely tolerant of underperformance. Crime remains a major concern. Flooding remains a constant threat. Traffic congestion continues to worsen. Public transportation remains inadequate. Basic government services remain frustratingly inefficient. Every rainy season reminds us how vulnerable our communities remain. Every day commuters sit in traffic that consumes valuable hours of productivity and family life. Every week citizens encounter bureaucratic delays that should have been eliminated years ago. Yet we have become experts at lowering the bar. A flooded street becomes normal. A delayed project becomes normal. A broken promise becomes normal. An avoidable inconvenience becomes normal.
One of the most revealing aspects of public discussion in recent years has been our tendency to celebrate relatively minor interventions while much larger structural problems remain unresolved. We debate drains, parapets, and isolated projects while billions of dollars flow through the economy. We celebrate visible gestures while avoiding the larger question: what should Guyana actually look like at this level of national wealth? What should crime rates look like? What should public transportation look like? What should schools, hospitals, drainage systems, recreational facilities, and wages look like? What should entrepreneurship support look like? What should opportunities for young people look like? Those are the standards against which governments should be measured.
The greatest danger facing Guyana is not that we will fail. The greatest danger is that we will succeed far below our potential and convince ourselves that it is enough. Countries do not rise simply because they become wealthy. Countries rise because their citizens demand excellence from the institutions that govern them. They demand transparency. They demand accountability. They demand competence. They demand results. Most importantly, they refuse to settle for less than what is possible.
That is the change Guyana needs. Not more loyalty. Not more slogans. Not more excuses. We need higher expectations. We need citizens who understand that oil wealth is not a gift from politicians but a national asset that should translate into measurable improvements in quality of life. We need citizens willing to ask difficult questions when billions are spent and longstanding problems remain unsolved. We need citizens who understand that gratitude and accountability are not the same thing.
Something is wrong with us if we can watch unprecedented wealth flow into our country while accepting conditions that would have been disappointing even before the first barrel of oil was produced. Guyanese deserve better than this. The first step toward getting it is believing that we do. The second is demanding it.
