In “Don’t Tell Me,“ (below), Attorney-at-Law, former Prime Minister and First Vice President Moses V. Nagamootoo delivers a pointed reflection on Guyana’s political and economic trajectory in the oil era. The poem laments what the author portrays as the normalization of corruption, the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of a privileged few, and the erosion of accountability despite the country’s unprecedented oil revenues.
Through the repeated refrain, “Don’t tell me,” Nagamootoo suggests that the warning signs of corruption, cronyism and inequality have long been visible and should not come as a surprise. He contrasts lavish public spending, alleged scandals and displays of wealth with the continued hardship faced by ordinary Guyanese, while expressing concern over the use of state power, fear, and intimidation.
The poem also serves as a patriotic appeal, warning against the exploitation or surrender of Guyana’s natural resources—including its oil, gas, forests and minerals—and urging that the country’s sovereignty be protected from undue foreign influence. Ultimately, it is both a political critique and a call for transparency, justice and responsible stewardship of Guyana’s national wealth for the benefit of all its citizens.
DON’T TELL ME
Poem by Moses V. Nagamootoo
Don’t tell me, “I told you so”
About corruption years ago.
Don’t tell me, “I told you so”
About bribes before the oil-flow.
Don’t tell me you didn’t see
The birth of a kleptocracy.
No longer lean and/or clean
Many get rich by any means.
Shady deals is talk in town:
Mansions, land, cars in the shakedown.
Don’t tell me you didn’t see
The growth of the oligarchy,
The flow of dirty money,
The stain, shame, on our country.
Don’t tell me you didn’t see
The fast rise of the greedy.
Don’t tell me, “I told you so”
About scandals years ago.
Don’t tell me you spent billions
Ooops, sorry, multi-trillion
On pet projects and trips galore
While our people remain poor.
Don’t tell me about fear
That prevails almost everywhere.
Police hiding behind masks
Their hands on big guns and tear gas.
Hate me, curse me, erase me
Just don’t sell our dear country –
Gold, land, forest, gas and oil –
Or bring foreign boots on our soil.
