“He Was More Than a Firefighter”: family honours legacy of Voshaun Manbodh

Apr 20, 2025 Features / Columnists, News, Waterfalls Magazine

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By Shania Williams

Kaieteur News- Following the tragic death of young firefighter Voshaun Manbodh, many mourned the loss of a man who gave his life in service. But to those closest to him like his family, friends, and community, Voshaun was so much more than a fireman in uniform. He was a cheerful young man, a devoted son, and someone who carried with him an undeniable spark. At home in Melanie Damishana, he was the glue of his small family, completing it with his quiet strength and infectious energy.

In light of the brave fireman’s death, Manbodh’s family wanted to honour him by reflecting who he was before his passing, noting that he was not just a fireman but someone who touched many lives.

The Waterfalls spoke with Manbodh’s aunt, Remi Anderson who shared his greatest moments and challenges as a young man growing up.

With grief still profound, Anderson shared that Manbodh’s journey into service was rooted in a childhood filled with discipline, community, and love and values instilled in him through the scouting.  “He was exposed to it in scouting,” she recalled. “When he’s home from school, he’d go back-to-back scouting activities. We made sure he was active in his childhood.”

In his early teens, Manbodh attended a summer school, ironically, the very one he was fighting to save on the day of his death. “Incidentally, he used to go to the very same Mae’s summer school that he went fighting the fire to save,” Anderson revealed, pausing in reflection. “It’s full circle in the most painful way.”

Life wasn’t always smooth for Manbodh. He struggled academically, which left his future uncertain at times. “He didn’t do very well at CXC,” Anderson said. But Manbodh didn’t give up. In a story told with a mix of joy and tenderness, his aunt recounted how he and a friend once skipped town, without telling their families, to work construction—only to be scammed by an unscrupulous employer. “The man robbed them good and proper,” she said with shaking her head. “His grandmother who was closest to him was crying because Manbodh was nothing more than about 16 plus, 17 and he was not at home with her,” the aunt said.

That moment marked a turning point. Upon returning home, something shifted in Manbodh. He became more focused, more driven and decided to join the Guyana Defence Force. “He was also a very tidy person and very neat,” Anderson said, with a smile. “One day I noticed is that he was well-dressed… got on his socks and shoes, and he has a yellow envelope, and he’s taking his certificates with him.”

No one in the family knew that Manbodh was on a mission. He was walking around town, in dress clothes, applying for a job in the military. “He didn’t ask us for permission… He just got up early in the morning, got dressed, and he left the house, well-dressed, with this envelope.”

That envelope led him to the GDF, where he would eventually rise as a beloved member of the Force and a dedicated and respected colleague whose bravery and optimism touched those around him. However, Manbodh’s family initial reaction was mixed with pride, fear, and disbelief. “My father was… already pessimistic,” Anderson admitted. “He said at the time, there is an allotted number who will get the flag… not everybody makes it out.’” Still, she supported her nephew’s passion. “Because of the way he pursued it, my philosophy will be to pray and to bless him and to send him off under God’s coverage. Because that is what he wanted for himself.”

Despite never being formally trained as a swimmer, Manbodh joined the Coast Guard. “We didn’t know Voshaun to be a swimmer yet,” Anderson said. “You didn’t send the boy to swimming lessons… But you know, them children gone to the trench and they swim.”

Anderson described the family’s unease with pride tinged by anxiety. “You are always fearful when you are raising boys… and here is your nephew now in the Coast Guard and he can’t swim …But you’re getting videos and you’re watching him grow.”

Though his Coast Guard stint lasted just two years, those years were formative. “He was sharp in his uniform… and he is going after it. He came out from training and then he became a Coast Guard official.”

After leaving the Coast Guard, Manbodh  didn’t stay still. He went back to school, hustled on the streets with his brother, and eventually found his calling in the Fire Service. “He went back to TI to do a course,” Anderson said. “Eventually, he found himself in the Fire Service. I helped him with his application process and so forth.”

Manbodh’s sense of self-worth and responsibility

Manbodh’s sense of style and self-respect were as consistent as his work ethic. “His bed is always sharply made,” Anderson shared. “Voshaun is very particular about his clothes… he can spend money on the clothes. The brand name. The shorts and the boots.”

And his requests were often… specific. “One time he said, ‘Just US $125,’” she laughed. “But you should hear my guy list the stuff that he wanted… Tommy Hilfiger, Calvin Klein, American Eagle… two of everything like shorts, boxers, joggers.”

It wasn’t just about brands for Manbodh, it was about knowing his worth. “I like that about him because he knew he had to get a start,” Anderson said. “He understood that he had to have a foundation.”

Even with his commitment to service, Manbodh was never one to blindly follow rules. “You can’t tell him to do something if you’re not doing it,” Anderson said. “He has a keen sense of justice. If you park your vehicle where you’re not supposed to, and then tell him not to do the same, he will challenge you.”

Anderson believes this sense of fairness and rebellion shaped who he was: “If he feels something is not right, he’s not going to stick with it forever.”

Anderson recalled that from a young age, Manbodh was raised to be responsible. At just 18 years old, he was entrusted with the care of a calf. During that period, he was away undergoing GDF training, but he still made an effort to fulfill his duty. To ensure the calf was fed, Manbodh sent money home.

“Voshaun used to send home $4,000 from his salary,” his aunt shared. “His mom would come and deliver it… but $4,000 can’t buy grass for a whole month.” Despite the shortfall, the family admired his effort.

“It’s a start,” Anderson repeated. “That’s the mentality. His mom always told him, if you’re coming to ask for help, come with a start. People are more inclined to help you if you’re doing something for yourself.”

Further, Anderson explained that Vishawn had a rare connection with others, especially adults in the neighbourhood. “Every adult in this place was his friend,” Anderson recalled. “Every time he passed, he would call out to you—‘Cousin this,’ ‘Cousin that.’ He would go in, sit down and talk to you.”

She told a story of a neighbour offering up her grandchildren’s bike so Manbodh could sleep peacefully when he dropped by.  “He come in and he drop to sleep and allow him to rest. That was just who he was someone you instantly trusted,” she said.

Manbodh’s fierce personality

Manbodh was known for his fiery personality and sense of justice. He didn’t tolerate being wronged, even from a young age. However, while his family experienced the unfiltered, sometimes fiery version of Manbodh, there was another side revealed after his passing, a softer, more dedicated side that maintained quiet relationships and gave back in his own way.

“Before his passing, we heard so much,” Anderson shared. “Two weeks before he died, he spent the entire day at his old school, Bladen Hall. We didn’t know he kept such close relationships with his teachers.”

It turns out, Manbodh  frequently visited his former school, offering words of encouragement to students. “He encouraged the children, told them to obey their teachers,” said Anderson. “That’s where we got his references from when he needed a referee for a job. I didn’t know he was that kind of young man.

His resilience stood out especially during the physically grueling Fire Service training. “The fire hose is a heavy thing to manoeuvre when you’re digging water,” a colleague noted, but Manbodh never backed down. “Even though he’s a small stature man, the people always reporting that fine man blazing. That’s how he is. Never behind,” the aunt recalled.

That courage was something his family admired but also worried about. “Those are the things I learned to admire about him,” his aunt shared. “Those are some of the same things I feared, because this is a child. We were always a step behind him, you’re catching up to him.”

She said they often felt afraid because he wasn’t. “He didn’t live his life in fear; he was fearless. We were fearful a lot.”

Because of Manbodh’s fearlessness and unwavering dedication to his family, Anderson shared that they are prepared to go to length and breath for him, just as he would have done for them.

“Yes, he would fight,” his aunt said, her voice breaking with emotion. “And in the biggest fight—I felt it too—I still feel it.”

With tears in her eyes, she added, “Do I think I owe him this fight now? Yes. Because he would fight for us.”

Heartfelt memories of  Manbodh

While reflecting on the memories Anderson shared with her nephew, she recalled one moment when she received a gift from him. “He would buy a gift for each one of us.  We had a small video as we were collecting all of his memories over this time. He bought me a pair of slippers and he’s giving me a nice little speech. We used to have these little impromptu things in the yard,” the emotional aunt recounted.

She also recalled moments where he would take care of his grandmother. “He would give her a little speech for her birthday. The week before he passed, he talked about how he cleaned up the place. Run her a hot bath, made her breakfast,” Anderson said.

Manbodh was a good friend

Manbodh wasn’t just another young man with dreams, he was a passionate, fearless, and deeply loyal soul, one who didn’t just talk about justice or friendship—he lived it.

That passion wasn’t reserved just for his ambitions but it extended to the people in his life, especially those he loved.

“Once you’re his friend, that’s it,” his aunt explained. “Like for example, one of his friends had an accident with his bike, and when he was hit, they stole the bike.” Despite his mother’s concerns about potential danger, Manbodh didn’t hesitate. “He got up and said that he going to look for his friend’s bike,” Anderson stated.

The family worried that his loyalty might place him in harm’s way. “We’re afraid for him in the process of looking for the bike… you could get in trouble, join a gang of man who beat up another man… but you can’t dissuade him,” his aunt said. “If he’s on this side here and there’s injustice and it’s not even his business but he will speak out.”

“He wasn’t perfect,” his family admits, “but what he gave, he gave fully. He didn’t know how to give halfway. And if he loved you, he’d ride all the way with you.”

Manbodh last conversation with his family

His aunt ended by reflecting on her final conversation with Voshaun, where he asked her to take care of his grandmother. Although it wasn’t his place to intervene, Manbodh didn’t hesitate to speak up.

“He called to complain that his mother and his aunt don’t give his grandmother enough of a hearing,” she recalled. “It wasn’t his fight… but still, he picked up the phone to speak on her behalf.”

Later the next morning, Manbodh also told her that earlier that day, before he was injured while battling the blaze, he had considered attending an Ash Wednesday service near the fire station.

“He was speaking slowly,” she said. “He told me he had thought about going to a service. I don’t know what was going on around there, I didn’t even see a church, but somewhere nearby, he said he felt drawn to see what was happening.”

She described Manbodh as not particularly religious, but spiritually grounded. “I’m not necessarily saying that he’s the most religious person, but he’s also a praying person,” she said.

Before the fire, he made his way to the mess hall. “He came down, got two bites—his exact words, ‘two bites and one gulp’, and the call came in. And they went out.”

In that moment, she felt that she needed to pray for him, something that she has not in a long time. “I asked his mom to put the phone on speaker. We prayed as a family. And it was angering at first… in our prayer, we asked God to touch everything, every piece of machinery, every nurse, everybody responsible for his care.”

Sadly, when the news came of his passing, the pain was overwhelming. “When I got that news that he died, I was so angry. I said, God, I ask you, you know? We ask you for full recovery, not partial.”

Manbodh’s death as a positive change

In the aftermath of Manbodh’s death, his family has turned their grief into a demand for change.

“All we want is for his legacy to be enforced,” she said. “And foremost: you didn’t do what you were supposed to do. You have to be held accountable. And secondly, his death must be made changes, positive changes immediately.”

She emphasized that reform is necessary, not just in how fire services respond to emergencies, but in how they care for their personnel. “Positive changes in the way fire service, first and foremost.”

While they are not issuing formal demands, she was clear about the depth of their commitment. “We are willing to make that sacrifice. We’re willing to go all that length. Yes, that’s what he meant to us.”

She added, “Every cent we have, we will use it for the truth and accountability.”

And as she recalled their final conversation, one moment continues to echo: “I said to him… you have time. You have life now. And because you have life, that can come.”

Now, in his absence, his family is determined to ensure that his life, fearlessness, bravery and legacy is known to the public and will be used to bring about a positive change.

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