Opportunity and the illusion of escape from poverty

May 21, 2025 Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

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Peeping Tom…

Kaieteur News- From all accounts, Guyana is awash in opportunity. It pulses from every page of the economic reports, drips from the lips of politicians and the captains of industry and commerce.

True, there is oil beneath the sea, sand above the ground, timber in the forests, and gold buried in the earth’s deep belly. Construction is booming – a new road here, a port there, a factory over yonder—and soon, the chorus begins again: there is too much opportunity in Guyana for people to still be poor.

It is a comforting thesis. It suggests that poverty is no longer a structural condition but a moral failing, a reluctance to hustle. That the only thing standing between a man and the exit from impoverishment is his own inertia. If only he would rise at dawn, apply himself diligently, and pursue one of the many glittering opportunities strewn like breadcrumbs along the national path, he would, in time, ascend.

But this theory, coated in cliché, deserves to be turned gently on its head and examined with care. For it rests on a series of dangerous assumptions. Chief among them: that opportunity, in and of itself, is a cure for poverty.

Let us consider what we mean when we say ‘opportunity.’ Is it any job, of any type, for any wage? If so, the country is indeed abundant—with construction work, security posts, portering, sales girls and boys, domestics and various forms of manual labour that leave the body weary and the bank account bare. These may fill the days, but they do not fill the pockets. They are jobs that circle poverty rather than rise above it, and when the sun sets, the man who took them is still staring into the mouth of need.

There are, of course, opportunities of a more ambitious kind—those tied to the burgeoning oil and gas sector, to high-valued jobs, to specialized trades. But these are often capital-intensive and skill-dependent. A man cannot simply show up at an oil rig and ask for a job. He needs certification, experience, sometimes a degree—things not so easily acquired in a country where the education system fails half its students each year.

We are told that education is the gateway to prosperity. Yet in Guyana, the gateway is rusted. Children fall through the cracks like coins slipping between sofa cushions. Many leave school unable to read proficiently, count confidently, or communicate effectively. Ask the very private sector which likes to boast about the abundance of opportunities. School leavers are asked to pursue opportunities in an economy increasingly shaped by high technology and which demand qualifications which they do not have. And when they fail to keep pace, they are blamed—not the system that failed them.

And even where the opportunity exists, and even where the skills are present, one must ask: who holds the keys? In many sectors, opportunity has been captured. Large firms dominate the space, whether in construction, retail, or resource extraction. Licences, contracts, and access are concentrated in a few hands, and the playing field is rarely level. For a small business owner, a farmer, a trader, or a technician, opportunity can often feel like a party to which they were not invited. Try applying for a government contract and find out in the corridors what needs to be done to win these contracts.

Opportunity, in this context, is like a ladder leaning against a high wall—but the first rung is missing, the second slippery, and the top obscured. To suggest that the mere presence of a ladder means everyone should already be over the wall is to mistake possibility for accessibility.

The danger of overstating opportunity is that it turns poverty into a personal indictment. The poor are seen not as victims of an uneven field but as refusers of a golden ticket. The conversation becomes less about reform and more about reproach. Yet poverty is not a matter of bad choices—it is often the result of having no good choices at all.

Opportunity is not static. It must be cultivated, made inclusive, and matched to the needs and realities of people. A man who has never owned a computer cannot be expected to write code. A woman living in rural Guyana cannot afford to get to the city to grab an opportunity of her heart’s desire. A child who goes to school hungry will not master algebra. To speak of opportunity without speaking of conditions is to traffic in illusions. That is the cruel reality that our politicians do not wish to face.

The notion that poverty should no longer exist in a land of opportunity is both cruel and convenient. It relieves the powerful of responsibility, and the rest of us of empathy. But opportunity is not a cure; it is a tool. And tools require hands that know how to use them, and a society that puts them within reach.

Until then, we would do well to speak of poverty not as a stubborn relic, but as a pressing reality—and of opportunity not as a panacea, but as a promise yet to be fulfilled.

(The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of this newspaper.) 

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