Could be the day of the have nots

Sep 01, 2025 Features / Columnists, The GHK Lall Column

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Kaieteur News – The verbal pyrotechnics should be over by now. On this day of hope, and the days to follow, may that be the only kind; and not foreshadow anything else.

There has been no other election season to match this one. Where I stand, as evaluated from afar. There was enough to cause squirming, some screaming, too, if the self-control wasn’t there. Now it is Monday, September 1st. The day of decision has come for every citizen above 18. Toddlers haven’t cast their ballots yet, have they? It could be a day of reckoning also for all Guyana. To what and to where? To who or with who in the lead is of less concern to me. There is a bundle of hopes, with all coming back to one place.

After all the great talk about economics and civics and politics, after all the hysterics and antics, what is the issue that stands before? What is in it for me? I have had my share of courtships, but have never heard so many sweet promises made so solemnly in so short a time. What is in it for me? How am I going to be, is the concern on the minds of all Guyanese? The definition of Guyanese is fitting here: the have nots. The day of the have nots will have dawned. Or it could be like that other ugly national humiliation called domestic violence that stalks Guyanese, but of which there is so little care. Actually, doing something, any little something, that changes such dynamics, introduces new beginnings that alter those circumstances.

Amid that bundle of hopes mentioned earlier, there are doubts. Am I going to make it this time? Amidst all the boasts about who cares more than whom, there is that still unsolved mystery -who really cares for me? It was said sixty years ago, then six ones ago, and I am still where I have always been, near the garbage pile. The arrival of oil had the potential to make so much difference. Like so many other issues and developments that are about potential in Guyana, the potential of oil to contribute to significant change in the lives of ordinary Guyanese has been unrealized. Whenever politicians and potentials are mentioned in the same breath in Guyana, that most disappointing of verbs takes up permanent residence. Unrealized. Unfulfilled.

Something is wrong with this picture being shared. There is that sense. Amid the anticipations, there are doubts, there have been disillusions. How can that be possible, considering this country’s abundant gifts? Given how much was in hand, the postman only paused at the gate to say, sorry no mail today. Just like last week and last month and last year have been. But those now rank as ancient times, forgotten in the lavish swirls of glittering promises. Today is about today, and what comes beyond. There should not be a sliver of disillusion or doubt, not when there is anticipation of daily oil production approaching almost a million barrels soon. For in this time of anticipation, there’s the specter of starvation; and the actual gnawing pangs of that condition on a daily basis.

For all the aforementioned reasons, it is why today represents more than the exercise of the franchise, the blandness of elections. Today is when Guyanese get to choose the kind of destiny that they want as part of their visions. The inheritance of rich assets is present, so it should be a cakewalk, that part about visions coming to life. The powers that be have failed repeatedly the world over to deliver a perfect society, and one immediately. And that’s from time immemorial, and Guyana is not in that category. Put men around certain gifts and they transform to bats racing to get out of hell. The grim man-in-the-street and the woman looking at an empty gas bottle that cannot be refilled, with an unfinished meal and a hungry brood, this is their day. The choice is simple. They can continue to participate in an upside-down existence (like bats); or they can take charge of their future (like champs). Either way a certain fate is sealed by their own hand. Take a stand.

I depart with an analogy Guyanese at the bottom of the economic ladder should be able to identify with: poor men and women of all colors have packed up and left, often without so much as a goodbye. They leave house, land, family, job (if they have) and start over from the bottom of the bottom in strange lands, and they make it. There is the courage and state of mind to venture out. E-Monday 2025 is such a day: stay as is; or do something about it. It’s the day of the have nots. They can come into their own, finally.

(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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• Election, have nots, verbal pyrotechnics

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