Cash grant and old age pension tourism

May 21, 2026 Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

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(Kaieteur News) – There was a time, not too long ago, when some – not all – overseas Guyanese approached Guyana with caution, disgust and the occasional handkerchief pressed dramatically to the nose. They came down from New York and Toronto with accents that had ripened in exile, and with suitcases swollen with vitamins, sanitary wipes canned salmon, mosquito repellents and superior opinions.

Some of them spoke of Guyana as one speaks of a disappointing relative. Someone embarrassing, but impossible entirely to disown.

They would land at the airport already aggrieved. The heat offended them. The roads insulted them. The mosquitoes appeared to them politically motivated. They complained about drainage, customer service, blackouts, potholes, noise, litter and what they called “the mentality.”

And yet, for all their criticism, they possessed a curious attachment to the country. This attachment resembled an uneasy fascination of a man continually returning to inspect the ruins of a family estate.

But most amusing of all was their attitude to old age pension.

They spoke of it with a kind of pity. They converted the figures into U.S. dollars with the speed and precision of cambio dealers. “Only US$100 a month?” they would exclaim, widening their eyes as though hearing of a famine somewhere in the interior of Guyana. “How people surviving on that?” They asked the question loudly, in rum shops and airport lounges, while ensuring everyone nearby heard the conversion rate.

Never mind that the pension was non-contributory. Never mind that it was available to every resident Guyanese over sixty-five regardless of income. Never mind that poor countries do poor-country things because they are, after all, poor countries.

Many of these overseas Guyanese — not all, but enough to form a recognizable group — enjoyed mocking the pension because it allowed them to dramatize their own success abroad. They spoke endlessly of the barrels they sent home, the remittances wired every month, the sacrifices made “in foreign.” The old people in Guyana, one gathered, would have perished entirely were it not for the benevolence of relatives in Queens and Brooklyn.

And then came oil.

Oil changed the mood. Guyana, once pitied, became interesting. Then profitable. Then desirable.

Now a Minister announces with satisfaction the rising numbers of arrivals into the country. It sounds impressive, almost triumphant, until one examines the numbers more closely. For what is bringing many of these long-absent sons and daughters rushing home is not nostalgia, not cultural longing, not some rediscovered love for pepperpot and local fish.

It is the cash grant.

G$100,000 has achieved what decades of patriotic appeals could not. It has summoned home thousands who once behaved as though Guyana were an unfortunate administrative error in their family history.

Suddenly the commercial banks are overflowing. One cannot open an account without encountering lines. There are overseas-based Guyanese everywhere, clutching documents, utility bills, birth certificates and expired passports. Some appear at the banks with the urgency of prospectors arriving at a newly discovered gold field.

And the enthusiasm does not end there.

There is now a frantic hunger for Guyanese passports. Children born in foreign hospitals — children who until recently could scarcely locate Guyana on a map — are now being transformed into proud Guyanese descendants with astonishing speed. Passports are pursued not as symbols of identity but as instruments of financial access.

The comedy deepens with old age pensions.

Many overseas-based Guyanese know perfectly well they do not qualify because the pension is intended for residents. But Guyanese ingenuity has always flourished where bureaucracy is weak and opportunity plentiful. As the local saying goes: wiser the government, smarter the population.

So, some arrive on their American or Canadian passports, quietly obtain new Guyanese passports, and register themselves for pensions. Since they depart again using the foreign passport, the Guyanese records do not properly show their exit. Officially, they remain in Guyana, elderly patriots faithfully residing in the homeland while physically shopping at Walmart in Brooklyn.

Meanwhile the pension travels obediently each month into local bank accounts.

It is a deeply Guyanese arrangement: half comedy, half scandal, sustained by paperwork and silence.

One imagines these pensioners abroad checking their Guyanese bank balances with the same seriousness once reserved for U.S. Social Security. The very pension they mocked years ago has now become sufficiently attractive now.

This is not to condemn all overseas Guyanese. Many remain deeply loyal to Guyana. Many sacrificed enormously for relatives here and continue to contribute meaningfully to national life. But there is undeniably a particular species of emigrant whose relationship with Guyana alters dramatically once money begins flowing in the opposite direction.

When Guyana was poor, they mocked its poverty. Now that Guyana has money, they rediscover citizenship with almost religious fervour. Some of them who never came back for 25 years are now discovering that Guyana was always their true love.

The tragedy — or perhaps merely the comedy — is that countries often reveal character not during hardship, but during sudden prosperity. Oil has not merely enriched Guyana; it has exposed people. It has revealed who loved the country when it was struggling, and who loves it now that it is paying dividends.

And somewhere, in a crowded bank line in Georgetown, a man who once sneered at “that lil pension money” waits patiently to collect it.

(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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• cash grant, Old Age Pension, Peeping Tom, Tourism

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