PRESIDENT Irfaan Ali delivered a comprehensive address last Wednesday at the Arthur Chung Conference Centre, the kind of speech students of political science and international development will be unpacking for semesters to come. His words should silence the naysayers, though that is, admittedly, highly unlikely. Those who were listening only for the “magical words” eventually got them, just not in time for the holidays. With clearer heads in 2026, a cash grant, recognising it’s not an economic magic wand, coupled with the promise of more to come over the next five years, will help bolster consumer confidence and help ease the pain of a global epidemic of high inflation.
It is virtually impossible to track consumer spending in Guyana with precision, but anecdotal evidence suggests that many Guyanese are likely to enjoy a better Christmas and New Year this year than they have had in a long time. That, to me, signals an administration confident in its economic roadmap and Guyana’s development trajectory. I am not privy to the government’s private deliberations, but it would be sheer buffoonery to imagine that the achievements of the last five years and the promises outlined in the 2025 manifesto will simply fall from the sky like December rain.
Set aside the five years from 2020 to 2025 and consider just two days – last Thursday and Friday – when President Ali, his ministers and MPs shifted the gears of government from Georgetown to Region Three. What I witnessed left me scrambling for words to describe a framework.
The Ali administration is quietly altering the paradigm of governance in Guyana, one inherited from independence: just as he has taken the presidency out of the office and the State House and located it among the people, so too has he relocated the machinery of government. The aim is to decentralise the delivery of services, a project that depends on altering the dynamics of relationships and accountability up and down the delivery chain.
Two examples come to mind from the outreach. On Friday, the president and Minister Zulfikar Ally opened an office at the West Demerara Mall where Region Three residents can renew passports, apply for driver’s licences and access multiple services without ever setting foot in Georgetown.
Earlier that day, the president stopped at the Leonora Cottage Hospital with Dr Frank Anthony to commission a new X‑ray system to replace an analogue machine decommissioned in 2024. For persons with disabilities and for parents of children in emergencies, such a “small” change is a lifesaver.
Friday ended with a different type of service delivery, the commissioning of the MV Komawaruk 1899, a five-year-old ferry that will boost commerce and connectivity between Regions Two and Three. In the rhythmic beat of the Tassa drummers at Supenaam that came out to welcome the ship’s maiden voyage, you could feel the excitement today of the new tomorrow that President Ali promised.
Decentralisation is already reshaping relationships of accountability, altering how Guyanese see their representatives and what they can reasonably demand of them. I witnessed a president deliberately empowering local policymakers and, in doing so, changing the relationship between citizens and elected officials.
There was Minister Kwame McCoy, arriving in the middle of the morning and returning in the blistering afternoon heat to attend bottom‑house meetings, not on a vote‑hunting expedition, but to listen and solve immediate problems. Minister Oneidge Walrond, too, sat with elders, sometimes in their bedrooms, as if they were the only people who mattered in her world. One bedridden woman said she was excited to have two ministers visit her. She declared that she had no problems, and in her kind and affectionate words, I heard the voice of my own elderly mother. This is what decentralisation looks and feels like at the grassroots.
Decentralisation is shaping service‑delivery outcomes while putting clear responsibility on those tasked with delivering them. In this regard, President Ali leads by example. After addressing the nation on Wednesday, he arrived early Thursday morning for a Cabinet meeting, not at some four‑star resort, but at the sparse Leonora Track and Field facility.
As his ministers fanned out across communities, he flew to Base Camp Stephenson at Timehri to announce a month’s tax‑free bonus for the Disciplined Services and to help serve lunch, an annual tradition. Then on to Leguan, followed by a stop in Wakenaam, meeting hundreds of residents before returning to Leonora as the sun was setting.
Joined by Keoma Griffith, his Minister of Labour and Manpower Planning, along with the Prime Minister and a dozen other ministers, he walked toward a job fair where hundreds had gathered to apply for positions at the soon‑to‑open Wales gas‑to‑energy plant. He sat through the entertainment and mustered enough energy to deliver a 22‑minute address, announcing 300 sustainable, well‑paying jobs for the region and noting that, in a single day, he and his team had engaged with 10,000 residents of Region Three.
Exhausted, I assumed the day had finally ended. I saw a sizable crowd streaming toward the football stadium. I followed, only to discover that it was not for a football final but to watch the president take over the giant karahis, stirring a massive pot of cook‑up rice that, from all reports, tasted as good as the aroma suggested.
That was one day in one region. As I watched, a thought crossed my mind: Azruddin Mohamed had disappeared from the rear‑view mirror of the PPP/C administration, and, one hopes, of the nation. At that moment, I breathed a long, overdue sigh of relief.
DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Guyana National Newspapers Limited.