THE leader of the opposition has now given what purports to be a full, first-hand account of the night of his arrest. It was long on theatre and short on the one thing that mattered most.
We heard about the parent who called to report a falling school gate. We heard about the vehicle that had supposedly sat parked at the Aiden Hotel for a year.
We heard that he diverted to Narine’s house because police were parked there, a waste of resources he felt a constitutional duty to investigate. We heard of shots fired, of being followed, of hands raised in surrender, of threats, and of 24/7 surveillance. It was a thriller, delivered by the hero.
What we did not hear was a single word about being “beaten, kicked, stomped upon.” There was no mention of the “visible bruising and bloodshot marks” that a lengthy statement from his own Office had spelt out, and that his sisters repeated on camera.
If a man had truly been stomped upon by police, it would surely be the centrepiece of his account. Instead, the claim that dominated the early narrative has quietly evaporated.
The omission demands an explanation. The statement came from his office, so the injuries were not a rumour. His sister said employees of that constitutional office were assaulted too. Importantly too, the diplomatic brief, which was shared with selective media outlets, that also claimed police brutality.
A leader of the opposition who believed this would announce charges against Narine and the officers involved.
He would lodge a complaint with the Police Office of Professional Responsibility, which his constitutional duties would arguably oblige him to do. He did neither. When a claim is made loudly, then dropped without comment once the microphone is in the right hand, the public is entitled to ask whether it was ever true.
This is not an isolated lapse. The WIN camp’s record is one of assertions made with confidence and abandoned without apology. Consider the episode of the boat, which was presented to the public as evidence of wrongdoing until Demerara Waves highlighted that the vessel had already been damaged.
A story that seemed damning collapsed on contact with basic reporting. No correction followed, and the camp simply moved to the next grievance.
That is the pattern: allege dramatically, let the story spread, and then hope that no one checks and that the retreat goes unnoticed.
Each new claim arrives with the same urgency and the same indignation, as though the previous ones had never been made or quietly buried. Supporters are expected to remember the outrage and forget the walk-back.
Opposition politics requires scrutiny of the police, and the abuse of power, where it exists, must be exposed. But that work is only credible when the person doing it is honest.
Every exaggerated or abandoned claim makes it harder to believe the next one, including the ones that may be true. If there were injuries, show them and file the complaint. If there were not, say so, and say why the claim was made.
Until then, the leader of the opposition is asking the country to trust a story whose most serious chapter has gone missing. A politician who cries wolf this often should not be surprised when the public stops looking up.