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Articles, letters and other publications by Christopher Ram
Mr. President,
On 21 July in an Open Letter, I asked two things of you. You granted the first, a period of national mourning. That is appreciated. The second was that you establish an independent Commission of Inquiry under the Guyana Shipping Act, 1998. That request has neither been granted nor refused. It has been passed over in silence.
Yesterday, the Prime Minister said that the Government had not yet considered the role of the Opposition in the Commission of Inquiry. Today, Demerara Waves reported that you announced that you would name five commissioners tomorrow. This letter is written tonight, before you do so, and intentionally so.
I have read the terms of reference reported in Demerara Waves. Strong on the details: the loading; the boarding; seaworthiness and maintenance; compliance with maritime law; conduct and competence of the master and crew; the weather; the rescue efforts. Without exception, every one concerns the night of 18 July. Not one concerns the years before it. Your Commission will inquire exhaustively into a voyage without asking why that voyage was made in that vessel at all.
The MV Kalliopi N arrived in May, two months before the disaster. She is new, built for this service, and was assigned by your own Public Works Minister to this very Region One route. She lies at her berth still, awaiting a date for a commissioning ceremony convenient to you. Throughout those two months an eighty-seven-year-old hull built in 1939 carried our people to Port Kaituma, Morawhanna, Kumaka and Mabaruma, because she was their only lifeline. Your Minister has since called it unfortunate that the Barima went down before she could be replaced.
And what became of the earlier expectation that the MV Ma Lisha, commissioned in 2023 at some twelve point seven million United States dollars, would relieve the Barima of this service? If that was never her purpose, the country should be told what she was bought for while the North West kept a hull built for a long past era.
None of this was misfortune. These were decisions, taken by identifiable people who had new ships in the water, a designated route, and a river transport budget running into billions of dollars this year. Nothing in your ToR permits the Commission to examine them.
Please bear with me while I raise with you a few issues before you name the Commissioners tomorrow.
Two undertakings are also owed: that the report be published in full by a stated date, and that Minister Edghill and the Director General of MARAD stand aside while the Commission sits, and attend and answer before the Commission. You have no doubt read that the Minister of Education in India resigned over the leaking of exam papers. I am sure you recognise the principle and the contrast.
And one direction that cannot wait. Every record touching this vessel – all the documentation required under Part XVIII – including surveys, certificates, manifests, maintenance logs, deficiency notices, and the files on the Ma Lisha and the Kalliopi N sit tonight in the institutions to be examined. Official accounts of how many were aboard have already varied. I ask that you now direct that nothing is removed, altered or destroyed, and that all be secured in independent custody. A government with nothing to hide loses nothing by giving that direction.
These documents are not merely material for your Commission. They are evidence in civil proceedings which the bereaved are entitled to bring, and the duty to preserve them arises now, not when a writ is filed. Their loss, alteration or destruction would carry consequences in any such proceedings, and for those responsible.
Finally, Mr. President, please reflect on this. A new ship sat at her moorings waiting for you. In its stead, an old one sailed without you and did not come back, with more than one hundred innocent and unsuspecting lives lost. The least the country and its Chief Citizen owe them is a full and independent investigation. Guyana has had inquiries whose findings the country never read, and inquiries that reached no higher than a junior officer. The Rodney Commission came thirty-four years too late, and its report was repudiated by the government that received it. Mahdia reported after the parents had already been made to sign. This one must serve the dead and not you, your Administration or your party.
You may grant what I have asked. You may refuse it. What you cannot do, after tonight, is say that you were not asked.
Respectfully,
Christopher Ram
Georgetown, Saturday 25 July 2026
Mr. President,
The sinking of the MV Barima is, I believe, the worst maritime tragedy in our country’s history. Families have been devastated. Parents have lost children. Children have lost parents. Scores of ordinary Guyanese have perished. Survivors have endured unimaginable trauma. Every Guyanese shares their grief and extends heartfelt sympathy to all whose lives have been changed forever.
In times of grief, the nation expects leadership. In the hours immediately following the tragedy, Guyanese looked to the Government for clear information, decisive action and reassurance that every available resource had been mobilised. Instead, there was uncertainty, confusion, conflicting reports and official statements that raised as many questions as they answered. Attention appeared to shift too quickly from discovering what had happened to defending official action. That only added to the tragedy.
In any national disaster, Government’s first obligation is to activate a machinery capable of minimising further loss of life and damage to property, coordinating rescue efforts, providing timely and accurate information to anxious relatives – including through a dedicated hotline and ensuring that the public receives information that is accurate, consistent and credible. Only then can Government turn to the equally important task of establishing the truth.
That is precisely why Parliament enacted the Guyana Shipping Act, 1998. It recognised that when lives are lost in rivers or at sea, the search for truth cannot be left to official assurances or political debate. The Act itself is an elaborate piece of legislation establishing a statutory framework governing maritime safety, regulation and the independent investigation of marine casualties. It also separated the operation of vessels from their regulation by establishing the Maritime Administration as the country’s maritime regulator. My cursory reading of the Act is that it has been systematically ignored in practice. But that is a matter for another forum.
As the nation comes to terms with the scale of this tragedy, disturbing questions arise.
* Was the Barima properly maintained and operated by the Transport and Harbours Department?
* Had the Maritime Administration discharged its statutory responsibility to regulate and oversee the vessel’s safety to protect lives and limbs of passengers and crew?
* Were the vessel’s inspections, surveys and certificates current and fully compliant with the law?
* Had the Maritime Administration identified any deficiencies and, if so, what corrective action was required and taken?
* Did the Transport and Harbours Department comply with every statutory requirement governing passenger safety?
* How did the Minister, who bears responsibility for both the operator and the regulator, satisfy himself that each had properly discharged its separate statutory responsibilities?
* Did failures of operation, regulation, supervision or enforcement contribute to this disaster?
I ask you not to regard these as political questions. They are legal and factual questions, and we deserve and expect honest and factual answers.
The purpose of an independent investigation is not to assign blame before the evidence is heard. It is to ensure that the evidence is gathered independently, examined objectively and reported publicly. That is how confidence is built. It is also how future tragedies are prevented.
Mr. President, public confidence does not exist in a vacuum. Many Guyanese still carry unanswered questions from previous national tragedies, including the Mahdia Dormitory Fire which cost the lives of twenty of our children. There is a widespread perception that official investigations too often fail to satisfy the reasonable expectation that every relevant fact will be exposed and every lesson learnt. Against that background, the handling of the Barima tragedy assumes even greater significance.
There is another matter that deserves urgent attention.
Our maritime legislation still contains penalties that belong to another era. Conduct capable of exposing passengers to grave danger attracts fines that are derisory by modern standards. In an era when Guyana has become one of the fastest-growing economies in the world, such penalties neither deter misconduct nor reflect the value that our society places upon human life. That is a matter for Parliament to correct.
But where statutory penalties are inadequate, the responsibility of the State becomes correspondingly greater. The families of those who perished are entitled not merely to sympathy but to justice. If regulatory failures contributed to this tragedy, legal accountability cannot end with outdated fines imposed upon individuals. It must extend, where the law and the evidence justify it, to the public authorities charged with protecting those who entrusted their lives to the nation’s transport system.
Mr. President, the Barima must not be allowed to become another national tragedy remembered only for grief and unanswered questions. It should be remembered as the moment when your Administration demonstrated, by action rather than words, that in Guyana the rule of law is stronger than official convenience, party interest and the protection of personalities. The families of the victims deserve the truth. The people of Guyana deserve accountability. History will remember whether your Administration chose official reassurance or independent scrutiny.
I therefore respectfully urge you to declare an appropriate period of national mourning in honour of those who lost their lives. Thereafter, and without delay, to establish an independent Commission of Inquiry under the Guyana Shipping Act, 1998, and to allow it to discharge its mandate completely independently, free from interference or influence of any kind.
That, I believe, is the surest way to honour the dead, comfort the bereaved and restore public confidence in the administration of justice.
Respectfully,
Christopher Ram
Column 194 – The Resource Curse Begins on a Farm (Part 2)
In Column 193, I argued that the controversy surrounding President Irfaan Ali’s farm at Long Creek is not fundamentally about agriculture. It is about governance in an oil-producing state. It raises questions that no presidential video, however polished, can answer. Those questions belong to independent institutions.
But Long Creek did not arise in isolation. It is the latest manifestation of a style of governance that has become increasingly evident during President Ali’s administration. The issue is not simply the acquisition or operation of a farm. It is whether Guyana’s institutions of accountability have kept pace with the extraordinary concentration of political and economic power that has accompanied the country’s petroleum transformation.
Every presidency leaves an institutional legacy. Some strengthen Parliament, reinforce the rule of law and enlarge the space for independent oversight. Others centralise authority, weaken scrutiny and leave institutions less capable of performing their constitutional functions. It is against that standard that every presidency should be judged, including this one.
The record is troubling.
Parliament, the central institution of representative democracy, has become progressively less effective as an instrument of accountability. The Public Accounts Committee, historically one of Parliament’s most important oversight mechanisms, has ceased to play the role contemplated by the Constitution and the Standing Orders. Public accounts have remained outstanding for years, depriving Parliament and the public of timely scrutiny of the expenditure of billions of dollars of public money. Parliamentary sittings themselves have become infrequent, often convened principally to facilitate the Government’s legislative and financial agenda rather than to provide sustained scrutiny of executive action.
Equally significant has been the weakening, or failure to strengthen, institutions specifically intended to hold the Executive to account. The previous administration established the State Assets Recovery Agency as part of a wider accountability framework. The Ali administration repealed that legislation and abolished the Agency. Whether SARA was effective is open to debate. Eliminating an accountability institution rather than reforming it sent an unmistakable signal about the direction of governance.
The promised Petroleum Commission has likewise failed to materialise. That omission is difficult to reconcile with the scale of Guyana’s petroleum sector. Every major oil-producing nation recognises that technical regulation should not rest exclusively within central government. Guyana, despite repeated commitments, continues without the independent regulator that has long been promised.
The same concerns arise in relation to access to information. A democracy cannot function effectively if the disclosure of information depends upon executive goodwill rather than enforceable legal rights. Yet the Office of the Commissioner of Information has never assumed the prominence or effectiveness that Parliament intended. Transparency remains more an aspiration than an institutional reality.
Perhaps no institution better illustrates the failure to modernise accountability than the Integrity Commission. Guyana is no longer the country it was when that legislation was enacted. The economy has been transformed by petroleum wealth, sophisticated corporate structures and unprecedented opportunities for the accumulation of assets. Yet the disclosure regime remains substantially frozen in time.
The declaration form itself is wholly inadequate for a modern petroleum economy. It is neither a comprehensive disclosure instrument nor a true statutory declaration attracting the ordinary legal consequences of sworn statements. It occupies an uncertain space between the two. More remarkable still, despite almost three decades of profound economic change, successive governments have failed to modernise it. If Guyana is serious about integrity in public life, the law requires more than cosmetic adjustment. It requires fundamental reform.
These institutional weaknesses matter because they coincide with the expansion of executive discretion in matters involving immense public resources.
Silica City is a striking example. Presented as one of the country’s flagship development initiatives, it has attracted commitments involving billions of dollars. Yet the public has received little comprehensive accounting of expenditure, procurement, implementation or measurable outcomes. Public confidence cannot be sustained where projects of such magnitude proceed without regular and detailed public reporting.
Long Creek therefore assumes a significance that extends well beyond the President’s private affairs. The question is not whether President Ali is entitled to own a farm or engage in agriculture. He is. The question is whether the Head of State, exercising enormous constitutional authority while simultaneously pursuing substantial private commercial interests, should be subject to disclosure standards more exacting than those applicable to ordinary citizens. The answer must surely be yes.
That is particularly so because the Presidency does not end when a President leaves office. The law provides substantial continuing benefits, recognising the enduring dignity and importance of the office. Those public privileges reinforce the need for rigorous conflict-of-interest rules and comprehensive disclosure obligations. Private commercial interests must never be allowed to collide with public office and authority, without transparent safeguards protecting both the office-holder and the public.
The issues raised in these two columns concern the architecture of constitutional government in a country rapidly developing by oil wealth. While the general rule is that every administration builds projects, only some leave behind stronger democratic institutions than they inherited. Future Presidents will inherit the institutions being shaped today. If those institutions are independent, resilient and capable of scrutinising executive power without fear or favour, President Ali will have made a lasting contribution to Guyana’s democracy. If, however, they emerge weaker, more dependent or less capable of holding the Executive to account, that too will become part of his legacy.
History’s verdict on President Ali will rest not only on the prosperity generated during Guyana’s first oil boom, but on whether he strengthened the institutions that protect the Republic or weakened them when they were most needed. If the verdict is the latter, Long Creek will be remembered not as a controversy over a farm but as the moment when Guyana’s Resource Curse ceased to be a theory and became both a constitutional and an institutional reality.
Finally, obvious as it is, it is still worth noting that a President governs not only by constitutional authority but by personal example. If legitimate questions about his own conduct remain unresolved through independent institutional scrutiny, his moral authority to demand the highest standards from Ministers, public officials and the wider public is inevitably weakened.
That is not only sad. It will be self-inflicted.
Dear Editor,
For a columnist who does not usually respond, Peeping Tom has spent the past several days doing little else. In each of his offerings he has attempted to address the points I raised concerning President Ali’s farm. Tom either considers the matter serious, or he is troubled by the implications of what I wrote. Either way, we are agreed that it is no small thing.
I am told that my analogy is false; that a farm is not a crime scene; that on my reasoning every owner of a refrigerator must account for himself. I have to admit, I did not see the one about the refrigerator coming. But since he has a problem with Phala, I offer an example with some notable parallels – Nkandla. That involved the homestead of South African President Jacob Zuma. There were no missing dollars; no currency in the furniture; no stolen money; no criminal proceeds; no suspicious transaction – all elements which Peeping Tom tells us are the indispensable threshold. What it had, on 13th December, 2011, was a complaint from a member of the public, asking the Public Protector, under an Act by that name, to establish whether a newspaper report was true. A citizen wanted to know if what was published in the press was accurate. Two years earlier, the Presidency had met a similar report with a denial that State finances were used. There was unsubstantiated explanation. There were no documents. The reader may find the arrangement familiar.
The Public Protector investigated anyway. She was not obliged to prove anything first; she was obliged to find out. What she found – that the President had knowingly derived undue benefit from a swimming pool, an amphitheatre, a cattle kraal and a chicken run built at the State’s expense, on works whose cost had escalated to over R215 million – was the product of the inquiry, not its precondition. Zuma did not accept it. It took the Constitutional Court to hold, unanimously, that her remedial action bound him. He repaid R7.81 million.
Now apply Peeping Tom’s test. In December 2011 there was no credible evidence at Nkandla – only a newspaper article and a citizen’s question. On his reasoning the Public Protector had no business lifting a finger, and nothing would ever have been repaid. Yet that same inquiry cleared Zuma on one count, accepting that he had spoken to Parliament in good faith and finding no breach of the ethics code on that count. That is what inquiries do – they exonerate as readily as they indict. It is the President’s friends, not his critics, who should want one, for an inquiry is the only thing that can convert an assurance into a finding. Instead, we are offered the assurance and denied the inquiry.
Nor is this my invention. In The Public Protector v Mail & Guardian Ltd 2011 (4) SA 420 (SCA), the Supreme Court of Appeal upheld the setting aside of a Public Protector’s report – not because he had investigated without evidence, but because he had not investigated at all. The argument made on his behalf will be familiar: that the journalist had produced no evidence contradicting the Director-General, had not shown why his word should be doubted, and that a man of high office could not be questioned merely because a journalist disbelieved him.
Nugent JA gave it short shrift. Truth and deceit, he said, know no status or occupation. The hallmark of that failed investigation was that responses were sought from people in high office and “recited without question as if they were fact”, and an investigator in that state of mind is no more than a spokesman. There is no justification, the Court added, for telling the public it must accept that nothing improper occurred merely because nobody has proved the contrary. The investigator is not there to decide whether an onus has been discharged. He is there to be sure.
The same Court said something else that Tom should read. The politicians who asked for that investigation had no independent knowledge of anything. They had read the newspaper. That was enough, for as the Court held, a request for an inquiry must not be scrutinised as if it were a pleading.
Tom is right that a farm is not the offence, and that the circumstances surrounding the object are what matter. That is my point exactly. The circumstances here are that twenty acres of State land were leased to a man who is now Head of State, by a man who is now his Vice President; that the acreage is disputed between the President and the Leader of the Opposition; that the financing, the approvals and the tax treatment rest on assertion alone; and that beyond the lease unearthed by this newspaper, the President has produced not a single document. Tom mistakes the asking for the alleging. He has done so in every column, and I begin to suspect it is not a mistake. Nor is he finished: several of my points remain untouched, and at his present rate we may look for them by the weekend. I only hope he is not crowding out the other Toms. I am told there is more than one.
And let me save him some trouble. If a letter should shortly appear over a name we have not met, making these same points in this same order – that questions are not evidence, that he who asserts must prove, that an inquiry is a fishing expedition – the reader will have read it already, and will know what he is reading. I say no more than that.
Tom tells us that institutions worthy of the name should pursue facts. On that we agree entirely. My suggestion is for the process to begin.
Christopher Ram
Dear Editor,
In its column of Saturday July 11, Peeping Tom proceeds on a simplistic proposition. He argues that my call for a Commission of Inquiry into President Ali’s agricultural enterprise amounts to a “fishing expedition” because I have raised questions rather than produced evidence of wrongdoing. That is an attractive slogan. It is also a false premise.
He treats me as though I have accused the President of criminal conduct. I do no such thing. My position has been consistent. Where legitimate questions arise concerning the conduct of the holder of the highest constitutional office in the Republic, particularly where those questions relate to a substantial private enterprise operating in a sector directly affected by Government policy, those questions deserve independent verification. That is not an allegation of guilt. It is a constitutional principle.
In invoking concepts such as burden of proof and prima facie evidence, Peeping Tom conjures up a courtroom in a criminal trial. He is too clever not to recognise that the issue is accountability, not criminality. In doing so, he treats the President as though he were merely an ordinary businessman defending a private investment. Ali is no ordinary businessman. He is Head of State, Head of Government and Chairman of Cabinet. The Government over which he presides allocates State lands, formulates agricultural policy, grants tax concessions, administers environmental laws and exercises enormous executive authority. The standard of transparency expected of such an office-holder must necessarily be higher than that expected of private citizens.
Curiously, after devoting an entire column to my letter, Tom never addresses the questions themselves. He does not tell us how or when the additional lands were acquired, or the sources of his massive borrowings. Or whether all the necessary environmental approvals were obtained before development commenced. Or whether the President declared his personal interest before permanent tax concessions benefiting agriculture were introduced. Nor does he tell us of the financial implications of those concessions for the enterprise, the terms on which it was financed, or whether every statutory obligation has been fully discharged. Or whether his farm income, not being part of his “official emoluments”, is declared on his annual tax return, and taxes paid.
If Tom knows the answers, he should publish them. If he does not, he should still say whether he accepts that the Guyanese public has a right to the know.
Instead, he advances the remarkable proposition that because these questions remain unanswered, they should not be independently examined. That turns accountability on its head. He also suggests that because the President first acquired twenty acres some fifteen years ago, much of the controversy evaporates. It does not. The issue has never been the original twenty acres. It is the development of what is now a substantial agricultural enterprise by a sitting President exercising the highest executive authority in the State. The chronology answers none of the questions concerning the acquisition of the additional lands, the financing of the enterprise, the regulatory approvals, the tax concessions or the management of possible conflicts of interest.
Finally, Peeping Tom devotes considerable attention to explaining why a Commission of Inquiry may not be the appropriate mechanism. Reasonable people may differ on that question. If another genuinely independent process exists that can command public confidence and answer these questions transparently, I would welcome it.
My concern has never been the label attached to the investigation. It has always been the independence of the investigation. The President’s explanation deserves to be heard. It does not deserve to become the investigation, the evidence, the findings and the verdict.
In the new Guyana, where public office now carries unprecedented economic significance, the people of Guyana are entitled to nothing less.
Christopher Ram