Fred Mitchell, Chairman of the PLP, continues to publicly criticize attorney Obie Ferguson. His continued commentary exposes a deeper concern—the PLP’s troubling tendency to attach strings to every act of generosity, and worse, to expect unquestioning loyalty in return.

In his most recent remarks, Mitchell basically told Ferguson: “We gave you the prestigious title of King’s Counsel—so be grateful and stay silent.” This statement was not only for Ferguson. It reflected a wider, troubling feeling:

“We have given the people so much. They should take what we offer, be grateful, and keep quiet.”

Is that truly how the PLP views the average citizen? Are titles, contracts, and political appointments simply tools of control—offered not on merit, but on obedience?

Let us be clear: Obie Ferguson’s recent comments about the PLP sparked controversy, yes—but criticism of government is the cornerstone of democracy, not a betrayal of loyalty. Mitchell’s response, however, implies that Ferguson’s KC designation was not purely based on merit. According to Mitchell:

“He denies that [the KC title] was the result of the memorandum of understanding. He knows that is not true. When we met with him and his colleagues, before we discussed any public policy, they asked about giving him a KC. They agreed.

The King’s Counsel title, intended to recognize legal excellence, was in fact a political agreement. This revelation raises significant questions about the PLP’s process for awarding public honours.

Mitchell adds:

“We are not arguing competence here. What we are saying is, when you are speaking truth to power, Mr. Ferguson, you ought to say thank you to the PLP.”

That is not democratic governance. That is conditional allegiance.

This saga reinforces a growing perception: when the PLP gives you something, it is not free—it comes with expectations, with silence, with loyalty. And if you speak out, even truthfully, even respectfully, you risk being chastised and publicly humiliated.

The issue is not Obie Ferguson’s qualifications or his criticisms—it is the PLP’s reaction. It is the party’s willingness to politicize honours, retaliate against dissent, and remind the public that favours come at a price.

No government should expect gratitude as a substitute for accountability. No title should come with a muzzle. No citizen should be silenced for exercising their right to speak.

END

Hold on, because we’re about to take a front-row seat to the greatest magic trick in Bahamian fiscal history — where the illusion of a surplus is stronger than the actual presence of one.

Wait — wait — hold up. So let me get this straight…

The New Day Progressive Liberal Party (PLP) Government — the same folks who rode in on the unicorn of transparency and fiscal responsibility — just told us they’ve delivered the first ever budget surplus. Delivered! As in… they already brought it! Like it’s on your porch with an Amazon sticker on it.

“We’ve delivered a surplus…”

That’s what they said. “We’ve.” Past tense. Like it’s already been baked, boxed, and served. Ding-dong, the economy’s fixed!

But then, like a magician who accidentally sawed his assistant in half for real, they started walking it back. No, no — it’s not that we delivered a surplus, it’s that we will… maybe… hopefully… if all the stars align and nobody sneezes on the calculator.

Enter Exhibit A: Tribune Business, which reported that Prime Minister Davis is touting the first ever budget surplus — not for this year, oh no — for the next fiscal year, 2025/2026. Oh! So… not now. Not even close. Actually, the forecasted surplus was slashed from $448.2 million down to $75.5 million — an 83% drop! That’s not a revision — that’s a fiscal freefall with a parachute made of vibes.

And here’s the kicker: this forecast is based on the hope that revenue jumps nearly 18% next year.

Enter Exhibit B: The Banker with the Bad News Hat.

Gowon Bowe, CEO of Fidelity Bank — and not exactly a wild-eyed radical — basically says:

“Uh… guys? I’m struggling to see how y’all are going to collect $3.88 billion in revenue when you’re not even hitting your current targets.”

Translation: The math ain’t mathin’.

So let us see if we have this correct:

They implied a surplus had already been delivered — it hadn’t.

They predicted a mega-surplus — then cut it by hundreds of millions.

They’re relying on revenue increases that everyone in finance says are unrealistic.

And they’re now rebranding previously zero-rated items as tax cuts.

This is the fiscal equivalent of saying:

“We’ve built the house!”

When what you have actually done is scribble a stick-figure blueprint on a napkin, lit it on fire, and then blamed the wind.

And the most chef’s kiss part of all of this? They act like we’re crazy for questioning it! Like we didn’t just hear what they said. Like we’re the ones being unreasonable for not clapping.

Listen — nobody is saying the entire budget is garbage. Some parts may help Bahamians. But the keystone — the central narrative, the claim of historic surplus — is built on a linguistic sleight of hand, a budgetary dream board, and a prayer whispered into the Ministry of Finance’s air conditioning vent.

And we all know what happens when you pull out the keystone: the whole thing comes crashing down.

You can’t just Jedi mind trick the public:

“This is the surplus you’re looking for.”

No. We’re looking for accountability. And, maybe, a calculator that’s not powered by wishful thinking.

END

Labour Day in The Bahamas — now formally known as Randol Fawkes Labour Day — is not a gift of political patronage, but rather a solemn and enduring tribute to the Bahamian worker. It was established in 1961 through the relentless efforts of The Honorable Sir Randol Fawkes, the only elected Member of the Labour Party in the House of Assembly at the time. Fawkes successfully passed the bill to create a public holiday dedicated to the working men and women of The Bahamas — not to any political party, not to glorify a regime, but to uplift the dignity of labour itself.

This day was always intended as a unifying occasion, a celebration of the sweat and sacrifice of the average Bahamian worker. It was meant to foster solidarity among labourers, transcending divisions of race, party, or class. Yet today, we are witnessing a further distortion of that noble vision.

The PLP has shown itself to be very disrespectful by the politicization of a national legacy. Recent statements by Deputy Chairman of the Progressive Liberal Party (PLP), Obie Roberts, and other party figures indicate an alarming attempt to hijack the Labour Day platform for political purposes. Roberts’ call for party members to “prepare for political war” and his declaration that the PLP will launch its 2026 reelection campaign on Labour Day is not only tone-deaf — it is profoundly disrespectful to the legacy of Randol Fawkes and the working people for whom this day was intended.

It must be emphasized, as history bears out, that the PLP did not create Labour Day. The legislation was introduced and championed by Fawkes a full six years before Majority Rule was achieved in 1967. While it is historically accurate that Fawkes and Independent MP Alvin Braynen supported the PLP after the 1967 general election — thus allowing the party to form the first Black-majority government — this political alliance does not retroactively transfer the authorship or ownership of Labour Day to the PLP.

Indeed, the very renaming of the holiday in 2013 to Randol Fawkes Labour Day was an intentional act of historical correction, seeking to restore credit to the true architect of the day. And yet, in spite of this, the PLP continues to propagate the false narrative that the holiday is their domain — a “gift” from their party. Such revisionism is not only misleading, but it also threatens to erode the collective memory of a critical chapter in Bahamian labor history.

The rightful guardians of Labour Day — the trade unions — have not remained silent. In a principled stand, Trade Union Congress President Obie Ferguson announced that the TUC will not participate in the 2025 Labour Day parade, condemning the PLP’s blatant politicization of what should remain a worker-centered celebration.

Ferguson’s words strike at the heart of the issue: “Labour Day now is a political parade. That’s not what we do.” His commitment to return the focus to workers — by gathering at the House of Labour to discuss critical concerns — it is necessary.

We must not allow political pageantry to drown out the voices of those who built this country with their hands and their sacrifice. Ferguson’s stance is courageous, and it deserves commendation, not scorn, even some may now question his motives.

Labour Day is not a partisan platform. It is not a rallying point for campaign slogans, nor is it a symbolic battleground for political might. It is a day of reflection, unity, and gratitude — for the Bahamian worker, and the man who stood for them when no one else would: Sir Randol Fawkes.

To attempt to recast this national day in party colors is to desecrate its meaning. It is a betrayal of the very principles it was founded on — and those responsible should be held to account by the historical record, no matter who they may be.

In times like these, we must remember that history is not merely a tool of power, but a guardian of truth. And the truth is clear: Labour Day belongs to the people — not the PLP nor any other political organization.

END

Prime Minister Philip Davis has made it clear—he expects the Bahamian people to follow his government blindly on the sale of the Grand Lucayan resort, all while refusing to share the details of the deal. When asked whether the reported $120 million is in the bank, Davis simply said, “Wait and see, I don’t need to get into those details.”

This is deeply troubling. Davis previously scrapped the Heads of Agreement left by the FNM, claiming it was not in the best interest of The Bahamas. Now, we the people are simply asking to see whether this new agreement meets that standard. That’s not politics—it’s accountability.

Instead, the Prime Minister chastises critics and tells us to unite behind a project we know nothing about. Unity does not mean silence. Working together does not mean following blindly.

No, Mr. Prime Minister, THE PEOPLE will not close their eyes and hope for the best. We want this project to succeed—especially for Grand Bahama—but success cannot be built on secrecy. If “something is happening,” then why can’t the people know what it is?

This isn’t about political fodder—it’s about trust, transparency, and respect. Unfortunately, the PLP continues to fail in these areas. And that failure is not a coincidence—it’s a pattern.

END

Fred Mitchell—the ever-enlightened chairman of the “New Day” Progressive Liberal Party (PLP)—delivered yet another voice note dripping with the usual cocktail of ignorance, condescension, and unearned self-satisfaction. It was classic Fred: petty, self-important, and completely devoid of introspection. He never disappoints, even when you’re hoping he might.

This time, he took aim at Opposition Leader Michael Pintard, chastising him for daring to request the details of the newly signed Heads of Agreement for the Grand Lucayan resort. You see, according to Mitchell, if Pintard really wanted answers, he simply should have shown up to the signing—because apparently, that’s when transparency happens in the PLP’s fantasy world.

Let us be clear: Mitchell, in his usual arrogant tone, mocked Pintard’s absence from the event, referencing Martha’s rebuke of Jesus for dramatic flair—as if comparing himself and the Prime Minister to biblical saviors is not totally unhinged.

“If only you had bothered to show up,” Mitchell scolded, “you would have heard the details. You could have mingled with investors, with your constituents… but you weren’t there.”

The sanctimony! The reality, of course, is far more sinister.

Let’s put aside the fact that the government invited Pintard to the event—as they should, given that he’s Leader of the Opposition—and focus on what actually happened: The government then refused to answer questions from the press about the deal. That’s right. When journalists attempted to ask Deputy Prime Minister Chester Cooper about the terms of this so-called “billion-dollar investment” that will allegedly lift the Grand Lucayan from albatross status, they were promptly shut down. So much for transparency.

So, Mitchell’s logic [if we dare to call it that] boils down to this: show up, smile for the cameras, and absorb the details via osmosis—because questions will not be tolerated. That’s how the New Day PLP government does it. Don’t expect a press release, a fact sheet, or public access to the Heads of Agreement. No, no. Apparently, you’re supposed to pick up the fine print between the hors d’oeuvres and the ribbon-cutting.

But here’s the real question: What about the rest of us? You know, the taxpayers—the Bahamian people—who foot the bill and who deserve to know what this government is signing on their behalf? Why must we wait for leaks or court battles, as we did with Baha Mar, to get the truth? After all, Mitchell and Prime Minister Davis were both involved in that fiasco, too. That deal is still mired in secrecy and litigation. Lessons learned? Not quite.

Let’s not forget: it was this very PLP administration that cancelled the original HoA for the Grand Lucayan, claiming it wasn’t in the best interest of the Bahamian people. Now, they ask us to trust them blindly on this new deal, refusing to release details, as if the people are simply spectators in their own democracy.

Heraclitus once said; “No man ever steps in the same rive twice. For it’s not the same river and not the same man” a testament to constant change—but with this New Day PLP, it’s not just the same river, it’s the same old muddy water. The “New Day” Progressive Liberal Party (PLP) has turned out to be the same old PLP, right down to the secrecy, the smugness, and the disdain for accountability.

So here’s a radical idea: Prove the Opposition wrong. Prove the public wrong. Release the details. Let the Bahamian people decide for themselves whether this deal is truly in their best interest—or just another backroom arrangement dressed up with golden promises and photo ops.

Until then, spare us the biblical parables and political theater. We’re not here for the sermon—we want the facts.

The Progressive Liberal Party (PLP) fails for one reason; it is their nature.

END

In a stunning display of political contradiction and rhetorical recklessness, Prime Minister Philip Davis has once again doubled down on his disparagement of Free National Movement (FNM) Leader Michael Pintard, this time by belittling the legitimacy of Pintard’s career in the creative arts.

According to The Nassau Guardian article titled “On the Attack: PM Doubles Down on Pintard Criticisms,” the Prime Minister dismissed Pintard’s contributions as a poet and actor, questioning his readiness to lead the country based on what Davis portrayed as a lack of “real” work experience. “Pintard has done well with his poetry and acting,” Davis posted on social media, only to follow it with a condescending rhetorical jab: “But what has he done to help others?”

Davis didn’t stop there. He sneered, “What has he ever built? What has he ever managed, outside of press conferences and political complaints?” He went on to frame his own legal career as the only valid example of responsibility and leadership, claiming, “That’s a real job. That’s real responsibility.” Even more degrading was his attempt to recast Pintard not as a poet, but “a parrot… who repeats what powerful people want to hear.”

What is especially egregious about Davis’ remarks is that they stand in direct contradiction to the very economic vision he championed while in opposition. When crafting the platform for the Progressive Liberal Party’s (PLP) “New Day” campaign, Davis himself heralded the Orange Economy — an initiative aimed at leveraging the cultural and creative sectors as a means to diversify the Bahamian economy. This included explicit commitments to support, fund, and grow the arts — the very sector in which Pintard has long worked.

In fact, according to the Inter-American Development Bank (IDB), the Orange Economy encompasses industries such as visual arts, music, film, publishing, and performing arts — all areas where Pintard has demonstrably contributed. The IDB and UNESCO have continuously emphasized the Orange Economy’s value, particularly for small island developing states like The Bahamas, where culture is not just a pastime but a viable, exportable economic asset.

So one must ask: Does Prime Minister Davis actually believe in the Orange Economy he once touted, or was it a hollow talking point designed to score temporary political favor? Because if he genuinely believed in the legitimacy of the creative industry, he would never attempt to discredit a Bahamian who has built a life within it. To do so is not only hypocritical — it is intellectually dishonest.

Furthermore, the Prime Minister’s assertion that his government provided the first-ever subvention to the Dundas Centre for the Performing Arts is misleading. While it may be the first formalized annual subvention in recent years, it is well-documented that successive governments — including FNM administrations — have supported the Dundas and other cultural institutions through grants, partnerships, and in-kind assistance.  This is a matter of public record and has been acknowledged in cultural policy reports over the last two decades.

In reducing the value of creative work to little more than a footnote — while simultaneously using it as political ammunition — Prime Minister Davis has not only insulted Michael Pintard but also cast doubt on the worth of every Bahamian who earns a living through cultural expression. These are musicians, playwrights, filmmakers, designers, and other creatives who are told, through Davis’ comments, that their work is not “real.”

This descent into what Davis himself once condemned as “garbage juice politics” is disappointing. As Prime Minister, he is expected to set a higher standard — one grounded in coherence, respect, and an acknowledgment of the contributions of all Bahamians, regardless of profession.

If Davis no longer believes in the Orange Economy, he should say so plainly. But if he does, he cannot continue to deride its practitioners just to win a political skirmish. Leadership requires more than oratory and legal success; it requires consistency, vision, and — above all — respect for the people one claims to serve.

The question now is not whether Pintard had a “real job,” but whether Davis still has any real conviction.

END

The New Day Progressive Liberal Party — always ready for a photo-op, a podium, and a punch line. After signing what they gleefully declare as a “historic” Heads of Agreement, they waste no time turning to the Bahamian people with their trademark smugness: “See? The FNM doesn’t care about you — because if they did, they would have done this too!”

Yes, bravo. Let’s all slow clap.

Because here’s the part they leave out: this “monumental” deal they are now waving like a victory flag is built on the ashes of the very same Heads of Agreement the PLP themselves cancelled when the Minnis administration signed it. You remember that, right? Of course they hope you don’t. But this isn’t progress — it’s political recycling. Or as Public Enemy put it best: “Don’t believe the hype — it’s a sequel.”

And now, the Prime Minister, full of pep and paranoia, is rallying his party to get “battle ready.” He sounds like a general prepping his troops — minus the actual courage to face real scrutiny. We have now heard this battle cry multiple times, each one louder than the last. One might almost think he is more worried about “friendly fire” from within than any real threat from across the aisle.

Yes, Prime Minister Davis wants unity — not because the party is united, but because he is clearly concerned it’s falling apart. All this talk of “gossip” and “backbiting”? That’s not a leader brimming with confidence. That’s a man plugging leaks in his own boat, hoping the crew doesn’t mutiny before Election Day.

But let’s get to the real comedic gold: Davis standing at the mic, pretending to be above it all, only to swing low and petty, asking “What real job has Michael Pintard ever had?”

Secret Squirrel, Really? That’s your best line? Because if we’re tossing resumes around, maybe we should ask: what exactly have you built? What have you managed — apart from PR disasters and fuel scandals? And while we’re at it, shall we list the controversies you’ve presided over like some national hobby?

And then there’s Fred Mitchell — always lurking, always laying the groundwork for the next fiction that will be fed to Grand Bahama and the rest of the country. Yes, rally the troops! Not for truth, not for vision — but for the next well-crafted mistruth. Because apparently, the strategy is simple: accuse your opponent of doing exactly what you just did, and hope no one notices.

Let’s be real. The PLP is not positioning itself as the savior — it’s cleaning up the very mess it made, repackaging it as salvation. Just look at Bahamas Power and Light: another crisis born under their watch, now being spun as “we’re fixing it.” How generous of them — to solve problems of their own creation.

And as for the latest whisper campaign? That Pintard is some puppet for “special interests of a lighter hue”? That’s not just offensive — it’s lazy. It’s the oldest play in the book, dusted off and dressed up for a desperate rally.

So yes, the Prime Minister wants his party “battle ready.” But based on the recycled deals, petty insults, and internal cracks showing through, one might ask: what battle? Because from here, it looks like the only fight Brave Davis is truly committed to… is holding his own party together.

END

Well, isn’t this rich.

In a moment that can only be described as impressively tone-deaf, the Hon. Wayne Munroe, Minister of National Security, has once again taken to the airwaves—not to console, not to lead, not to empathize with Bahamians who have lost everything—but to lecture them about how they apparently do not understand how fires work.

Let us be clear: residents of Victoria Court, some of whom narrowly escaped with their lives, say it took over two hours for help to arrive as flames devoured their homes. That is not a small delay. That is not a “misunderstanding.” That is a catastrophe compounded by negligence. But instead of contrition or even concern, what we got from the minister was a master class in misdirection, finger-pointing, and condescension dressed up in a tailored suit.

According to Mr. Munroe, the fire services had to “position assets to guard against what could have been a catastrophic event.” You would be forgiven for thinking a massive residential fire was not catastrophic in itself.

And then came the kicker. In a moment that would almost be funny if it were not so outrageous, the minister appeared to suggest that the response to Victoria Court was not prompt because Bay Street had to be prioritized. Yes, Bay Street. As in the empty commercial corridor. At night. Over a residential complex full of actual human beings. We suppose storefronts and vacant boutiques have now leapfrogged Bahamian families on the list of “lives and property worth saving.”

What exactly is Mr. Munroe suggesting here? That the optics of a scorched Bay Street matter more than the reality of 20+ people burned out of their homes? That protecting real estate investments and old colonial storefronts is somehow more urgent than dragging a fire hose to a burning bedroom?

To quote the minister directly:

“The fire service is concerned about more than Victoria Court.”

Yes. Because God forbid the fire chief concerns himself with the people literally screaming for help while watching their homes burn. The nerve of them.

Let’s also not miss the verbal gymnastics here. One minute, Munroe claims the fire trucks were on the scene within eight minutes. The next, he tells us a truck from the airport eventually arrived—and didn’t even have water. That sounds less like a timely, coordinated response and more like improvisational theater on a flaming stage.

Then came the defense of the indefensible:

“If people are talking about when they started to deal with Victoria Court, they may be absolutely correct.”

Wait, so you’re admitting it took hours to deal with the actual structure that had people inside it? But it’s fine, because “Bay Street didn’t burn”? Are we supposed to send thank-you notes for that?

Let’s be honest: this isn’t really about fire strategy. It’s about accountability. The minister says it’s not fair to “denigrate” the fire service—but no one’s denigrating the rank-and-file firefighters. What people are denigrating is a system that left citizens waiting two hours for help while bureaucrats try to explain away the disaster in real time.

And this thing about “having the resources to cover 20 fires at once”—Minister, we are not asking for 20. We just wanted one competent response to one very real emergency. If you had the resources you claim, you wouldn’t be on radio scrambling to justify triage decisions that left Bahamians on the street with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

So here is a thought, Minister Munroe: instead of gas lighting grieving residents, maybe next time just say, “We failed, and we are working to fix it.” Because this is not clever spin. It’s not strategic public relations, it’s insulting.

And frankly, the public deserves more than your disdain disguised as defense.

— End.

“Today in ‘Hey, What the Hell Is That Supposed to Mean?’ — something that I just made up — we turn our eyes to the beautiful Bahamas., a paradise known for its crystal-clear waters, junkanoo rhythms, and now… spontaneous combustion.”

 ‘Bahamas Burning: The Hot New Trend’ Here’s the story: according to a May 2025 article in The Nassau Guardian, Press Secretary Keishla Adderley — who I’m sure is a lovely person trying her best in an impossible job — made a bold statement on behalf of the Office of the Prime Minister during a weekly press briefing. Her message was one of comfort. You know, in the “Sorry your house is gone, but we’re working on it!” kind of way. The headline read: “Govt working to acquire more firefighting resources, OPM says.” Which, I mean, working to acquire is the kind of phrase that lives in the same family as currently under review, looking into it, and soon come.

Then we get this quote from the press secretary: “Efforts to acquire additional fire equipment began long before those fires.” Ah yes, a classic. The preemptive emergency plan that coincidentally has no timeline, no results, and no physical evidence of existence. Like the Chickcharney, but with more procurement paperwork.

She then added: “From my understanding, there are at least 20 major pieces of equipment that are being sourced to cover New Providence and the Family Islands.” Now, I am just a humble occasional newsman with an occasional news desk — but let me ask the obvious question here: What does “being sourced” mean? Because last I checked, “being sourced” is code for “we Googled a few vendors and someone sent us a brochure.” And if the acquisition already began “long before those fires” — a noble claim — then why are the fire trucks still in theory and not, you know, on actual roads putting out actual fires?

So, let’s do a quick breakdown: The OPM claims acquisition started “long before” the fires. Fact check: [UNCONFIRMED] — No date provided, no records made public, no evidence offered.

 They are “sourcing 20 major pieces of equipment.” Fact check: [TRUE-ISH] — they are looking for them, not buying them. This is like saying you’re planning your wedding while still waiting for a reply from your Tinder date.

The public is being told the government is on it — but the only thing we know for sure is that… they’re on something. Now look, I’m sure there’s a very simple explanation here. Maybe the trucks are coming in on the same invisible boat as the affordable housing, the Bahamas Power & Light stability plan, and the long-lost National Development Plan. But here’s a humble question from the smoke-filled rooftops of New Providence, Abaco, and Grand Bahama: When exactly did this acquisition start, and what phase of “sourcing” are we in? Because until then, all we’re really doing is setting expectations ablaze… without a hose in sight.”

END

As the Free National Movement (FNM) and the Bahamian public call—once again—for accountability and transparency, the Progressive Liberal Party’s (PLP) so-called “New Day” government has responded not with facts, not with clarity, but with a now-familiar brand of political gas-lighting. According to the Office of the Prime Minister (OPM), those daring to ask for the transparency the PLP promised are now being labeled as—“unpatriotic.”

You heard that right. Wanting to know what’s in a billion-dollar energy deal that affects every Bahamian household is, in the eyes of this government, unpatriotic. We’ve seen this political theatre before, haven’t we?

Let’s rewind to 2016—“PM: No secrecy over Baha Mar,” they claimed. Perry Christie, then Prime Minister, infamously declared that there was “nothing secret” about the Baha Mar deal, even as he simultaneously insisted he couldn’t disclose anything about it due to so-called “legal sensitivities.” Lawyers, he said, had advised him to keep Bahamians in the dark. At the same press conference, Christie lashed out at critics, questioning their fitness for public service simply because they asked questions about a multi-billion-dollar deal funded by foreign banks and impacting Bahamian jobs and tourism.

Sound familiar?

Fast-forward to 2025. Today, it’s Bahamas Power and Light (BPL). And once again, the PLP government—now led by Prime Minister Philip “Brave” Davis—is dodging transparency like it’s an infectious disease. The FNM, led by Michael Pintard, has called for the immediate release of the BPL contracts. The government’s response? Recycle the same tired excuse: “We can’t disclose the deals—it might affect negotiations.” How very convenient.

This time, it’s U.S.-based Pike Corporation handling a major chunk of the work, and the deals are supposedly not finalized. Yet the company is already on the ground, working. So if the contracts are so fragile they’d crumble under the weight of public scrutiny, how were they strong enough to sign off on, let alone implement?

Let’s be clear; The PLP government isn’t shielding these details for strategic purposes—they’re shielding them because transparency exposes power, and this administration would rather condescend than come clean.

In a laughable attempt at deflection, the OPM issued a statement claiming the FNM is only asking questions because they “aren’t afraid the reforms won’t work; they’re afraid they will.” That line is so rich in deflection it should be taxed. The Bahamian people are not afraid of success. They are afraid of secrecy, sweetheart deals, and unchecked political maneuvering dressed up as national progress.

They are afraid of déjà vu—of Baha Mar 2.0. A billion dollars for BPL, with undisclosed terms, foreign partners, and a governing party acting like public scrutiny is an act of treason.

This isn’t governance. It’s a Broadway revival of a bad play—and yes, we’ve seen this act before.

So no, Mr. Prime Minister. The demand for transparency is not “unpatriotic.” It is the essence of patriotism. It is what responsible citizens do in a democratic society. What’s unpatriotic is trying to silence dissent by equating questions with sabotage.

Transparency isn’t just a promise—it’s a duty. And if this New Day government can’t or won’t deliver it, then perhaps it’s time we dim the lights on this show entirely.

The Progressive Liberal Party fails for one reason, it is their nature.

END