There was a time when Philip “Brave” Davis had a very clear explanation for the Bahamas’ debt problem.

It was the Minnis administration.

Hurricane Dorian.

COVID-19.

Poor fiscal management.

Excessive borrowing.

Too much spending.

In fact, when the PLP came to office in September 2021, Davis repeatedly portrayed the country’s finances as a fiscal disaster inherited from the FNM.

And to be fair, there really was a fiscal disaster.

The COVID-19 pandemic had devastated tourism revenues, while Hurricane Dorian had caused damage exceeding 25 percent of GDP. The IMF itself acknowledged that Dorian and the pandemic substantially worsened the country’s fiscal position.

So yes, there were legitimate reasons for the debt explosion.

But here is the inconvenient part.

That was then.

Today, the hurricanes are not being used to close the borders. The pandemic is not shutting down the tourism industry. Hotels are operating. Cruise arrivals are at record levels. Government revenues have improved.

And yet the borrowing continues.

According to the government’s own Debt Management Office, central-government debt reached approximately $12.466 billion at the end of June 2026, an increase of $696.9 million in just one year. Public-sector debt was even higher, at approximately $14.6965 billion.

So, when The Nassau Guardian reports “Govt adds $700m in debt,” this is not some opposition invention.

It is sitting in the government’s own numbers.

And here comes the delicious irony.

The same political administration that spent years telling Bahamians that the previous government had to be held accountable for borrowing during a national emergency now wants Bahamians to admire its fiscal discipline while almost $700 million is added to central-government debt in one year.

Apparently, debt is only dangerous when somebody else is borrowing it.

Welcome to PLP Mathematics

Remember the $75 million surplus?

The government projected a $75.5 million overall surplus for FY2025/26. But by the end of March 2026—the first nine months of that fiscal year—the country was carrying a $157.3 million fiscal deficit. The government nevertheless maintained that the full-year surplus could still be achieved.

And, for clarity, that $75.5 million was a projection, not a final audited result.

Meanwhile, the new FY2026/27 budget has moved the goalposts again, projecting a $223.1 million surplus.

One might therefore be forgiven for wondering whether Bahamian fiscal policy has become less about arithmetic and more about faith.

Perhaps the formula is:

Spend + borrow + transfer + refinance = surplus.

And if the numbers don’t quite cooperate?

No problem.

Just move the decimal point, add a forecast, invoke economic growth and ask everyone to remain confident.

It is a rather remarkable system.

And Then There Is Beaches and Parks

Which brings us to the Bahamas Public Parks and Beaches Authority.

This is where the government’s fiscal-management story becomes particularly difficult to explain.

The authority had an approved budget of $29 million for the entire 2025/26 fiscal year.

By December 31, 2025, it had already spent $25.18 million.

In other words, after only six months, it had consumed approximately 87 percent of its entire annual allocation.

That should have set off every fiscal alarm bell in the Ministry of Finance.

Instead, the Treasury subsequently advanced another $18.7 million in loans to the authority between January and June 2026—$8.4 million in the third quarter and another $10.3 million in the fourth.

So let us understand this.

An authority receives a $29 million annual budget.

It spends $25.18 million in six months.

It then requires another $18.7 million in government loans.

And we are expected to believe that this is somehow compatible with a government boasting about fiscal discipline?

No, not again.

Where Is the Accountability?

The problem is not simply that Beaches and Parks spends money.

Government agencies are supposed to spend money.

The problem is that Bahamians deserve to know why the spending repeatedly exceeds expectations, where the money is going, what was delivered for it and who is being held responsible when budgets are blown.

Reporting by The Tribune in April noted that the authority had spent more than $141 million through December 2025, while audit reports that had been promised had not been publicly released.

That is the part that should concern taxpayers.

Because a government cannot demand more taxes from the Bahamian people in the name of fiscal responsibility while simultaneously treating budget overruns as though they are merely suggestions.

If an authority repeatedly exceeds its allocation, the answer should not automatically be:

“Here is another cheque.”

The answer should be:

“Show us the books.”

The Slush-Fund Question

And this is where the political hypocrisy becomes almost theatrical.

When Davis was in opposition, he lectured the FNM about spending, debt, accountability and the need to demonstrate a return on borrowed money.

In 2023, as Prime Minister, Davis himself declared that debt incurred by government should have a “sufficient return on investment” and criticized the previous administration for borrowing without enough to show for it.

Excellent principle.

But principles become rather less impressive when they are applied only to the opposition.

If $18.7 million more has to be borrowed for Beaches and Parks, the public deserves a simple explanation:

What exactly are Bahamians receiving for that $18.7 million?

And more importantly:

How does an authority with limited revenue-generating capacity repay the loans?

Those aren’t political questions.

They are accounting questions.

Tax Us, By All Means — But Show Us the Receipt

The government has now introduced new mechanisms intended to improve tax administration and collection.

There is nothing inherently wrong with that.

As the old saying goes, render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s.

But there is another principle that governments sometimes conveniently forget:

Caesar should be able to explain what he did with the money.

You cannot continually tell Bahamians that they must pay more, comply more, register more and contribute more while government entities appear unable to control expenditure.

The public should not be expected to live by austerity while government agencies operate on the philosophy of:

“Don’t worry, Treasury will find it.”

And perhaps that is the real difference between the FNM debt argument of yesterday and the PLP debt argument of today.

When Minnis borrowed during Dorian and COVID, Davis demanded to know:

Where did the money go?

Today, Bahamians are entitled to ask Davis the same question.

Only now the question comes with a rather inconvenient sequel:

Where is the money going—and why are we borrowing more of it?

Because if the Bahamas can supposedly have a surplus while adding nearly $700 million to central-government debt in a single year, perhaps the real national shortage isn’t money.

Perhaps it is accountability.

And when Beaches and Parks can burn through almost an entire year’s budget in six months and then receive another $18.7 million in loans, perhaps the country doesn’t have a revenue problem after all.

Perhaps it has a “don’t ask too many questions” problem.

But Bahamians are asking.

And they should keep asking.

Because the government’s money isn’t government money.

It is the people’s money.

And unlike a Rolex, Cartier, Tiffany, Louis Vuitton or UGG purchase, taxpayers don’t get to return it when the receipt doesn’t add up.

The PLP once demanded answers about the debt.

Now it is the PLP that owes the country some.

The Commonwealth of The Bahamas deserves better.

END

The July 22 Nassau Guardian report describing the Bahamian economy as being on a stable growth path should not be treated as proof that every sector of the economy is functioning efficiently. In fact, developments immediately afterward expose a significant vulnerability: an economy cannot sustainably grow if one of its most basic productive inputs—reliable electricity—remains unreliable.

What the evidence shows

The IMF projected real GDP growth of about 2.2% for 2026, following estimated growth of 2.8% in 2025. It also specifically identified electricity-sector reform as important to sustaining growth and improving the cost and reliability of power.

Then, within days of the July 22 economic-growth story, the Bahamas Chamber of Commerce warned that businesses across New Providence and the Family Islands were suffering financial losses from persistent outages. Restaurants, grocery stores, pharmacies, manufacturers, retailers and service providers reported closures, lost sales, payment-system failures and spoiled inventory.

That matters economically for several reasons:

1. Lost electricity becomes lost GDP.
When a restaurant closes for several hours, it doesn’t simply lose electricity—it loses meals sold, wages paid during productive hours, sales tax generated and income that would otherwise circulate through the economy.

2. Businesses incur costs even when they remain open.
Generators require fuel and maintenance. Employees may have to be paid overtime to recover work delayed during outages. Refrigerated businesses face spoiled inventory. The Chamber has specifically reported these consequences.

3. Productivity falls.
A business that should complete 100 units of work but can only complete 70 because of repeated interruptions has experienced an effective reduction in productive capacity. The problem becomes particularly serious for manufacturing, technology, professional services and businesses dependent upon electronic payment and communications systems.

4. Tourism becomes vulnerable.
The Bahamas’ economic growth is heavily dependent upon tourism. An unreliable electricity system raises operating costs for hotels, restaurants, attractions and other tourism businesses. The IMF has already identified electricity costs and reliability as important factors affecting investment and competitiveness.

5. Investment decisions are affected.
This is perhaps the most important long-term issue. Central Bank Governor John Rolle cautioned in July that it was premature to conclude that the summer outages had already materially reduced overall economic growth. But he also acknowledged that the cost of energy is a factor in investment decisions and competitiveness.

That distinction is crucial.

It is entirely possible for the Central Bank to say, “We don’t yet have evidence that the outages have materially reduced GDP,” while simultaneously acknowledging that unreliable and expensive electricity is damaging the country’s investment environment.

The warning from the IMF is particularly significant

The IMF’s own research provides some historical context. It found that more than 80% of Bahamian firms experienced power outages in 2019/20, compared with 67% across the Caribbean. Those outages occurred about three times a month and were associated with an estimated 2.5% loss of annual sales for affected firms.

So, the economic question isn’t simply:

“Did the July/August 2026 outages reduce GDP?”

The more important question is:

“How much economic growth is The Bahamas failing to achieve because businesses cannot depend on the electricity system?”

Those are two very different questions.

The July 22 headline versus the August reality

This is where the political and economic contradiction becomes interesting.

On July 22, the story was essentially: the economy is on a stable growth path.

By July 28, the Chamber was reporting businesses closing, customers being turned away and inventory being spoiled because of power outages.

By July 31, the Central Bank was saying it was too early to quantify the impact of the outages on overall economic growth.

And by August, BPL was still issuing updates concerning extended outages affecting areas and islands around the country.

That creates an important analytical point:

The absence of measured GDP damage is not the same thing as the absence of economic damage.

GDP statistics are backward-looking and aggregate. A small business owner who loses $5,000 in spoiled inventory, a restaurant that closes for an afternoon, or a contractor who loses a day’s productivity may feel the economic impact immediately—even though the national GDP statistics may not yet capture it.

The bigger problem: confidence

There is also a less visible economic cost.

Businesses make investment decisions based partly on whether they can predict their operating environment. If an investor has to ask:

• Can I operate eight hours a day reliably?
• Do I need to purchase a generator?
• How much fuel will I have to keep on hand?
• What happens to refrigerated inventory?
• Can my customers pay electronically during an outage?
• Will my employees be productive?
• Will outages affect hotel guests and tourism customers?

then electricity becomes more than an operating expense.

It becomes an investment-risk calculation.

That is precisely why the IMF has described electricity reliability and cost as a constraint on private-sector growth.

The uncomfortable conclusion

The July 22 “stable growth” narrative may be economically defensible at the macro level, particularly because tourism, construction and major investment projects continue to support the economy.

But it would be misleading to interpret that headline as evidence that the underlying economy is without serious structural problems.

The IMF’s 2026 projection is only 2.2% real GDP growth, and the IMF expects growth to moderate toward roughly 1½% over the medium term.

Against that relatively modest growth trajectory, persistent electricity disruptions are particularly dangerous.

If businesses are losing operating hours, inventory, productivity and sales, then the country isn’t merely experiencing an inconvenience.

It is potentially destroying some of the very economic activity it is trying to grow.

And that raises the most important question for the Davis administration:

If the economy was supposedly on a stable growth path on July 22, how stable can that growth really be when businesses cannot depend on the electricity required to produce, sell, communicate, preserve inventory and serve customers?

The government’s economic scorecard cannot simply measure how much GDP grew.

It should also ask how much growth was lost because the infrastructure necessary to produce that GDP failed.

That is the real economic test of the electricity crisis.

The Bahamas deserves so much better.

END

“I laid out what I perceive to be the issues, and they will be dealt with” – Prime Minister Davis regarding the energy crisis that The Bahamas is currently experiencing.

I find this statement very troubling because then one must question if the prime minister is addressing the truth or the truth as he perceives it?  This differentiation could be a problem.

That word matters.

Because there is a difference between describing what you perceive to be the problem and acknowledging what citizens are actually experiencing.

Bahamians do not have to perceive a blackout.

They know when the lights go off.

They know when the food in the refrigerator spoils.

They know when a business cannot operate.

They know when elderly people, children and vulnerable residents are left without air conditioning in extreme heat.

They know when generators become necessities rather than conveniences.

And they certainly know when the electricity disappears while the government is telling them that the system is being transformed.

With this statement, Prime Minister Davis seems to be telling the country that he does not see things as being as bad as the people experiencing them claim that they are because he apparently perceives the blackouts as a minor setback to the citizens that actually suffer through the, each and every day.

The country has been dealing with repeated outages across New Providence and the Family Islands. In June, Energy Minister JoBeth Coleby-Davis acknowledged that officials had underestimated the severity of the outages. Earlier that month, she had maintained that BPL had sufficient generation capacity for the summer.

And then came more outages.

By August, Grand Cay residents had endured prolonged interruptions, while other islands and communities continued experiencing unreliable electricity. The crisis became serious enough for the Prime Minister to address the nation on August 17.

The lack of empathy by the prime minister in light of all of this was totally unacceptable.

And, in a moment of almost perfect political symbolism, some residents were actually experiencing another outage while the Prime Minister was explaining the country’s electricity crisis.

You really couldn’t script it.

The lights were out.

The Prime Minister was talking about why the lights were out.

One would have figured that after the power went off seconds into the national address by Prime Minister Davis, that he would be more empathic toward the citizens of The Bahamas that elected him to his second consecutive term, but this does not seem to be the case.

“PM on BPL Crisis ‘The buck stops here’” – The Tribune

Excerpt from this article; “PRIME Minister Philip “Brave” Davis yesterday defended Energy Minister JoBeth Coleby-Davis amid questions over her relative silence amid ongoing controversy at Bahamas Power and Light (BPL), declaring that “the bucks stops here”.

Mr Davis made the comments after touring schools with Education minister Chester Cooper, where he was questioned about the fallout from BPL’s allegations of overtime abuse, its unions’ work to rule mandate, and the silence of the minister responsible for the electricity provider.

Mr Davis said: “The buck stops here, and that’s the answer you’ll give to those who are concerned about whether she is quiet or not.”

The prime minister also declined to comment on whether members of BPL’s management would be held responsible for the alleged abuse of overtime hours.

But he said he was not concerned about the work-to-rule action.

“I gave a national address on the subject matter. I laid out what I perceive to be the issues and they’ll be dealt with,” the prime minister.

So, now we have Prime Minister Davis telling us that “THE BUCK STOPS HERE” [with him], and it is a good thing that he finally realizes this but the question is exactly what does he perceive it to be and why when questioned about the state of the power crisis here then refuse to answer any questions?

Is it time for him to actually begin to show true leadership and do what it actually takes no matter the fall out or does he perceive this to be what he counted on to get elected and then re-elected – “likeability”?

Right now, only time will tell but how but more must the citizens of The Bahamas suffer while he shows us exactly what this means?

The Commonwealth of The Bahamas deserves better.

END

There are few things quite as entertaining in our Bahamian politics as Fred Mitchell lecturing the country about the evils of the Free National Movement (FNM) while standing on a piece of political history that the FNM itself helped create.

Today, August 19, Fred Mitchell would apparently like right-thinking Bahamians to regard the election of the FNM government in 1992 as some sort of “National Day of Infamy”.

That is quite a performance.

Especially from a man who, although never an FNM member, entered Parliament in 1992 because FNM Prime Minister Hubert Ingraham appointed him to an independent Senate seat. Mitchell served in the Senate from 1992 until 1996/97 before eventually joining the PLP and winning election to the House.

So here we are, three decades later, watching the Chairman of the PLP attempting to turn August 19 into something resembling a national crime scene.

Apparently the FNM’s greatest historical offence is that it won.

And apparently Mr. Mitchell’s first parliamentary appointment is to be treated as an unfortunate clerical error because without it he would probably still outside of parliament burning constitutions.

Mitchell describes the FNM’s 1992 victory as a day that “lives in infamy.”

One almost expects the next sentence to begin:

“Previously, on Days of Our Political Lives…”

But before we allow the Chairman to rewrite the history books, perhaps we should read a few of the pages he would rather have us skip.

Yes, the FNM changed the direction of the country in 1992.

Yes, reasonable Bahamians can debate the merits and consequences of individual FNM policies.

Yes, the International Persons Landholding framework remains a legitimate subject for criticism and debate.

But here is the inconvenient part for Mr. Mitchell’s historical sermon:

The PLP has had ample time to change policies it believes were disastrous.

The FNM did not remain in office for the next thirty years.

The PLP has governed for substantial periods since 1992, including the present administration.

So, if the land policy is responsible for today’s problems, the obvious question is not merely:

“Why did Ingraham do it?”

It is:

“Why hasn’t the PLP fixed it?”

At some point, blaming a government from the last century becomes less an explanation and more a substitute for governing.

Then comes BTC.

Mitchell presents the privatization of BTC as though Hubert Ingraham wandered into the Cabinet one morning, spotted the national telephone company and announced:

“Let’s sell that.”

History is slightly less theatrical.

The Ingraham government completed the privatization of BTC in April 2011, selling 51% to Cable & Wireless for US$210 million.

And, rather inconveniently for today’s political mythology, the government’s stated plan included offering shares to Bahamians so that the public could participate in ownership. Ingraham told Parliament that the government intended to sell approximately 9% of the shares to the Bahamian public.

That does not mean everyone must agree with the BTC sale.

It does mean that honest political debate requires something more than selecting the portions of history that fit neatly into a press statement.

And there is another little historical wrinkle.

The privatization process did not originate in a political vacuum. Ingraham said the government had concluded that privatization and liberalization were necessary to improve telecommunications, after years of considering different arrangements.

So, by all means criticize the transaction.

But criticize it with the facts.

Mitchell also invokes the destruction of Bahamian agriculture.

Fair enough.

Agriculture deserves serious discussion.

But if the PLP wants to present itself as the permanent guardian of Bahamian farmers, perhaps the public is entitled to ask a wonderfully simple question:

After all these years, where is the agricultural revolution?

Where is the dramatic reduction in the nation’s dependence on imported food?

Where is the corresponding reduction in grocery prices?

Where is the transformation that ordinary Bahamians can actually see when they walk into a supermarket?

BAMSI can be discussed.

Government expenditure can be discussed.

Programs can be discussed.

But eventually the conversation has to leave the conference room and arrive at the grocery counter.

Because the Bahamian consumer doesn’t eat press releases.

And then we arrive at the port.

According to Mitchell’s argument, the FNM’s legacy includes handing the country’s principal seaport over to a handful of families and contributing to monopoly pricing.

Yet when the cruise industry generates record or increased passenger numbers, governments are perfectly happy to celebrate the economic benefits.

One begins to wonder whether the port is a national disaster or an economic triumph depending upon which microphone is switched on.

Perhaps it can be both.

But again, political honesty requires acknowledging the complexity rather than converting history into a morality play with the FNM permanently cast as the villain.

The really delicious irony in Mitchell’s speech is that he wants Bahamians to believe that August 19, 1992, should be remembered principally as the beginning of everything that is wrong with The Bahamas.

Except that August 19, 1992, was also the beginning of Fred Mitchell’s parliamentary career.

That is not an opinion.

That is history.

The FNM won.

Hubert Ingraham became Prime Minister.

And Fred Mitchell received an independent Senate appointment from the government he now describes with such extraordinary contempt.

Politics can produce some remarkable transformations.

Apparently one of them is the ability to receive a parliamentary appointment from a government and, three decades later, describe the election that produced that government as a day that “lives in infamy.”

That is some Olympic-level political gymnastics.

Mr. Mitchell concludes:

“Let the FNM rest in peace. Amen.”

But that may be the one part of his speech that requires correction.

The FNM is not dead.

It is a political party.

It has won elections.

It has lost elections.

It has made mistakes.

It has accomplished things.

It has been criticized.

It has been praised.

And, most importantly, it remains part of Bahamian democratic history.

August 19, 1992, cannot be erased because Fred Mitchell finds the anniversary inconvenient.

The FNM’s victory ended 25 consecutive years of PLP government under Lynden Pindling. That fact alone makes the date historically significant.

One does not have to support the FNM to acknowledge that.

And one certainly does not have to pretend that everything the FNM did was perfect.

But neither should we allow politicians to turn their version of history into a political weapon by demanding that the public forget the inconvenient parts.

So perhaps, before Fred Mitchell asks Bahamians to remember August 19 as a day of infamy, he might take a moment to remember something else:

The FNM government he now wants the country to despise was the same government that opened the door to his first seat in Parliament.

That little historical footnote doesn’t quite fit the sermon.

But then again, inconvenient facts rarely do.

And if the Chairman wants to bury August 19, he might want to be careful about digging the grave too deep.

He may discover that his own political biography is buried in there with it.

The Commonwealth of The Bahamas deserves better.

END

My Dear Mr. Prime Minister,

How exquisitely appropriate.

There you were last night, addressing the nation about the darkness enveloping The Bahamas — explaining, reassuring, diagnosing, promising.

And, almost as if the electrical grid itself had developed a rather refined sense of political irony, a large portion of New Providence was plunged into darkness as you began speaking.

One almost hates to interrupt such a perfectly staged moment.

But let us examine your explanation, shall we?

You told Bahamians that the electrical system you inherited was effectively “on life support.” You described ageing infrastructure, failed equipment, decades of temporary fixes and a system that was never properly modernised. You said more than 60 percent of New Providence’s generation equipment needed replacement when your administration took office, with the figure even higher in the Family Islands.

Quite a dreadful condition, pure doom and gloom.

One question, however, keeps scratching at the door:

Who, exactly, was supposed to have noticed?

Because, Mr. Prime Minister, this is where your little tale becomes rather interesting.

You were not some unsuspecting gentlemen who wandered into the Ministry of Works one morning and discovered, to his horror, that BEC had been neglected.

From 2012 to 2017, you were Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Works and Urban Development, with responsibility that included BEC and the country’s physical infrastructure.

And it was your own Christie administration, under your ministerial responsibility, that formally confronted the miserable state of BEC.

In 2015, you announced PowerSecure as the preferred bidder to manage the corporation. In 2016, under your watch as Minister of Works, the government entered into a five-year management agreement giving PowerSecure responsibility for generation, transmission and distribution.

Indeed, your own government’s presentation of the problem was remarkably familiar.

BEC, you said at the time, was unsustainable, debt-ridden and suffering from inadequate generation assets. The government identified the need for at least $450 million in capital investment over five years to address the problems confronting the system.

So, forgive the question, Prime Minister:

When did the infrastructure become old?

Was it sometime after you left the Ministry of Works in 2017?

Or was it already old when you were sitting in the ministerial chair?

And if it was already sufficiently decrepit in 2016 to require hundreds of millions of dollars of investment, why are we sitting here in August 2026 listening to essentially the same diagnosis?

Perhaps the infrastructure did not age.

Perhaps the explanation did.

Because now, after five years as Prime Minister, we are being invited to contemplate the fascinating proposition that the principal problem confronting your government is the condition of a system that you have known about for years.

You became Prime Minister in September 2021.

You were subsequently returned to office in May 2026 for a second consecutive term.

That means the word “inherited” has now had rather a long life in your administration.

Five years.

Then another mandate.

And yet the electrical system is still being presented to the Bahamian people as though it were a recently discovered crime scene.

My dear Prime Minister, you have had five years to investigate the body.

You have had another five-year mandate to repair the morgue.

At some point, one must stop asking who killed the patient and start asking who has been holding the clipboard.

The Overtime Mystery

Now, to be fair, you raised a legitimate issue last night.

The Tribune reports that BPL spent approximately $20 million on overtime last year. Three employees in the Fuel and Performance Department reportedly received a combined $601,295.16 in overtime between May 2025 and April 2026. One employee’s records reportedly showed 18 hours claimed on Christmas Day followed by 24 hours on each of the next three days — 90 hours over four days.

You quite properly called that a management and oversight problem.

Quite right.

But management and oversight, Mr. Prime Minister, have a rather nasty habit of eventually finding their way upstairs.

If there has been a failure of management, controls and oversight “across administrations,” as you said, then perhaps the country is entitled to ask:

When does “across administrations” become “this administration”?

Because those three employees did not apparently collect that $601,295 in 2016.

They collected it between May 2025 and April 2026.

That is your administration.

The policy you are now defending is your government’s policy.

The management structure is operating under your government.

And the company was spending the money while you were Prime Minister.

So yes, investigate the overtime.

But please don’t mistake investigation for absolution.

And Then There Is the Fuel

There is another little detail history has inconveniently preserved.

When your administration came to office in 2021, BPL’s fuel-hedging programme was already producing significant savings.

An October 2021 letter from then-BPL CEO Whitney Heastie to Works Minister Alfred Sears said the programme had produced approximately $30 million in fuel-cost savings through September 2021, with estimated savings of $55 million by January 2022.

The subsequent argument over whether the Davis administration received and acted upon specific advice regarding additional hedging trades remains politically contested.

So, I would not present the matter as the simple fairy tale that “Davis cancelled the hedge and therefore electricity bills exploded.”

That would be too convenient.

But this much is beyond dispute:

Your government inherited a fuel-hedging mechanism designed to stabilise costs, and your government subsequently had to confront rapidly rising electricity charges.

That deserves examination.

Especially because governments cannot simultaneously claim credit for everything that works and blame everybody else for everything that doesn’t.

That is not governance.

That is accounting by séance.

What Went Wrong?

You told Bahamians last night that you could have simply rented another engine and patched another cable — as governments had allegedly done for decades.

But, Mr. Prime Minister, you were one of the people who occupied the room when those decisions were being made.

Your government in 2016 understood the system needed massive investment.

Your government established PowerSecure to manage the utility.

The succeeding FNM administration ended that management agreement in 2017.

Then you returned as Prime Minister in 2021.

Five years later, you are telling us that the system is still old, still fragile, still requiring massive investment, still dependent upon temporary generation and still vulnerable to catastrophic outages.

And now you tell us:

“I am not here to manage this. I am here to fix it.”

Beautiful.

Absolutely beautiful.

Except, Mr. Prime Minister, that was the job description five years ago.

The Curious Case of Responsibility

You also said something else rather revealing.

You said:

“The responsibility to act is ours.”

There we agree.

Entirely.

It is yours.

It has been yours.

And, before that, you personally had direct ministerial responsibility for BEC.

That is precisely why the constant invocation of the word “inherited” is becoming less persuasive with every passing blackout.

A government can inherit a problem.

It cannot reasonably inherit the same problem for five years, repeatedly diagnose it, announce reforms, make promises, spend money, change ministers, create companies, launch initiatives and then return to the electorate saying:

“Look what we inherited.”

At some point, Prime Minister, the inheritance becomes an estate you have been administering.

And the beneficiaries are beginning to wonder where the money went.

And What of Minister Coleby-Davis?

Which brings us, rather delicately, to the question of the Minister responsible for Energy.

JoBeth Coleby-Davis has been one of the public faces of the government’s energy agenda. Yet last night’s address had the unmistakable character of a Prime Minister stepping directly into the centre of a crisis that has become too large to leave at ministerial level.

That raises an uncomfortable question.

Is the Prime Minister merely taking charge during an extraordinary national emergency?

Or has the BPL crisis become so politically radioactive that the Prime Minister now has to personally explain what the responsible ministry has been unable to explain convincingly?

Either way, the optics are not particularly comforting.

Because if the minister has the authority, why must the Prime Minister rescue the portfolio?

And if the Prime Minister must rescue the portfolio, why have we been paying for the portfolio?

One begins to suspect that somewhere inside the machinery of government there is a very lonely switch marked:

“ACCOUNTABILITY.”

Perhaps someone should turn it on.

Assuming, of course, BPL permits it.

The Final Question

Mr. Prime Minister, nobody seriously expects you to manufacture electricity with a wave of your hand.

Nobody expects you to prevent every mechanical failure.

Nobody expects an ageing utility to become modern overnight.

And nobody should pretend that the FNM bears no responsibility for the decisions it made while in office.

But political accountability has a rather simple principle:

You inherit circumstances. You own decisions.

And after five years in government — followed by a successful campaign for another five years — your administration cannot forever occupy the comfortable territory between “we inherited it” and “give us credit for fixing it.”

You cannot have both.

If the infrastructure was already in crisis when you arrived, tell us precisely what your government did about it.

If you spent five years rebuilding it, show us the results.

If you say the system is finally being transformed, show us the contracts, the timelines, the expenditure, the milestones and the measurable improvements.

And if there were failures in management, controls and oversight under your government, investigate them without using the word “inherited” as a diplomatic fog machine.

Because last night, while you were telling Bahamians that you were going to bring light to the darkness, the lights went out.

Some might call that coincidence.

Others might call it irony.

And somewhere, I suspect, the electrical grid itself was quietly smiling.

Yours rather darkly,

My Morning Paper

P.S. Prime Minister, when you said “What we inherited is not what we will leave behind,” the country heard the promise. After five years, however, Bahamians are entitled to ask whether the next inheritance will be another explanation — or finally an electrical system that works.

The Bahamian people deserve better.

END

Apparently, here in the Bahamas of 2026, there is a new political theory emerging from the chairman of the Progressive Liberal Party (PLP): if the lights go out, look for an FNM talking point.

If the courts cannot function because of power interruptions, apparently that too is an FNM talking point.

And if the President of the Bahamas Bar Association raises concerns about the effect of those interruptions on the administration of justice, well, according to Fred Mitchell, perhaps he is not really talking about justice at all. Perhaps he is simply helping the FNM win an election that is still some 56 months away.

One has to admire the creativity.

But there is a problem with this argument.

The electricity went off.

That is not a political opinion.

That is not an FNM slogan.

That is not a headline manufactured by Kahlil Parker.

It is a practical problem when a court cannot operate normally because there is no electricity.

And when that happens, it is entirely legitimate for the President of the Bar Association to raise the issue of access to justice.

In fact, the Bahamas Bar Association’s own stated mission includes ensuring continued access to justice and preserving the rule of law.

So let us separate the politics from the facts.

Mitchell is correct about one important point: the courts are no longer simply another department of government operating under the old administrative structure.

The Court Services Act, 2023 established the Court Services Council and transferred responsibility for the administration and support services of the courts to an autonomous body. The Chief Justice himself described the legislation as a major step toward allowing the judiciary to manage its administrative and financial affairs.

But that fact does not make the problem of electricity disappear.

Nor does it make the Bar President’s concerns illegitimate.

And it certainly does not establish that Parker’s comments were politically motivated.

That is where Mitchell’s argument takes an unfortunate turn.

Instead of asking the obvious question — “Why are the courts experiencing power interruptions, and what is being done to ensure that justice is not disrupted?” — Mitchell spends much of his commentary attempting to establish the political pedigree of the person asking the question.

Apparently, Parker is using “FNM talking points.”

Apparently, he should have telephoned the Chief Justice rather than speaking publicly.

Apparently, his statement was more about his newspaper photograph than the functioning of the courts.

And apparently, somewhere in all of this, there is a grand conspiracy to help the FNM win the next election.

That is a remarkable amount of political analysis for a problem that could apparently be solved by keeping the electricity on.

More importantly, there is no evidence presented in Mitchell’s remarks establishing that Parker’s statement was politically motivated.

Parker is the elected President of the Bahamas Bar Association. The Bar’s own records identify him as its current president, and his professional biography describes his work in public law, litigation, appellate law and law reform.

The Chief Justice’s own 2026 opening-of-the-legal-year remarks also thanked Parker and the Bar Council for their work and described the relationship between the judiciary and the Bar as a continuing partnership.

So, the attempt to turn Parker into an FNM political operative requires evidence.

Where is it?

If Mitchell has evidence that Parker’s statement was coordinated with the FNM, he should produce it.

If he has evidence that Parker was acting politically rather than professionally, he should produce that too.

Otherwise, it is simply a political accusation being substituted for an answer to a substantive question.

And that brings us to the bigger issue.

Mitchell asks: what about all the cases that are delayed because lawyers routinely seek adjournments?

Fair question.

But it is also a spectacular example of changing the subject.

The existence of one problem does not cancel another.

If lawyers unnecessarily delay cases, deal with that problem.

If court administration is inefficient, fix it.

If the Court Services Council requires additional resources, provide them.

If the electricity infrastructure at court facilities is inadequate, correct it.

And if BPL’s reliability is affecting essential public institutions, explain why and tell the Bahamian people what is being done about it.

All of those things can be true at the same time.

What should not happen is the political sleight of hand whereby criticism of an infrastructure failure becomes an attack on the political affiliation of the person who points it out.

Because this is not merely about lawyers.

It is not merely about the Bar.

It is not merely about the FNM.

It is about whether a citizen can walk into a court expecting the machinery of justice to function.

The government may quite properly point out that the Court Services Council has administrative responsibility for the courts. But that does not absolve the wider government from answering questions about public infrastructure, financing, energy reliability or the resources being made available to institutions that perform essential public functions.

Indeed, the Chief Justice has previously publicly thanked the Minister of Finance and the Prime Minister for providing significant capital expenditure for the judiciary.

So, the real question is not whether Parker should have called the Chief Justice before speaking to the media.

Perhaps he did.

Perhaps he did not.

Unless Mitchell has evidence otherwise, we simply do not know.

The real question is much simpler:

Why are the courts losing power, what effect has that had on court proceedings, and what is being done to prevent it from happening again?

That is the question ordinary Bahamians can understand.

And it is a question that does not require a political party attached to it.

But this is where Fred Mitchell’s commentary becomes particularly revealing.

For a politician who has spent decades talking about the importance of public accountability, he seems remarkably uncomfortable when accountability points in his own government’s direction.

Electricity reliability is not an FNM issue.

Justice delayed is not a PLP issue.

Working courts are not an FNM issue.

Functional infrastructure is not a PLP issue.

They are Bahamian issues.

And that is precisely why the constant political reframing is so exhausting.

When BPL fails, blame somebody else.

When the courts complain, accuse the complainant of helping the opposition.

When citizens raise concerns, explain why their concerns are politically motivated.

When criticism becomes uncomfortable, change the subject.

Eventually, one begins to wonder whether the government’s greatest energy project is not fixing the electricity system but finding new ways to explain why every problem is somebody else’s fault.

And perhaps that is the most important question Mitchell should answer:

When does a problem stop being an FNM talking point and become a problem that the government is actually responsible for fixing?

Because the lights do not know which political party you support.

The courts do not know which party you voted for.

And justice certainly should not care.

The people of the Commonwealth of The Bahamian deserve much better.

END

There are moments in politics when the spin becomes so elaborate that you almost need a scorecard to keep track of which version of reality you are supposed to believe.

Fred Mitchell, Chairman of the Progressive Liberal Party, has now given us his version of Grand Bahama: the economy is in a “dynamic mode,” there is a comeback underway, there is a “positivity spirit” in Freeport — but somehow, at the same time, Freeport’s problems can be laid at the feet of the Grand Bahama Port Authority (GBPA).

Well, which is it, Mr. Chairman?

Is Freeport experiencing a robust economic revival under the stewardship of the Davis administration, or is Freeport being held back by an institution over which the government says it now has substantial regulatory authority?

Because you really cannot have it both ways.

Mitchell’s comments are particularly interesting in light of the government’s own history with the Grand Bahama Port Authority (GBPA). In March, following the international arbitration, the Davis administration celebrated what the Prime Minister described as a “historic victory,” emphasizing that the tribunal confirmed the government’s regulatory authority over Freeport and rejected most of GBPA’s counterclaims.

But there is another side to that arbitration which deserves to be remembered.

The government’s $357 million reimbursement claim against GBPA was dismissed. The tribunal also found that successive governments had failed to act in a timely manner on certain proposed environmental by-laws, although it did not immediately establish a basis for damages.

So perhaps the Chairman should explain something.

If the government has spent years telling Grand Bahamians that it needed to confront the GBPA because the Port Authority was standing in the way of Freeport’s development, and if the government then went to arbitration to settle precisely these questions, what exactly is the government doing with the authority it says the tribunal has now confirmed?

And while we are asking questions, let’s ask some that actually matter to the people of Grand Bahama.

What is happening with the airport?

Because the airport was not some minor detail in the grand political narrative of Grand Bahama’s revival.

The redevelopment of Grand Bahama International Airport has been discussed for years. In 2022, government officials described the airport redevelopment and the sale of the Grand Lucayan as major components of the island’s economic revitalisation strategy.

Indeed, when the earlier $100 million Electra America deal for the Grand Lucayan collapsed in 2022, the importance of the airport was hardly a secret. Former Lucayan Renewal Holdings chairman Michael Scott argued that a substantial airport commitment was essential to attracting serious investment into the resort.

The Davis administration itself said in November 2022 that it was in the final stages of selecting a provider for the airport’s redevelopment.

Fast-forward several years and Grand Bahamians are still entitled to ask:

Where is the finished airport?

And if the answer is that the airport is progressing, then show the people the schedule, the scope, the financing, the operator, the construction milestones and the completion date.

Because Grand Bahamians have heard enough announcements.

They need delivery.

The same applies to the Grand Lucayan.

The government eventually signed a Heads of Agreement in May 2025 to sell the 56-acre beachfront resort and adjacent Reef Golf Course to Ancient Waters Bahamas, a subsidiary of Concord Wilshire Capital, for $120 million. The redevelopment was presented as an approximately $827 million project.

There has subsequently been real movement around the project. The development has attracted Hilton branding, and MSC’s cruise division has committed to a beach club component. Officials have also said that airport redevelopment is important to the success of the Grand Lucayan project.

So, this is not an argument that absolutely nothing is happening.

It is an argument about time, delivery and political accountability.

Because there is a profound difference between saying:

“Grand Bahama is recovering.”

and saying:

“Grand Bahama’s economy is robust.”

The government’s own 2026 budget figures show that Grand Bahama recorded more than one million visitor arrivals in 2025, a 91.2 percent increase over the previous year, largely driven by the opening of Carnival’s Celebration Key. Arrivals continued strongly into 2026. Those are unquestionably positive numbers.

But visitor arrivals are not the entire economy.

A cruise passenger arriving at a private cruise destination is not automatically the same thing as a thriving Freeport economy.

A headline announcing billions in proposed investment is not the same thing as completed projects.

A promise of an airport is not an airport.

A Heads of Agreement is not a finished hotel.

And a political speech describing an economy as “robust” does not make it so.

That is where Mr. Mitchell’s version of the “tale of two cities” becomes problematic.

He talks about the positive spirit in Freeport while pointing toward the GBPA as the institution responsible for the roads, the airport and other failures.

But Grand Bahamians have every right to ask the government:

What part of this is now your responsibility?

The tribunal confirmed that the government has regulatory authority in Freeport. The government’s own case was that Freeport could no longer be treated as some private kingdom outside the reach of the Bahamian state.

Fine.

Then govern.

Fix what you have the authority to fix.

Build what you promised to build.

Finish what you promised to finish.

And stop treating every unfinished piece of Grand Bahama as somebody else’s fault.

Because that is the real problem with this latest political performance.

For years, Grand Bahamians were promised a new economic dawn.

They were promised the resurrection of the Grand Lucayan.

They were promised an airport capable of supporting that redevelopment.

They were promised investment.

They were promised jobs.

They were promised that Grand Bahama would be transformed.

And now, after years in office, the political conversation increasingly sounds like an exercise in explaining why somebody else is responsible for the things that remain undone.

First, it was COVID.

Then Dorian.

Then investors.

Then the Port Authority.

Then arbitration.

Then regulations.

Then somebody else.

At some point, Mr. Mitchell, the government has to become the adult in the room.

You cannot campaign as the government that will fix Grand Bahama and then, years later, become the government explaining why Grand Bahama’s problems are somebody else’s fault.

And perhaps that is the most important question arising from Mitchell’s “tale of two cities.”

If Freeport is truly as robust as he suggests, why does the government still have so much explaining to do?

Why are Grand Bahamians still asking about the airport?

Why are they still asking about the Grand Lucayan?

Why are they still asking about roads and infrastructure?

Why are they still asking when the promised transformation will actually be felt in their businesses, their paycheques and their communities?

And why, after nearly five years of a PLP government, are we still being offered political optimism where measurable delivery should be?

Grand Bahama does not need another inspirational speech.

It does not need another announcement.

It certainly does not need another political fairy tale.

It needs execution.

So, forgive Grand Bahamians if they are somewhat sceptical when Fred Mitchell tells them that Freeport is “dynamic,” “positive” and “coming back.”

They have heard that story before.

What they would really like to see is the next chapter.

And preferably, this time, with an airport, a functioning tourism anchor, functioning infrastructure and actual economic opportunity in it.

Because if this is what the PLP calls a “robust” economy, perhaps Grand Bahamians should be forgiven for asking the most politically inconvenient question of all:

Robust for whom?

The Bahamas deserves so much more.

END

The headline in The Nassau Guardian reads: “Unrest at BPL – Dispute on overtime erupts – BEWU trade dispute; wants Alston gone.”

According to the report, the Bahamas Electrical Workers Union (BEWU) filed a trade dispute with the Ministry of Labour on August 11, 2026, after Bahamas Power and Light (BPL) implemented a new overtime policy earlier this week. The dispute comes at a time when the country is already grappling with persistent power outages and growing frustration over the state of the nation’s electricity provider.

Whether one agrees with the union’s position or not, the fact remains that industrial unrest at BPL is the last thing Bahamians need while the corporation struggles to stabilize an already fragile system.

But while the overtime dispute dominates the headlines, another issue deserves attention.

Former PLP MP Leslie Miller recently expressed concern about what he described as a new breed of political activist operating within the Progressive Liberal Party (PLP), whom he has labelled “Political mercenaries”. He questioned where some of these individuals came from, why they appear so quick to attack anyone who disagrees with the party, and why so much political discussion has descended into hostility, insults, and personal attacks.

It is a fair question.

It appears that BEWU President Kyle Wilson had already become the target of aggressive attacks from some of the party’s most vocal online supporters, something new for Mr. Miller to question the PLP party about.

Yet with all due respect to Mr. Miller, the answer may be far simpler than he thinks.

The people he is questioning did not arrive by boat, parachute, or divine intervention. They did not sneak into the PLP under the cover of darkness. They were invited in through the front door.

For years, some of the loudest and most aggressive political personalities on social media have been publicly embraced, celebrated, and defended by senior figures within the party. These individuals were often described as “foot soldiers” fighting for the cause. They were praised when they attacked political opponents. They were applauded when they dominated social media discussions. They were rewarded with recognition when they carried the party’s message into every online battlefield.

Now, suddenly, some within the PLP appear shocked that a few of these same individuals feel empowered enough to challenge party officials, issue public ultimatums, attack union leaders, and behave as though they are entitled to dictate the party’s direction.

But entitlement does not develop in a vacuum. It grows when it is encouraged. It flourishes when it is rewarded. And it becomes entrenched when those at the top decide that political loyalty is more valuable than political discipline.

That is why Mr. Miller may be looking for answers in the wrong place.

If he truly wants to understand how this culture developed, he may wish to start by examining the leadership that helped cultivate it. The names most often associated with publicly praising and encouraging these political warriors are not names from outside the party. They are names from within it.

Prime Minister Philip Davis. Foreign Affairs Minister Fred Mitchell. Former Senator Jerome Fitzgerald.

These are among the figures who have publicly acknowledged and praised many of the party’s most energetic online defenders over the years.

So, if Mr. Miller is wondering where these so-called “political mercenaries” came from, the answer may not be found on Facebook, WhatsApp, or social media platforms.

The answer may be found much closer to home.

After all, when someone walks through the front door, it is usually because somebody opened it.

The Bahamas deserves better.

END

Today, Acting Prime Minister Chester Cooper was asked a rather inconvenient question: What happened to approximately $265 million that had been sitting in the National Investment Fund (NIF)?

His response, essentially, was that the Opposition is simply looking for relevance and that the matter is one for the Ministry of Finance.

Ah, yes.

The New Day Bahamian governmental tradition: when the question gets uncomfortable, find another ministry.

Except this isn’t a question about a missing office chair.

We are talking about approximately $265 million of public money.

And before anybody rushes to accuse the Opposition of inventing numbers, let’s deal with the facts.

Government’s own fiscal reporting showed that the National Investment Fund had approximately $265.3 million at December 2025. By the end of March 2026, the reported balance had fallen to approximately $0.2 million. That is a movement of roughly $265 million in a matter of months.

The government has now said the money was used to support its airport infrastructure programme.

Fine.

Then tell the Bahamian people exactly how.

Because that is where the government’s explanation begins to look less like transparency and more like a game of governmental hide-and-seek.

And, for the record, there is an important distinction that needs to be made.

The Government has already argued that the original $265.3 million placement into the NIF was authorized by Parliament under a March 10, 2025, resolution. Prime Minister Philip Davis made that position explicit during his mid-year budget contribution. Government reporting also states that the funds were intended for strategic infrastructure investments, including airport works.

So, the issue isn’t honestly presented by saying, “The government secretly put $265 million into the NIF without parliamentary approval.”

That claim is disputed by the government’s own parliamentary explanation.

The much more important question is what happened next.

The NIF is not supposed to be a governmental piggy bank with a convenient ATM card hanging off the side.

The National Investment Funds Act, 2022 established the fund as a statutory vehicle with specific governance arrangements. The legislation provides for the establishment and management of the Fund, including provisions dealing with deposits, allocations and withdrawals, a Board of Governors and investment-management structures.

That means Bahamians are entitled to ask some very basic questions:

Who authorized the withdrawals?

On what statutory authority were they made?

What resolutions or approvals were issued?

Which projects received the money?

How much went to each project?

Who sits on the Board governing the Fund?

What investment or allocation mandate governed the money?

What contracts, invoices, project approvals or expenditure records support the withdrawals?

And perhaps most importantly:

Where is the required reporting?

Because this is where Chester Cooper’s “it’s a Ministry of Finance matter” answer becomes rather unsatisfying.

Nobody is asking him to personally reconcile the government’s books on the back of a cocktail napkin.

The public is asking the government to account for $265 million.

And accountability is not supposed to depend on which ministry happens to have the file.

The Government’s own communications have acknowledged that the NIF has a statutory governance and reporting framework.

So, if the answer is that everything was properly authorized, properly documented and properly spent on airport infrastructure, then wonderful.

Open the book.

Show the authorization.

Show the Board decision.

Show the allocation.

Show the projects.

Show the contracts.

Show the expenditure.

Show the report.

Then everybody can go home.

But what we should not get is the increasingly familiar political response that goes something like:

“Nothing to see here. The Opposition is playing politics. Ask somebody else.”

That may be sufficient for a press conference.

It is not sufficient for $265 million of Bahamian public money.

And this is precisely where the PLP government’s attitude toward accountability needs to be challenged.

The people are not required to stop asking questions simply because the government finds the questions inconvenient.

The Opposition isn’t the only entity asking questions. Journalists, taxpayers, financial professionals and ordinary Bahamians have every right to ask what happened to hundreds of millions of dollars held in a statutory national investment vehicle.

This isn’t about whether Michael Pintard is relevant.

It isn’t about whether the FNM is “moaning.”

It isn’t even about whether the PLP thinks the Opposition is trying to score political points.

It is about whether government believes that public money requires public accountability.

There is also a delicious irony here.

The Government wants Bahamians to believe that everything is perfectly normal because the money is ultimately being used for infrastructure.

Well, congratulations.

But “we spent it on something useful” is not a substitute for financial accountability.

If that were the standard, every government in the world could simply say, “Don’t worry, we spent the money on something good,” and Parliament, auditors, oversight bodies and the public could all go home.

That isn’t how responsible government works.

The NIF was created by legislation precisely because public investment funds are supposed to operate within a framework of governance, professional management and accountability.

And there is another uncomfortable little detail.

The Government’s own budget reporting shows that the NIF was being used for strategic infrastructure investment, including airport projects.

So, there is nothing inherently outrageous about using the Fund for infrastructure if that use is authorized under the applicable framework and properly documented.

What is outrageous is expecting the Bahamian people to accept “trust us” as the entire accounting system.

Mr. Deputy Prime Minister, if this is truly a straightforward Ministry of Finance matter, then perhaps the Ministry of Finance should simply provide the answers.

And while you’re waiting for them, perhaps you can return your attention to making sure that the Grand Cay generator actually stays running.

Because Bahamians have become rather tired of governments treating basic questions about public money as though the public has committed some terrible political offence by asking them.

This isn’t “moaning.”

This isn’t “complaining.”

And it isn’t necessarily even partisan.

It is called accountability.

The PLP doesn’t get to decide that transparency is a constitutional virtue when it is in Opposition and an annoying political nuisance when it is in Government.

The standard has to remain the standard.

If the money was properly authorized, say so.

If it was properly withdrawn, show us.

If it was properly spent, account for it.

If the NIF Board approved it, identify the Board and publish the relevant documentation.

If the airport projects received the money, tell Bahamians exactly which projects, how much each received and what has actually been delivered.

And if all of that is already available, then there should be absolutely no reason to tell the public to wait while government officials complain about the Opposition asking questions.

Because $265 million isn’t a political talking point.

It is $265 million of the people’s money.

And apparently, in today’s PLP Bahamas, asking where it went is considered political mischief.

Perhaps the government should try something revolutionary:

Answer the damn question.

The Bahamas deserves so much better.

END

There are moments in politics when you almost must admire the sheer creativity of an experienced politician.

After five years in office, the Chairman of the Progressive Liberal Party (PLP), Fred Mitchell, appears to have made a remarkable discovery:

The Bahamas needs money to do things.

Who knew?

According to remarks attributed to Mitchell, the country is facing enormous demands for capital — nearly $500 million for water and sewage, approximately $800 million for roads, and hundreds of millions more for bridges, seawalls, environmental projects, public buildings and healthcare facilities.

And, of course, there is the small matter of keeping the lights on.

Mitchell describes it as a “lack of capital” in a “dynamic economy” and says the country needs both capital and labour.

Well, after five years of a PLP government, one is tempted to ask the most impolite question of all:

When exactly did the government discover that all of this was going to cost money?

Because this is the same Progressive Liberal Party (PLP) that went to the Bahamian people in 2021 with a Blueprint for Change containing 387 commitments and promising to “recover, rebuild and revolutionize” the country.

The PLP’s own recently published tracker now acknowledges that some commitments have been delivered, others remain in progress, and some have been delayed, revised, replaced or discontinued. In other words, even the government’s own scorecard does not suggest that every promise made on the campaign trail magically became reality.

And this is where Mr. Mitchell’s newfound fascination with capital becomes rather interesting.

The “Dynamic Economy” Excuse

When the PLP was campaigning, the message was not:

“Vote for us, but please understand that we may subsequently discover that there isn’t enough money to do what we promised.”

No.

The message was transformational.

The 2021 Blueprint promised major changes, including increased public investment through government expenditure and public-private partnerships. In its first budget after taking office, the Davis administration itself said it intended to increase public investment and described its programme as “bold,” “aggressive,” “reasonable,” “responsible” and “realistic.”

So, what happened?

Five years later, we are apparently being introduced to The New New Day:

The government has discovered that roads cost money.

Water systems cost money.

Bridges cost money.

Healthcare facilities cost money.

Power infrastructure costs money.

And — hold on to your chairs — workers cost money too.

This would all be perfectly understandable if this were a government that had just walked into office yesterday.

But it isn’t.

The PLP has had five years to govern, plan, prioritize, finance and execute.

And Mr. Mitchell is not some bewildered backbencher who accidentally wandered into Cabinet. He is a senior Cabinet minister and the Chairman of the governing party.

So, when he tells Bahamians that there is a shortage of capital, the obvious question is:

What happened to the grand financial strategy that was supposed to make all those promises possible?

Nobody Said Government Was Cheap

To be fair, there is a legitimate point buried somewhere underneath Mr. Mitchell’s argument.

The Bahamas is a small country with a population of roughly 400,000 people. It has an enormous infrastructure bill relative to its population, a narrow domestic tax base, high import dependence and significant exposure to external economic shocks.

And yes, infrastructure is expensive.

But that isn’t a revelation.

It is precisely the sort of thing political parties are supposed to understand before they write their manifestos.

The government’s own fiscal numbers show that the fiscal position has improved considerably from the depths of the COVID-era crisis. Government debt fell from about 88.7% of GDP in FY2020/21 to a projected 71.4% in FY2024/25, according to the Ministry of Finance’s 2025 budget documents. The government also moved from a primary deficit to primary surpluses.

So, the argument cannot simply be that the cupboard is bare.

The more appropriate question is:

How has the government chosen to allocate the resources available to it, and why haven’t the promised investments been delivered at the pace Bahamians were led to expect?

That’s a very different question.

And Then There Is the Little Matter of the Promises

This is where the political mathematics becomes particularly amusing.

You cannot spend five years telling people that you have a plan to fix the country and then, near the end of the political cycle, discover that fixing the country is rather expensive.

The PLP’s own 2021 budget rhetoric was extraordinarily confident. The government said it was going to stabilize the nation’s finances, increase revenue, grow the economy and increase public investment.

It even criticized the previous administration’s fiscal management and declared that the era of “mismanagement, shoddy fiscal discipline and indecisive governance” was over.

That was quite a statement.

Because once you assume the mantle of government, eventually the speeches must become projects.

Eventually the announcements must become contracts.

Eventually the contracts must become construction.

Eventually the construction must become something Bahamians can actually use.

And eventually somebody must pay the bill.

The Immigration Argument Is Another Matter

Mitchell’s comments about businesses struggling to find workers while some Bahamians say they cannot find jobs touch on a genuine economic problem: the mismatch between available skills and the labour demanded by employers.

That is a legitimate policy debate.

A government can reasonably argue that carefully managed immigration is necessary where local labour supply does not meet demand, while simultaneously investing in Bahamian training and employment.

But that debate should not be used as a substitute for confronting the government’s own failures in workforce development.

If contractors have been complaining for years that they cannot find skilled Bahamian labour, and Bahamians have been complaining that they cannot find suitable employment, then perhaps the country doesn’t merely have an immigration problem.

Perhaps it has a planning problem.

And after five years, that planning problem belongs to the government.

The Capital Problem Is Not an Excuse for Broken Promises

Here is the inconvenient truth for the PLP:

Governments inherit problems. Governments are elected to solve them.

They don’t get to campaign promising transformation and then, five years later, announce that transformation has turned out to be rather costly.

Imagine a contractor telling a client:

“Good news! I have completed the first five years of the project. Bad news: I have just discovered that concrete, steel, labour and plumbing cost money.”

The client might reasonably ask:

“Didn’t you prepare a budget?”

That is precisely what Bahamians should be asking.

Because the PLP didn’t simply promise to govern.

It promised a New Day.

It promised to “Recover, Rebuild and Revolutionize.”

It published 387 commitments.

And now, near the end of the five-year period, the party chairman is explaining that the country has a tremendous amount to do and — surprise, surprise — there isn’t unlimited capital available to do it.

Well, Mr. Chairman, welcome to government.

There never was unlimited money.

There never was unlimited labour.

There never was unlimited time.

There was, however, a campaign trail.

And on that trail, the PLP made a great many promises.

The question now isn’t whether The Bahamas needs $500 million for water, $800 million for roads, or hundreds of millions more for everything else.

Of course it does.

The question is much simpler:

Why did the people have to wait five years for the people making the promises to discover the price tag?

Perhaps the next election should come with a new campaign slogan:

“Vote PLP — Now With An Actual Budget.”

Because apparently the first five years were merely the trial period.

And if this is what happens when the New Day arrives, perhaps somebody should check whether the receipt comes with a return policy.

The people of The Bahamas deserve better.

END