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

It appears that Bahamian politics has entered a realm that can only be described as deeply troubling — and, at times, downright absurd.

And before anyone gets offended, this is not an accusation that Bahamians are uniquely incapable of rational thought. Political tribalism, blind loyalty and the rejection of inconvenient facts are hardly exclusive to The Bahamas. They exist in democracies around the world.

What should concern us, however, is the extent to which our political loyalties increasingly appear to determine what we are willing to believe.

That is a dangerous place for any society to find itself.

The German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, writing during the rise of Nazi Germany, reflected deeply on what he called stupidity. Importantly, Bonhoeffer was not simply talking about a lack of intelligence. He was describing something far more dangerous: the surrender of independent judgment.

His argument was essentially that a person can be perfectly capable of thinking, yet surrender that ability to a political movement, leader, ideology or group. At that point, slogans can replace thought, loyalty can replace judgment, and facts that contradict one’s beliefs can simply be dismissed.

And perhaps that is where we should pause and look at ourselves.

FIRST: OUTSOURCING OUR THINKING

When we allow a political party, politician or political tribe to tell us what to think about every issue, we have stopped exercising independent judgment.

If the party says it is good, we say it is good.

If the party says it is bad, we say it is bad.

If our political opponents make the identical argument, suddenly it becomes unacceptable.

That is not political conviction.

That is intellectual dependence.

And the irony is that some of the people who behave this way today would have fiercely condemned the very same behaviour when their political opponents were doing it.

SECOND: WILLFUL IGNORANCE

Ignorance is not necessarily stupidity.

None of us knows everything. That is perfectly normal.

The problem begins when we encounter information that challenges what we believe and deliberately refuse to investigate it.

We don’t read the report.

We don’t check the numbers.

We don’t examine the evidence.

We simply repeat what our political side has told us.

And when presented with facts that contradict our position, we dismiss them because they came from “the other side.”

That isn’t knowledge.

It is wilful ignorance dressed up as political loyalty.

THIRD: CONFORMITY

Then there is the pressure to belong.

We see what everyone around us is saying, so we say it too.

We repeat the same slogans.

We defend the same people.

We condemn the same people.

We laugh at the same political jokes.

We attack anyone who dares to question the accepted position.

Eventually, being part of the crowd becomes more important than determining whether the crowd is actually right.

And that is where conformity becomes particularly dangerous: truth becomes secondary to belonging.

Bonhoeffer’s warning was not that every person is inherently stupid. In fact, his reflections specifically caution against treating the majority of people as stupid in every circumstance. His concern was what happens when people surrender their inner independence to the power and influence surrounding them.

SO, WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE US?

I believe we need to ask ourselves some uncomfortable questions.

Can we criticize our own political party?

Can we acknowledge when our preferred politician is wrong?

Can we accept a fact even when it benefits our political opponent?

Can we change our position when the evidence changes?

Can we disagree with someone politically without assuming that they are stupid, evil or unpatriotic?

And most importantly:

Are we thinking for ourselves — or are we simply repeating what our political tribe has instructed us to think?

A healthy democracy does not require everyone to agree.

It requires people to think.

It requires citizens willing to question their own side.

It requires the courage to say, “I was wrong.”

It requires us to value truth over tribalism, evidence over emotion and principle over party.

Because political parties are temporary.

Politicians come and go.

Governments change.

But the habits of thought we allow to take root in our society can remain for generations.

We cannot continue down a road where political loyalty becomes more important than intellectual honesty and still expect to build a mature, civilized democracy.

The Bahamas does not need more people who simply know which side they are on.

We need more people willing to ask whether their side is right.

Think.

Question.

Verify.

Challenge.

And when the facts prove us wrong, have the courage to change our minds.

That is not weakness.

That is citizenship.

END

I sat down to read the latest from Fred Mitchell — a press statement urging calm, praising “the professionals,” and scolding the opposition for “creating anxiety” over the Bahamas Power and Light mess. Charming. If only rhetoric powered a grid. 

It is simply amazing that now the PLP’s chairman would like “all hands of deck” and would like for persons to put politics aside on this matter when he was the first one to make it political and creating unnecessary anxiety; “State of collapse – Mitchell blames FNM for power owes” – The Nassau Guardian 30th July 2026.

Let’s cut to the chase: asking everyone to put politics aside while absolving your own party of responsibility is rich. Mitchell now wants “all hands-on deck” and for people to trust the experts — after the PLP’s loud energy-reform promises, after the pronouncements, after the changes that, by all appearances, left the system more fragile, not less. And no one is blaming the experts; the ones being blamed are those whose failed policies took us this far back.

And yet the chairman’s statement reads like a moral sermon: “come with clean hands,” “confess our sins,” “let us give the professionals an honest opportunity.” Fine. Start by putting the facts on the table. Publish the timelines, the emergency fixes, the budgets, the procurement records. Show the public the concrete steps being taken to finish transmission and distribution upgrades that everyone agrees are needed. Until then, pious calls for unity sound suspiciously like finger-pointing in a slow-motion collapse and we can all agree that the PLP’s hands are always “clean”, now this may be because they have never done anything wrong – that they would like you to believe or it is more likely because they really do not do any “heavy lifting”.

If Mitchell truly wanted bipartisanship, he’d show leadership by owning what his administration can fix immediately, admitting what it inherited, and committing to a clear, accountable plan with deadlines and costs. Instead, we get the rhetorical equivalent of a beach recommendation while the lights go out.

Final brew thought: if you ask for trust, earn it. Otherwise “leave it to the professionals” is just polite shorthand for “let us avoid responsibility.” The country deserves better than platitudes. It deserves schedules, budgets, and functioning substations.

END

One would have thought that, out of respect for Emancipation Day, Fred Mitchell might have taken a day off from his now familiar pastime of political revisionism.

Apparently not.

Instead, Bahamians were treated to yet another broadside from the Chairman of the Progressive Liberal Party (PLP), this time directed at the Free National Movement (FNM), its leadership, and even the staff of The Nassau Guardian. Their apparent crime? Reporting and scrutinizing Mr. Mitchell’s own public comments on the continuing Bahamas Power and Light (BPL) crisis.

Imagine attacking the messenger because the message was your own.

What is truly astonishing is Mr. Mitchell’s latest attempt to convince Bahamians that today’s electricity crisis is somehow the FNM’s fault, despite the PLP having been in office since September 2021. Governments inherit challenges—that is true. But governments also inherit opportunities. The question is what they do with them.

When the Davis administration took office, BPL certainly was not a perfect utility. Decades of underinvestment under successive governments had left major structural issues. However, the FNM administration had begun implementing a broader reform strategy that included fuel hedging, refinancing efforts, and plans for new generation intended to stabilize electricity costs and improve reliability.

The fuel hedging programme, negotiated with support from the Inter-American Development Bank (IDB), had already provided consumers with unusually stable fuel charges during a period of volatile oil prices. Planned follow-on hedge transactions scheduled after the 2021 general election were not executed by the incoming administration—a decision the Davis administration has defended but one that has remained highly controversial because critics argue it contributed to significantly higher fuel costs.

Whether one agrees with that decision or not, one fact is difficult to escape: the PLP did not continue every major element of the strategy it inherited. It chose a different course.

Five years later, Bahamians are asking a very simple question.

Has that course produced a better BPL?

The answer is written every time another island experiences widespread outages, every time businesses lose revenue because the power disappears, and every time families wonder whether the next thunderstorm will once again leave them sitting in darkness.

Mr. Mitchell insists the FNM “tried and failed.”

Perhaps.

But what exactly should we call five years of PLP management?

Because if the FNM supposedly failed after beginning a reform programme, what word describes an administration that dismantled significant parts of that programme and has still not delivered the reliable electricity system Bahamians were promised?

Mr. Mitchell also declared:

“The PLP does not stick its finger in the wind and pander…”

Indeed.

At this point it seems less like finger-in-the-wind politics and more like reading tea leaves—or perhaps consulting bones—hoping that political spin will somehow generate electricity where sound policy has not.

One has to wonder whether this statement is intended to justify not only the continuing problems at BPL, but also the government’s handling of other major national projects that have attracted public criticism over the past five years.

The irony is almost too rich.

Mr. Mitchell now complains that newspapers and political opponents have twisted his words.

No, Mr. Mitchell.

They quoted them.

There is a significant difference.

If your own words produce headlines you dislike, perhaps the problem is not the headlines.

Perhaps it is the words.

Political leadership requires accountability, especially after five years in office. The public is entitled to ask difficult questions, and the media is entitled to report the answers—or the absence of them.

Instead of blaming the FNM, blaming the newspapers, or blaming anyone else who dares point out the obvious, perhaps the PLP Chairman should answer the question Bahamians continue to ask:

After nearly five years in government, if the PLP inherited a foundation it believed was flawed, where is the stronger one it promised to build?

Because blaming yesterday’s government does not keep today’s lights on especially when that government is one administration removed.

The Bahamian people deserve better.

END

After receiving my $8.45 Bahamas Power and Light (BPL) credit, I was almost overcome with gratitude. I briefly considered sending Prime Minister Philip Davis a thank-you card. But sarcasm aside, that isn’t today’s issue.

Today’s issue is a statement by Progressive Liberal Party (PLP) Chairman Fred Mitchell, who has once again attempted to convince Bahamians that the current electricity crisis should be laid at the feet of the previous Free National Movement (FNM) administration.

According to reports, Mitchell said New Providence’s electrical grid is now “in a state of collapse” because the FNM “did nothing” to fix it, and therefore FNM Chairman Dr. Duane Sands has no standing to criticize the current administration.

It is a clever piece of political wordplay.

The implication is not merely that the FNM left behind problems. Every government inherits problems. The implication is that five years into the Davis administration, the PLP bears little responsibility for the condition of the very system it has controlled, managed and repeatedly promised to transform.

That is where the argument begins to collapse.

Five Years Is a Long Time

The Davis administration has been in office since September 2021.

During that period, energy reform has been one of the government’s flagship initiatives. The administration has repeatedly announced that it was rebuilding BPL, modernizing the transmission and distribution (T&D) network, and putting the country on a path toward a more reliable electricity supply.

Indeed, the government’s own position has consistently been that the transmission and distribution grid required major investment and that this work was being undertaken through the Bahamas Grid Company and its partnership with Island Grid/Pike.

So, Mr. Mitchell cannot simultaneously argue that:

• the PLP has spent five years fixing the grid; and
• every major failure today remains solely the fault of the FNM.

Both statements cannot be true.

What the FNM Actually Left Behind

There is also important context.

By the time the Minnis administration left office in September 2021, the new Wärtsilä Station A plant had already been commissioned, providing approximately 132 MW of generation capacity under its operating agreement.

Whether one agrees with every aspect of the FNM’s energy policy is a legitimate political debate. The Davis administration itself has heavily criticized the Wärtsilä project, alleging deficiencies in its execution and maintenance.

But that debate concerns generation.

Fred Mitchell’s latest comments concern the transmission and distribution grid—the poles, substations and lines that actually deliver electricity.

That is precisely the area the Davis administration said it intended to overhaul.

Whatever Happened to Pike?

This is where the unanswered questions begin.

The PLP introduced one of the largest energy reform initiatives in modern Bahamian history by entering into a long-term arrangement involving Pike Corporation, operating through Island Grid, to modernize New Providence’s transmission and distribution system. The agreement was promoted as a transformational solution to the grid’s long-standing weaknesses.

Yet in 2026, reports emerged that Island Grid had withdrawn from its management role, senior executives including Eric Pike stepped down, and questions immediately arose about the future of the project. Government officials insisted that investment would continue but offered limited public detail on why the management arrangement ended.

Those developments raise legitimate questions.

• What exactly happened with the Pike arrangement?
• Why did the management relationship end so abruptly?
• What obligations remain under the agreement?
• What measurable improvements have been achieved after millions of dollars in investment?
• Why has the government been reluctant to provide comprehensive public answers regarding the contract?
• What was the state of grid with Pikes sudden departure?

These are questions of accountability—not politics.

Transparency becomes even more important given that controversy has already surrounded whether the full Pike agreement had been tabled in Parliament, with public statements by senior government officials creating confusion over its status.

Responsibility Cannot Be Deferred Forever

Governments frequently remind us that “government is continuous” when taking credit for projects begun by previous administrations.

If that principle applies to successes, it must also apply to responsibility.

After nearly five years in office, the condition of BPL’s transmission and distribution system can no longer be explained solely by decisions made before September 2021.

At some point, ownership replaces inheritance.

At some point, execution replaces promises.

At some point, voters stop asking what was inherited and start asking what was accomplished.

The Real Question

Instead of another voice note blaming an administration that left office five years ago, Bahamians deserve a straightforward accounting.

What measurable improvements has the Davis administration delivered to New Providence’s electrical grid?

What became of the Pike strategy that was supposed to modernize it?

Why has transparency surrounding that agreement remained a recurring issue?

And if the grid is, as Mr. Mitchell now claims, truly “in a state of collapse,” after five years of PLP stewardship, isn’t the first place to look not the Opposition benches—but the Cabinet table?

Political blame may generate headlines.

Reliable electricity powers a country.

The Bahamian people deserve more of the latter and considerably less of the former.

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

END

One of the more refreshing moments in today’s public debate did not come from a politician. It came from Gowon Bowe, Chief Executive Officer of Fidelity Bank & Trust International Limited Group, whose comments in The Nassau Guardian amounted to something many Bahamians have been asking for all along: evidence, transparency and accountability.

That should not be a controversial request. Yet, somehow, it has become one.

Bowe was responding to the Davis administration’s projection that it will end the 2026/2027 fiscal year with a $223.1 million budget surplus. His comments came after Fitch Ratings, one of the world’s leading credit rating agencies, publicly questioned those projections and instead forecast that The Bahamas is more likely to record a fiscal deficit of approximately $64 million rather than a surplus.

According to The Nassau Guardian, Bowe observed:

“None of the international observers have adopted the position that the government has been articulating in their budget communications.”

He added that rather than becoming defensive, the government should ask a simple question:

“Why not?”

Even more importantly, Bowe pointed out that the issue is not necessarily whether the government’s projections are wrong. The real issue is whether the information made available to the public actually supports those optimistic conclusions.

That is a perfectly reasonable position.

In fact, it is the very foundation of responsible governance.

Fool Me Once…

My skepticism has very little to do with political preference and everything to do with recent history.

This is not the first time the Davis administration has projected a budget surplus.

For the past two budget cycles, government officials have repeatedly expressed confidence that they were on track to achieve a surplus or balanced fiscal outcome. Yet the final fiscal results did not fully match those optimistic projections. While the government’s fiscal position has undoubtedly improved compared with the severe deficits experienced during the COVID-19 period, the promised surplus has remained elusive.

That history naturally raises a simple question:

Why should Bahamians simply accept another surplus projection without stronger supporting evidence?

That is precisely the point Bowe appears to be making.

He is not saying the government cannot achieve its target.

He is saying that the public evidence currently available does not sufficiently support the government’s conclusion.

Those are two very different things that the average PLP supporter seems unable to differentiate.

“Provide to Who?”

Perhaps the most astonishing response came not from government officials, but from one of the Progressive Liberal Party (PLP) supporters.

This person question was remarkably simple:

“Provide to who?”

Think about that for a moment.

Provide evidence… to whom?

To the taxpayers?

To the voters?

To Parliament?

To the businesses making investment decisions?

To international credit agencies?

Or perhaps to the Bahamian people who are ultimately paying the bills?

In any healthy democracy, the answer should be obvious.

Governments are accountable to the people.

Transparency is not an optional public relations exercise.

It is a democratic obligation.

When respected financial institutions, independent economists or international credit agencies question government projections, the proper response is not indignation or blind demands for trust.

The appropriate response is evidence.

A Familiar Pattern

Unfortunately, this dismissive attitude toward legitimate public questions is becoming increasingly familiar.

Consider the government’s handling of its plan to recruit hundreds of teachers from Ghana.

Few reasonable people argued that additional teachers were unnecessary. The concern expressed by many educators was the apparent lack of meaningful consultation with local teachers and the Bahamas Union of Teachers before the initiative was announced.

Good governance is not simply about arriving at the right destination.

It is also about respecting the people affected by the journey.

Consultation.

Transparency.

Professional courtesy.

These are not signs of weakness.

They are signs of competent leadership.

Yet increasingly, asking questions seems to be treated as an act of political hostility rather than civic responsibility.

Trust Is Earned

No government—PLP, FNM or otherwise—should expect citizens to suspend critical thinking simply because a minister stands behind a podium and declares that everything is on track.

Trust is earned.

Credibility is built.

And confidence comes from providing evidence that allows independent observers to arrive at the same conclusion as the government itself.

That, incidentally, was exactly the point Gowon Bowe was making.

He was not asking Bahamians to distrust the government.

He was encouraging the government to provide enough information so that trust becomes the natural conclusion—not a compulsory act of faith.

Until then, Bahamians are left with an uncomfortable question:

If even independent international analysts remain unconvinced by the government’s numbers, why should the public be expected to applaud first and ask questions later?

The Bahamian deserves better.

END