Dear Editor,
The fresh term of Guyana’s government has brought with it an aggressive campaign to sweep clean our country’s public spaces. The vision behind this—orderly markets, visible trash receptacles, healthier environments—should be welcome to everyone who dreams of a better Guyana. No one, least of all those who shop or live amid mounting garbage or chaotic roadside stalls, wants filth or confusion to define our communities.
But listen to the voices now rising from Vreed-en-Hoop, Parika, Buxton, New Amsterdam and beyond—voices of men and women who, overnight, have watched the places where they eked out a living scraped away with a few days’ notice. Vendors, mechanics, and small stallholders who for years provided “grab-and-go” groceries, food, and household supplies to neighbours and passersby—now told to dismantle what, to them, was not clutter, but sustenance, support, and communal identity.
“Beautification” is a worthy aim—but when was it agreed that dignity and fairness would be left by the roadside, alongside the shacks and old tires? Many of these same vendors, mechanics, and shopkeepers stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the ruling party in the last campaign, energized by promises of a share in Guyana’s new prosperity. Instead, their reward has been a cold edict to clear out, often with nowhere to go and no alternative except to watch their hard-earned source of income vanish.
Notices for removal have been as short as three days—an indignity that betrays a lack of empathy for their daily struggles.
Let’s be clear: yes, illegal vending, roadside mechanics, and dumping create hazards and discomfort for all. Yes, the use of public reserves for private gain cannot go on forever. But improvement must mean more than replacing working poor with flower beds. A truly progressive government would have invested first in inclusive dialogue: town-hall meetings, phased transitions, fair warning, and compensation or relocation where possible. Instead, the campaign often feels like judgment delivered from up high, rather than renewal achieved alongside those most affected.
There are glimpses of better ways. In some regions, officials have begun to consult vendors on new market spaces and to promise improved stalls and amenities at rebuilt tarmacs, pledging that “everyone benefits from safe and structured vending spaces”. This must be the rule, not the rare exception.
If we are striving for a “One Guyana” where all can prosper, then those labouring at our margins—vendors, small mechanics, tinkerers—must be treated as full citizens, not clutter to be seen only when convenient and discarded when “progress” demands it. True revival of our nation is not just about neat sidewalks or clean gutters, but about the respect shown to its people in every act of governance.
Let’s build a clean, just Guyana—not on the backs of the vulnerable, but shoulder to shoulder with them.