Dear Editor,
The newly re-elected Government of Guyana has wasted no time in rolling out its ambitious campaign to “revamp” the country’s physical and social landscape. In the wake of promises of a better life for all, the authorities have moved briskly to beautify market areas, install new receptacles for garbage, and curb the chronic problem of littering and illegal dumping. These long-neglected environmental issues have been eyesores for years, costing the country its civic pride and putting public health at risk.
But the current cleanup drive has not stopped there. Roadside vending, makeshift mechanic shops, and tyre repair stalls that have sprung up along government reserves are now being dismantled in a broad effort to restore order to public spaces. Vehicles, kiosks, and temporary sheds are being removed with little notice—a move that, while consistent with law and good urban planning, has left a bitter aftertaste for many.
Few would argue against the need for a tidier, more organized environment. The cluttered sidewalks and haphazard businesses have sometimes obstructed traffic, created sanitation hazards, and given rise to noise and congestion. Yet, alongside those realities lies another truth: for countless vendors and roadside workers, these informal setups represented their only source of livelihood. For many patrons, they were also sources of convenience—places to grab a quick meal, a bunch of plantains, or an urgently needed spare part.
This is why the manner in which the campaign was executed feels harsh and disheartening. A transformation of this kind should have been rolled out in a more humane, consultative, and transitional way. The government could have explored options such as relocation incentives, formalization grants, or phased enforcement supported by dialogue with community leaders.
Instead, those who once rallied in open support of the ruling party’s campaign now find themselves swept aside without meaningful engagement.
Guyana’s renewal drive holds great promise, but its success will not be measured by how many stalls or shacks are cleared—it will hinge on how fairly and compassionately it treats the people behind them. Development that forgets its human face will always feel incomplete.