Dear Editor,
When a government minister declares that the National Breakfast Programme “can never be deemed a bad programme,” the conversation has already shifted from children’s welfare to political self‑preservation. The issue is not whether feeding children is a good idea – it is – but whether the current model is capable of delivering safe, nutritious, consistent meals every morning. On this, the record speaks louder than any press release. The Ministry’s instinctive response to criticism has been deflection, labelling concerns as “political mileage” rather than an opportunity to fix a programme that touches tens of thousands of young lives.
The scale of the operation is frequently used as a badge of honour, but in reality, is a logistical nightmare. Officials boast that the programme has expanded from around 11,000 beneficiaries in 2022 to more than 51,000 today, serviced by over 380–388 private caterers nationwide. That expansion, however, is precisely what exposes the structural weakness at the heart of the current approach. Quality, equity and nutritional value are being outsourced to hundreds of profit‑driven suppliers whom the Ministry cannot realistically supervise in real time. The larger the network, the more gaps appear between the policy on paper and the meal that ends up in a child’s stomach
The Ministry insists that complaints are “isolated incidents,” pointing to verification logs and field reports as proof that there are no “widespread disparities.” But look closely at how this verification system works. Payment to caterers depends on Dietary Tracker Sheets stamped and signed by headteachers, while a handful of field officers rotate through schools once a month and out- sourced kitchens are inspected without notice once every school term. This is not ironclad oversight; it is bureaucracy. It captures what is convenient to record, not necessarily what children actually receive on any given morning.
In practice, this architecture invites corner‑cutting. Caterers operate on fixed‑price contracts where every dollar saved on ingredients, portion size or preparation translates directly into profit. Headteachers, already stretched thin, must choose between disrupting breakfast for hundreds of pupils or quietly signing off on meals they know are not ideal, because “no tracker, no payment” also means no food tomorrow. Teachers and administrators themselves receive the same breakfast, blurring the line between independent oversight and shared resignation to whatever is delivered. When the system relies on forms, not with on‑the‑spot control of kitchens and supplies, the truth is whatever the paperwork says it is.
There is an alternative, and it begins with honesty about the limits of outsourcing. Instead of clinging to an unwieldy network of external caterers, the Ministry should pilot in‑house breakfast programmes at selected schools. These schools would have fully staffed kitchens, centralised procurement, and direct supervision by trained nutritionists and food safety officers. Ingredients would be purchased through transparent, standardised procurement channels, allowing government to enforce clear quality specifications and benefit from economies of scale.
In‑house kitchens also permit genuine real‑time monitoring. With simple tools – temperature logs, digital stock records, and, where appropriate, internal cameras focused on preparation areas – programme managers can see what is happening as meals are being made, not weeks later in a report. When complaints arise, the Minister and the programme director would have immediately on hand, what was cooked, how many portions were served, and whether any deviation from the approved menu occurred. They could correct problems quickly instead of retreating into defensive statements about “logs” and “isolated incidents.”
Crucially, a properly designed pilot would generate hard numbers. It would compare outsourced and in‑house models on cost per meal, nutritional quality, punctuality, wastage and student outcomes such as attendance and classroom concentration. If the current system is as sound as its defender’s claim, it will withstand the scrutiny. If not, the evidence will justify a phased shift towards a model where the state assumes full responsibility for what it says it is already guaranteeing.
The National Breakfast Programme is funded by the people of Guyana and exists in their children’s names. Those children deserve more than public relations and political one‑upmanship; they deserve a system built for their health, not for the convenience of contractors or the ego of officials. A government truly confident in its programme would not insult critics; it would embrace a rigorous, transparent evaluation and an in‑house pilot. Anything less is an admission that, behind the glowing rhetoric, the nutritional needs of our children remain a risk the Ministry is willing to outsource.