Dear Editor,
The vibrant hues of Phagwah have been forever stained by the murky, turbulent reality of a tragedy that was as predictable as it was preventable. As the community of Enterprise grapples with the hollow silence left by ten-year-old Jadon and his sister 9-year-old Tiana, the public is being fed the usual bureaucratic hushes and the slow-grinding gears of an impending cover-up. We must refuse to let this be buried under the convenient label of a “tragic accident.” This was a failure of engineering, a failure of oversight, and a grotesque breach of the statutory duty of care owed to every citizen of this Republic.
The mechanics of this tragedy lie in the invisible violence of industrial water management. What the public sees as a common drainage trench, Guyana Water Incorporated (GWI) has repurposed into a high-velocity discharge zone for its backwashing operations. By flushing thousands of gallons of water at high pressure into an unlined, earthen channel, GWI did more than just move water; they created a dynamic hydraulic hazard. This constant “rip current effect” has silently excavated the earth, transforming a shallow village drain into a ten-foot-deep abyss—a “death trap” hidden beneath a deceptive surface. To a child seeking water for a festival of joy, the surface looked like a resource; in reality, it was an industrial suction point from which there was no escape.
Where were the guardians of our safety? The Occupational Safety and Health (OSH) Act Cap 99:10 is not a suggestion; it is a mandate. Section 9 explicitly requires occupiers to ensure that the public is not exposed to risks to their safety. Similarly, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) permits governing such facilities are contingent upon rigorous safety protocols, including erosion control and the clear demarcation of discharge zones. Yet, at the Bachelor’s Adventure facility, there was no fence, no “Danger” signage, and not even a single strip of yellow warning tape to signal that the dynamics of this waterway had been artificially and dangerously altered.
The culpability here is shared and deep. We must call out the OSH Department and the EPA for their pronounced failure to inspect and certify this location as compliant. Their silence is a confession of their own negligence. Had a private contractor dug a ten-foot pit in a residential area and left it unguarded, the state would have moved with predatory alacrity to extract “justice.” But when the offender is a state agency, the regulatory bodies suddenly lose their teeth, choosing instead to shield one another in a circle of administrative protection.
We refuse to accept the narrative of “wandering children” as a shield for reckless governance. The onus of safeguarding an industrial hazard falls squarely on the Authorities Having Jurisdiction. You cannot create a 10-foot-deep hydraulic trap in a communal space and then blame the victims for falling into it. If the safety of our children is secondary to the convenience of “backwater disposal,” then our regulatory framework is not just broken—it is complicit. The demise of Jadon and Tiana is not just on the hands of those who failed to build a fence; it is on the hands of every inspector who looked at that unfenced trench and chose to walk away.