Dear Editor,
For years, Guyanese have endured a relentless barrage of world-beating statistics from the Government—boasts of the “fastest-growing economy on the planet,” GDP per capita projected to hit a staggering Int$94,000 (PPP) in 2026, and an oil-powered Ferrari roaring at 23% expansion. Yet beneath this gleaming hood lies a grim paradox: personal remittances from the diaspora remain stubbornly constant at over $500 million USD annually, oil revenues or not. These are not optional extras but the quiet, desperate sacrifices of Guyanese abroad propping up families back home amid inflation fuelled by the very boom politicians parade. Enter columnist Peeping Tom’s recent Kaieteur News piece, “Should overseas-based Guyanese qualify for the cash grant?”—a stinging call for exclusion that reeks of selective amnesia, moral shortsightedness, and rigged arithmetic dressed as prudence.
Peeping Tom’s “dilution” argument collapses like a house of cards under basic scrutiny. He wails that including the diaspora—half of Guyana’s population—would stretch fixed funds thin, citing past grants’ G$60 billion cost for over 600,000 recipients. But here’s the fatal flaw: budgets are pre-allocated; exclusion doesn’t magically expand the pot, it merely slams the door on proven contributors in an act of arbitrary gatekeeping. The inaugural cash grant rollout made no such resident-only distinction, setting a universal precedent that Peeping Tom now conveniently ignores. His pivot to exclusion isn’t principled evolution—it’s meritless opportunism, blind to the diaspora’s unwavering USD $500 million lifeline. Through oil windfalls and economic hiccups alike, these remittances have held steady, outpacing local wages and filling the chasm between government hype and household reality. Grandmothers in Berbice and mothers in Essequibo don’t queue at Western Union for sport; they do it because the “Ferrari” leaves them in the dust.
This oversight isn’t mere lapse—it’s a profound moral failing. Peeping Tom champions, the “needy” locals enduring “hard years,” yet glosses over how diaspora dollars buy their groceries, pay school fees, and stave off despair in a nation where minimum wages mock soaring costs. Excluding them isn’t charity beginning at home; it’s ingratitude to the kin who built that home from afar. The author’s ethos—rooted in equity, accountability, and unyielding civic consciousness—demands better: true justice recognises moral citizenship unbound by borders. All Guyanese, resident or roaming, grind for this nation’s promise; punishing one half for the sins of uneven distribution indicts not them, but the system’s architects.
Consider the devastating flipped-script What if the diaspora, incensed by this betrayal, simply halts the flow? No more steady USD $500 million to cushion the needy Peeping Tom pretends to protect. Western Union lines empty, baskets go unfilled, poverty surges—not in some abstract abroad, but in the very heartlands he lionizes. His stance isn’t safeguarding resources; it’s courting self-inflicted devastation, mistaking exclusionary muscle for moral rigor. Guyana’s real engine isn’t oil alone, but the uncelebrated diaspora whose constancy exposes the arrested development beneath the stats.
Peeping Tom should reconsider his misguided salvo before it fuels the very hardship he decries. The cash grant debate isn’t about dilution—it’s a referendum on gratitude, equity, and vision. Honour the sacrifices that keep Guyana running, or watch the paradox devour us all. Guyana’s diasporans stands firm: inclusion isn’t largesse; it’s justice overdue.