Many Guyanese who travel, whether to distant or not-so-distant lands, know the experience all too well: you say you’re from Guyana, and you’re met with confusion. Then comes the explanation— “No, not Ghana… Guyana, in South America.”
Today, that conversation is changing. More people know the name. More are asking questions. More are looking. Guyanese abroad have, without knowing it, become ambassadors of the country we love and cherish.
Recently, during a live restaurant review by a US-based food influencer, an overseas-based Guyanese proudly declared that “Guyana is a land of opportunity.”
Many at home would agree that our country has indeed become a land of possibilities. In some cases, a haven for our brothers and sisters facing worsening economic hardships in countries like Venezuela and Cuba. They now look to Guyana for stability and a chance at a better life. As Guyanese, we should be proud that perhaps for the first time in our history, we are a beacon of hope for so many.
Still, beneath this growing reputation lies a quieter reality unfolding within our own communities that should make us, Guyanese, question: Opportunity for whom?
It should not be lost on us that many traditional “mom and pop” shops have gone belly up within the last decade or so. Once flourishing hardware stores and buzzing grocery shops have fallen off the map. Many Guyanese-owned restaurants have shuttered, taking along with them unique flavours and beautiful memories.
In their place, a new model has emerged.
Across the coast, Chinese-owned supermarkets have expanded rapidly, decimating the small business landscape. This is a fact.
With greater access to capital, wider supply chains, and the ability to offer goods at lower prices, these businesses have introduced a level of competition that many small, Guyanese business owners struggle to withstand.
The landscape has become a fight for survival for many. Only the strong and bold stand a chance of remaining competitive. In some cases, it is by sheer loyalty that some Guyanese businesses remain functioning. But with rising cost of living and corners to cut, saving a dime can easily become worth more than decades of patronage.
Between Vreed-en-Hoop and Wales on the West Bank of Demerara alone, there are over 40 Chinese-owned supermarkets, with entire communities now hosting multiple supermarkets within close proximity. Some are even located next to each other.
In the village of La Parfaite Harmonie, there are more than 15 Chinese-owned supermarkets that sell everything from laxative to 2-inch headless nails.
Many Chinese-owned supermarkets have items on the shelves that are labelled in languages other than English. In Guyana, this is illegal but rarely do we see enforcement exercises.
According to the Food and Drug Act, Chapter 34:03 Part II Section 6 (1 & 2) and the Food and Drug Regulations Part II, Regulation 18, every imported food, drug, cosmetic, or medical device must display the exact name of the product, the complete address of the manufacturer, and the country of origin in English. The absence of English labeling, especially on food products, not only breaches these legal requirements but also prevents consumers from accessing vital information about what they are purchasing for consumption.
Some even sell alcoholic beverages that are consumed on the premises in view of the public. Large dumpsters, empty cardboard boxes, plastic wrappings, cigarette ends and empty beer bottles dot community roads. Music being blasted into the late hours of the night by intoxicated patrons, the openly crude language and drug use are just some of the inconveniences. The hijacking of public spaces as parking lots in communities not designed for such expansive operations also results in streets being rendered impassable. All these occur in full view of the powers that be.
It is also not hard to notice that across communities, more and more Guyanese food spots are quietly disappearing, replaced by large foreign fast-food franchises offering aggressive promotions and convenience that small vendors simply cannot match.
The souse and black pudding vendor at the Vreed-en-Hoop Stelling and even the food operators along the Plaisance Railway Embankment cannot compete with “buy one large pizza and get a medium one free.”
While one can argue that these shifts could be considered a matter of citizens’ preference and the right to choose, the fact remains that many of our traditional Guyanese foods are far more nutritious than fast food. Perhaps health officials can direct more efforts to educating citizens on the importance of making healthier choices.
Also, the roadside vendors, the small family-run kitchens, the men and women who wake before dawn to prepare pepperpot, cook-up rice, etc. are not just businesses, they are living expressions of Guyanese identity and cultural consciousness.
Just as Kalongie, Doolpitti, Dhalpitti, and Kharahee have gradually faded from Guyana’s vibrant food scene, many of our traditional foods stand on the edge of fading away. Except the eggball. The eggball is too iconic, too beloved, and too deeply woven into our culture to ever die. Long live, the eggball!
It is undeniable that there are more fast food restaurants now – at least one in every community. Sheriff Street has many. The deals are attractive, but sometimes too attractive to ignore. Quantity, yes—but quality?
Also, tourists who come to our country want a true Guyanese experience. Tax breaks should be provided to Guyanese food businesses for at least keeping our culture through food alive.
If we are to accept that these shifts are products of our evolution as a land of opportunity, then where does that leave those who struggle to keep their doors open? Should more incentives be afforded to Guyanese-owned small businesses? Should foreign businesses be required by law to execute meaningful corporate social responsibility initiatives?
Traditional Guyanese owned small businesses, especially grocers were popular for their “trust” transactions, essentially offering credit to customers. That “trust” came easy because of the common bond of being from the same village. The same cannot be said for foreign food franchises and supermarkets. Fall short a $100 and find out.
Clearly, progress must never come at the cost of identity. Development should not mean displacement. As Guyana rises, so too must its people – its vendors, its culture, its flavour.
Opportunity cannot be something we only celebrate in headlines or from afar.
The question, then, is not whether Guyana is a land of opportunity, but whether we are prepared to ensure that opportunity is inclusive, protected and puts Guyanese first.
