“Make hay while the sun shines.”
“Strike while the iron is hot.”
These are just some of the invaluable proverbs bequeathed to us by our foreparents – people who perhaps had less exposure to the outer world, fewer resources and none of today’s fancy technology. Yet, somehow, they understood a simple but profound concept:
“BUILD YUH TOILET BEFORE YUH READY TO SH*T!”
Our ancestors understood the dangers of being ill-prepared. They knew intimately that there was no greater shame than being bitten twice. They understood that living a life of mere reactivity was a waste of time. It was surrendering to chaos.
Preparation was not just a habit for our ancestors. It was a survival tactic, and it came in many forms, even something as simple as constructing living quarters downstairs to avoid climbing stairs in old age.
After acquiring a piece of land but being unable to construct the proper house right away, our ancestors would build a little makeshift shack way at the back of the lot, just to leave the majority of the land in front for the actual home they planned to build later. This is quite contrary to what we see today, with contractors digging up newly built roads to lay pipes or install utility poles, or trucks wrecking newly built roads to construct others.
Our ancestors thought ahead. They understood that circumstances could change, and they made provisions for that change even when they did not yet have the means to accomplish everything they wanted.
Fast forward to modern Guyana…
We have artificial intelligence, consultants, advisors who have advisors, apps, strategists, task forces, committees and system improvement specialists, yet somehow, we have mastered the art of doing everything after the fact.
Unpreparedness and Indiscipline have become our gods.
We also appear to be in reactive mode.
Potholes are filled, and derelict vehicles are removed only after some unfortunate soul or souls are lost. Mining pits are inspected only after bodies have to be retrieved. Domestic violence becomes everyone’s concern only after another wife or mother is killed. Drains are cleaned after the rains come. National clean-up exercises are launched only after refuse has grown legs and wings. Mental health becomes a national conversation only after another life is lost to suicide. The dangers of speeding are preached only after another horrific crash.
We don’t prevent anymore. We just endure.
“Wha come sah do”
The Mahdia Dormitory fire did not open our eyes.
The MV Barima tragedy, which has claimed the lives of more than 100 people, is perhaps the latest and most painful exhibit in this never-ending cycle.
Drug testing? That conversation came after the tragedy.
The Public Works Minister, Bishop Juan Edghill, disclosed that several crew members tested positive for drugs after the incident.
The question is not only what those tests revealed. The bigger question is whether routine drug testing formed part of maritime safety procedures before July 18.
Was there a system in place to ensure that those responsible for carrying passengers across our waterways were regularly assessed and fit for duty?
Despite calls from Opposition parties for previous testing records to be made public, the Government has not provided such information.
And while we are on the issue of fitness to operate vessels, another obvious question emerges: Were captains and crew routinely breathalysed for alcohol or subjected to fitness-for-duty checks before taking control of vessels?
Were there systems designed to identify risks before passengers boarded, or have these questions only become urgent because tragedy forced us to ask them?
The President, a little over a week ago, announced the establishment of an audit body to review the safety and compliance standards of marine vessels operating in Guyana.
It would have been useful for the citizenry to also know when the last comprehensive review was conducted. Because, let us be honest, the MV Barima did not become old on July 18, 2026.
The vessel was approaching nine decades of service. We did not suddenly wake up one morning and realise it had become a safety concern. It aged year after year while carrying passengers and cargo under a system that allowed it to continue operating.
The audit did not come before tragedy. The tragedy triggered the audit.
And now comes the latest revelation…
On Tuesday evening’s Issues in the News programme, Attorney General Anil Nandlall disclosed that his Chambers is reviewing contracts related to the Port Kaituma wharf project to determine whether negligence exists and whether legal action should follow.
Think about that for a second.
The Port Kaituma wharf developed structural problems. The MV Ma Lisha could not commence operations on that route. The MV Barima remained in service. Then the MV Barima sank.
Whether one event is connected to the other is for investigators to determine. But the question remains: If the contractual arrangements surrounding the wharf are important enough to be examined today, after lives have been lost, why were they not important enough to be examined before? It should not have taken a national tragedy.
The Commission of Inquiry into the MV Barima tragedy will undoubtedly serve an important purpose. It must determine what happened, who was responsible and what must change.
But more importantly, the Commission must recommend measures that are enforceable — not just recommendations that look good on paper and collect dust on shelves.
Because the next tragedy will not only come by sea. It can come by air. It can come by land. It can come anywhere our systems fail to act before disaster arrives.
Tragedy must not first befall our people before we begin thinking about how to make systems better. Perhaps the reason we fail to notice these warning signs is that we have become too accustomed to them. We have normalised dysfunction until it feels like routine.
Our ancestors probably had another proverb for that.
Perhaps it was something like the frog sitting comfortably in the karahi, enjoying what feels like a jacuzzi, unaware that the water around him is slowly boiling and he is about to become soup.
Build yuh toilet…
Before yuh ready to sh*t.
