Guyana’s 13th Parliament is not just another sitting of the National Assembly, it is shaping up to be one of the most unpredictable in modern history. The PPP/C enters with a working majority, enough to push through ordinary legislation but far short of the two-thirds needed for constitutional change. Across the aisle, the once-dominant APNU has been dethroned as the official opposition, replaced by the fledgling We Invest in Nationhood (WIN). For the first time in decades, the parliamentary battlefield will be fought on three fronts: a governing party with comfortable numbers, a new opposition claiming the mantle of legitimacy, and a humbled traditional opposition scrambling to survive.
This unusual configuration could bring innovation or instability. On the bright side, the government has the space to deliver sweeping social reforms. Free university tuition, increased pensions, a higher minimum wage, and reduced electricity costs were bold promises that resonated with voters. With billions in oil revenues now flowing, the PPP/C can convert those pledges into real policies. For many households struggling with cost-of-living pressures, such gains would mark a transformative shift. If done right, this Parliament could become the one remembered for turning newfound oil wealth into visible improvements in ordinary lives.
But the stakes cut both ways. A divided opposition could weaken oversight at the very moment it is most needed. Parliamentary committees, especially the Public Accounts Committee, have historically been key to accountability. If WIN and APNU focus on undermining each other rather than the government, scrutiny will collapse. And the temptation for the ruling party to dominate every committee is real. That path might deliver short-term control, but it will erode the credibility of Parliament itself.
Then there is the question of leadership. WIN’s rise comes with baggage: its leader remains under U.S. sanctions, casting a shadow over its credibility at home and abroad. The government may quietly welcome a compromised opposition, but Guyana’s international partners will not. A Parliament that becomes a stage for scandal or internal squabbles risks undermining the country’s global standing just as it needs diplomatic backing on the Essequibo border crisis. In this sense, political gamesmanship in the chamber could weaken Guyana’s hand in its most pressing national security challenge.
The structural weaknesses in Guyana’s democracy are another test. International observer missions praised the 2025 elections for their peaceful conduct but flagged glaring loopholes, chief among them, campaign finance. Without stronger laws, money will continue to pour into politics unchecked, fueling suspicion that the system is rigged. Parliament has the power to fix this, but will it? Or will the majority party choose to preserve its advantages, leaving reforms to gather dust while public distrust grows?
Even if the politics stabilizes, the execution risks remain daunting. Turning oil revenues into lasting progress requires more than bold speeches. Hospitals, schools, electricity grids, and roads demand efficient planning, procurement, and oversight. If government spending outpaces state capacity, cost overruns and half-finished projects will multiply. Worse, inequality may deepen if some communities feel excluded from the oil dividend. Parliamentarians on both sides should demand better data, on poverty, jobs, and services, to ensure public money is actually closing gaps, not widening them.
Meanwhile, expectations are soaring. Citizens are looking to oil wealth as the answer to everything, from unemployment to healthcare shortages to power outages. But oil is volatile. Prices fluctuate, and revenues are never guaranteed. If this Parliament spends recklessly in good years, Guyana could face a fiscal crisis when the cycle turns. The Natural Resource Fund offers guardrails, but it will only work if Parliament treats it as a sacred trust, not a political piggy bank.
The story of the 13th Parliament could unfold in two starkly different directions. It could be the chamber that proved Guyana was ready for oil-era governance, transparent, disciplined, and focused on people’s welfare. Or it could be the chamber remembered for squandered opportunities, weakened oversight, and political theater that left citizens disillusioned.
At its best, this Parliament can unite on core national priorities: ensuring Essequibo’s defense, strengthening electoral rules, managing oil responsibly, and upgrading services for the population. At its worst, it will descend into factional battles, missed reforms, and shallow point-scoring that leaves Guyana more fragile than before.
This is why the 13th Parliament feels so different. It is not merely about who holds the majority; it is about whether the country can seize a moment of extraordinary potential or sink into the traps that have consumed so many resource-rich states before. The promises are vast, the pitfalls just as deep.
The stakes could not be higher.
