In the traditional Guyanese household, a father is expected to be firm but fair. He does not indulge in short-term rewards at the expense of long-term growth. He provides, protects, and most importantly, prepares his family to thrive without him. This ideal may not always be met in practice, but it remains an expectation, one that serves as a useful benchmark when assessing our national leaders. Yet, time and again, Guyanese politicians have proven themselves to be the opposite of fatherly. Their conduct is often shortsighted, self-serving, and marked by a deep reluctance to exercise the kind of guidance and sacrifice that true leadership demands.
We are not speaking here about being warm or emotionally expressive. Fatherliness in politics is not about tone or tenderness. It is about responsibility, prudence, and foresight. A good father does not promise more than he can deliver, nor does he play one child against the other. But too many of our politicians have built their careers doing just that, using divisive rhetoric, encouraging racial insecurity, and campaigning on unrealistic promises with little intention to deliver.
Guyana’s political culture is rife with paternalism, but without the substance to justify it. Politicians often speak to the public as if to children, lecturing, patronizing, withholding information “for their own good”, yet they fail to act with the integrity or self-restraint of a responsible father figure. They are quick to claim credit when things go well but slow to admit fault when they fall short. They blame external forces for internal decay, and often see the electorate not as citizens to be empowered, but as dependents to be managed.
This is perhaps most clearly seen in the way our leaders approach development. Much of the current administration’s rhetoric centers on transformation: new infrastructure, expanding oil revenues, job creation. But beneath these announcements lies a pattern of reactive, piecemeal decision-making. There is little evidence of a long-term strategy that prioritizes social cohesion, environmental sustainability, or the ethical management of wealth. A father who squanders his salary on showy purchases while ignoring the long-term needs of his children would rightly be called irresponsible. Should we not say the same of those in public office who behave similarly with national resources?
It is also worth asking how fatherly our politicians are when it comes to protecting the vulnerable. In many Guyanese homes, a father is expected to stand up for the weakest in the family. Yet migrant communities, under-resourced regions, and young people continue to face neglect. Law enforcement agencies lack consistent support. The education system, especially outside of Georgetown, continues to underperform. Health care remains uneven. These are not new problems. Their persistence points to a failure of moral leadership, not just policy execution.
This is not to say that Guyana has never seen principled leadership. There have been moments in our history when individuals in public life rose above partisanship and acted in the country’s long-term interest. But these moments have been rare, and often quickly undone. The dominant political style in Guyana continues to reward short-term loyalty over long-term vision. Until this changes, we are unlikely to see leaders who think like fathers, leaders who know they will not always be loved, but act anyway in ways that secure a better future for all.
True fatherliness requires a deep sense of duty and the strength to choose what is right over what is easy. Guyanese politics needs more of this spirit. Our country is no longer a child. It deserves leaders who treat it not as a means to personal advancement, but as a nation ready to be guided with care, wisdom, and seriousness.
