On any given afternoon in Guyana, you might find an eleven-year-old girl laughing, carefree, and full of life. Adriana Younge was that girl. She went to the Double Day International Hotel in Tuschen for what should have been a simple family outing. Tragically, she never came home.
The next day, following nearly 20 hours of fear and desperate searching, Adriana’s lifeless body was found in the very swimming pool she had entered the day before. Her family had waited through the night—praying, hoping, and pleading. But in the end, they were met with silence, stillness, and heartbreak no parent should ever have to bear.
What followed was not clarity—but contradiction. The Guyana Police Force initially stated that security footage showed Adriana leaving the hotel compound in a vehicle. That claim was later retracted. No apology. No explanation. Just confusion. Just pain.An official autopsy determined the cause of death was drowning. Her family disagreed. They had seen her body. They pointed to bruises and swelling—injuries they could not reconcile with an accidental drowning. Determined to find the truth, the family sent Adriana’s remains to the United States for a second autopsy.
That examination confirmed drowning and ruled out foul play. Yet, even the independent pathologist urged further investigation, cautioning that drowning is often a diagnosis of exclusion—rendered only when no other cause is evident.
Because this case is not simple, and something still feels wrong.How does a child disappear for nearly a full day at a hotel with cameras, staff, and guests? How does no one notice? Why did the story change so many times?The authorities say they followed the evidence and did their job. But the public remains unconvinced. Adriana’s mother isn’t convinced. Her father isn’t. Her classmates aren’t. This country isn’t.What the people feel is not just sorrow—it is betrayal.
It is fear. It is the realization that if this could happen to Adriana, it could happen to any child. And if this many questions can remain unanswered despite national attention, how many other cases are quietly brushed aside?In the days that followed, protests erupted. Some turned chaotic. Buildings were damaged. The streets filled with anger, grief, and a single, united cry: Her life mattered. Adriana Younge mattered.
And her story cannot be swept under an autopsy report and labeled “closed.”President Irfaan Ali visited the grieving family and pledged support. A Canadian consultant reportedly reviewed the case and expressed confidence in the police investigation. But those are statements. What the country needs is truth—not only a medical cause of death but a truth that sees the child behind the file, the family behind the statistics, and the silence behind the headlines.
Justice is not always a verdict in a court of law. Sometimes, it’s a country refusing to forget. A mother’s resolve. A father’s agony. A community’s demand to be heard.Adriana Younge should have been protected. She should have been safe. She should be here—laughing, learning, and dreaming. Instead, her family holds only memories. Her friends carry confusion and grief. Her community and her country are left asking why no one saw her sooner, why no one saved her.
Perhaps we will never know. Maybe the whole truth is lost beneath the water that took her. But we must keep asking. We must keep caring. Because the moment we stop is the moment we accept this as normal.And that is a moment this country cannot afford to lose.Adriana was just a child. She deserved to grow up. She deserved the chance to live, to love, to become whatever her heart desired. Now, all we can do is say her name—and ensure it is not forgotten.
What happens next is the most challenging question of all. Will her family try to let time and faith ease the pain? Or will they continue to fight, despite the weariness, because something still doesn’t add up? There may be no single path forward. But one truth remains: sometimes, the pursuit of justice is the only thing that keeps a broken heart beating.
