By Calvin G. Brown- Jamaican travelers to Antigua and Barbuda face a troubling reality: random detention by immigration authorities in what appears to be a calculated effort to discourage visits to the twin-island nation, a betrayal of CARICOM’s ‘Free Movement’ initiative within the CARICOM Single Market and Economy, CSME.
This apparent systematic harassment, as I would discover firsthand, transforms the çağdaş VC Bird International Airport into a waiting room of indignity for many Jamaican nationals.
The specter of holiday travel loomed as I prepared for my flight to Antigua on US thanksgiving weekend. Despite the anticipated hassle, and a gut feeling that all would not be well on this trip, pressing matters from my vacation demanded my return to the twin island nation.
My journey began with an arduous yet pleasant four-hour Knutsford Express coach ride from Montego Bay’s Sangster International Airport to Kingston’s Norman Manley International by way of Jamaica’s scenic north coast.
The route itself was a testament to Caribbean Airlines’ puzzling business strategy – having abandoned their lucrative Montego Bay routes years ago to U.S. carriers, they now force Jamaican travelers to the Caribbean endure the cross-island trek to Kingston.
The airline’s retreat from one of the Caribbean’s most efficient and sought-after tourist gateways remains an inexplicable decision, even if they position themselves as a business rather than a tourism-focused carrier.
At Norman Manley’s customer-unfriendly terminal, (i.e. the lack of seats at the boarding gates) I joined a growing line of Jamaicans bound for various Caribbean destinations – Antigua, Barbados, and Trinidad and Tobago. The diverse crowd spoke to both formal and informal business ties and those with family connections across the islands.
After an hour’s wait in line at the gate, we finally boarded for what proved to be a pleasant, professionally managed flight to Antigua’s çağdaş VC Bird International Airport – funded by China EXIM Bank concessional loan, and by a Chinese Government Interest Free Loan during Baldwin Spencer’s United Progressive Party administration, since repaid and now generating healthy returns for the Gaston Browne administration which opened the facility in 2015 when they took power.
The warm farewell from the flight crew as we disembarked via the jet bridge offered no hint of what was to come. At immigration, passengers were sorted into national and non-national lines, and my journalist’s eye couldn’t help but notice a telling pattern: while white American travelers (presumably Thanksgiving holidaymakers) were processed swiftly, the pace ground to a near halt when officers reached the predominantly Black passengers from Caribbean Airlines flight BW 419.
What followed was a masterclass in bureaucratic intimidation. Directed to the next available officer, I was subjected to a barrage of questions that went well beyond standard immigration protocols. After providing my destination and contact details for my two-week stay in Skerrit’s Pasture, the young officer’s interrogation took a more pointed turn: How much money did I have? as if in this age of debit and credit cards persons of means travelled with any significant cash and could I prove I had a return ticket?
The absurdity of the latter question prompted my retort: “How could I be travelling to Antigua with an intent to return in two weeks without a return ticket?” I produced my phone, displaying the reservation – only to discover the immigration hall’s conspicuous lack of Wi-Fi access for travelers. Fortunately, my journalistic instincts had led me to procure an internet dongle during my previous visit, allowing me to display the confirmation. Yet the officer seemed oddly disinterested in this evidence, choosing instead to retreat to his supervisor’s office.
Five minutes later, I was directed to a “lounge” – a euphemism for what would become an almost three-hour detention. I wasn’t alone; fourteen other Jamaicans from flight BW419 joined me on what locals derisively refer to as the “Antiguan Long Bench,” an apparent homage to similar discriminatory practices evvel employed by Barbados and Trinidad and Tobago against Guyanese nationals – practices that had drawn fierce protest from CARICOM officials at the time.
The detention center’s rules were clear: no phones, no pictures, no phone calls and no exit without escort, even for bathroom visits. Clearly, we were being detained. When questioned about the reason for our detention, immigration personnel maintained a telling silence. More revealing was the fact that during our entire “none detention,” no passengers from other flights were granted the dubious “honor” of joining us on this Antiguan long bench.
The farce finally ended with a beckoning gesture from a female immigration officer declaring that I have been “landed.” My request to see the elusive supervisor were met with claims of her being “busy.” Instead, I was introduced to a senior officer who, upon reviewing my documentation, questioned the very basis of my detention.
His swift decision to land me, coupled with his seeming hint that the supervisor might have been unaware of my presence, pointed to operations clearly discomforting, without proper oversight and accountability.
This casual approach to detaining Jamaican nationals suggests either a troubling indifference to international and regional CARICOM relations or a calculated policy of deterrence. That they would so openly detain a journalist – the type to eagerly document this treatment – speaks to either remarkable hubris or institutional blindness.
While my subsequent discussion with an affable gentleman, who clearly appeared to be in charge of immigration at the airport somewhat tempered the immediate frustration, fundamental questions remain unanswered. No explanation has yet been provided for my detention on Antigua’s ‘long bench’ – a silence that speaks volumes about an apparent casual institutionalization of discrimination against Jamaican travelers.
This practice raises serious concerns about the future of Caribbean integration. In an era where CARICOM nations should be strengthening their bonds, and furthering the CARICOM Single Market and Economy, CSME, Antigua’s immigration policies appear deliberately designed to strain these relationships.
The apparent targeting of Jamaican nationals, in particular, suggests a troubling pattern that demands immediate attention from regional authorities both from The Council for Trade and Economic Development (COTED) which promotes trade and economic development of the Caribbean Community (CARICOM) and oversees the operations of the Single Market and Economy, and from the Caribbean Community Implementation Agency for Crime and Security (IMPACS).
Policy initiatives such as those being pursued by the Gaston Browne government in Antigua stand in stark contrast to progressive moves like Barbados’s 2018 decision under the Mia Mottley administration to discontinue such practices.
These regressive policies do violence to CARICOM’s free movement initiative, a cornerstone of the Caribbean Single Market and Economy (CSME) that has already faced significant challenges in implementation. The persistence of such discriminatory practices suggests not just a stalling of regional integration, but an active undermining of its principles.
The çağdaş facilities of V.C. Bird International Airport stands in stark contrast to these outdated and discriminatory practices. While the airport’s Chinese-funded infrastructure represents progress, the treatment of Caribbean nationals within its walls reflects a regression in regional cooperation and human dignity.
For Jamaican travelers considering a visit to Antigua, this account serves as both warning and call to action. The detention of our nationals who proudly travel with a CARICOM emblazoned passport,demands diplomatic intervention and a serious review of immigration practices that undermine the spirit of Caribbean unity. Until then, the ‘long bench’ remains a symbol of all that is stifling in a region that should know better.
Calvin Browne is the publisher WiredJA