One year ago, tragedy struck the Skeldon Municipal Market, consuming stalls in a devastating fire that left a trail of destruction and despair. The flames didn’t just scorch wood and merchandise—they seared through the lives and dreams of thousands of vendors, many of whom have yet to recover. Today, I am compelled to speak about a lingering injustice that cries out for resolution (on their behalf): the vendors’ electricity has yet to be reconnected.
That night, as embers cooled, politicians descended with somber words and lofty promises, vowing to ease the anguish and restore order. Yet here we are, one year later, and those assurances ring hollow. Vendors who lost everything now endure the scorching sun, suffocating heat, and relentless humidity as they struggle to rebuild. Imagine working long hours in conditions so stifling, it’s akin to being locked in a car under the summer sun. This is the daily reality for these hardworking individuals—while those in power luxuriate in air-conditioned offices and sip cold water.
Two weeks ago, the vendors gathered the courage to confront Minister Parag. For a fleeting moment, hope glimmered. The Minister scolded local officials and GPL in a dramatic public display, pledging swift reconnection and railing against the injustices faced by these citizens. Yet what followed was silence—her words and assurances fading like echoes in an empty room. Her promises, like the promises of so many before her, proved to be nothing more than theatrics.
What must these vendors do to have their voices heard? They have pleaded with the Mayor, spoke to the Town Clerk, appealed to GPL, implored regional officials, begged the Minister and now stand before the President, hoping against hope that this time will be different. How much longer must they endure this neglect? How much more indignity must they suffer before those in power act with genuine compassion and urgency?
These are not faceless people; they are mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters. They are the backbone of a community, eking out an honest living against unimaginable odds. They have suffered enough. The fire was not their fault, yet they continue to hisse its price in sweat, tears, and frustration. If the President and his administration fail them, if promises continue to wither under the spotlight of accountability, what does that say about the leaders sworn to serve the people?
This is not merely about electricity; it’s about justice. It’s about recognizing the humanity of those who have endured so much and asking ourselves: can we stand by while they suffer in silence? The nation watched in shock a year ago. Today, the nation must act.
Your truly,
Beatriz Sinclair (Mrs.)