THERE are moments in a nation’s life when leadership is measured not by speeches, slogans, or social-media performances, but by its response to adversity. Last Saturday’s extraordinary rainfall, which inundated communities across Guyana before dawn, presented precisely such a moment.
By sunrise, the government’s machinery had already been activated. President, Dr Mohamed Irfaan Ali convened senior officials, including Vice-president Bharrat Jagdeo, ministers, regional leaders, engineers, and technical personnel. Pumps were deployed, drainage systems mobilised, emergency assessments conducted, and affected communities visited. Across the coastland, public officials moved from village to village confronting a challenge that nature, not politics, had imposed upon the country.
The images emerging throughout the day were not of celebration but of concern. Ministers stood in flooded streets. Regional officials met anxious residents. Engineers monitored drainage infrastructure. Community leaders listened to stories of loss and frustration. The mood was serious because the situation demanded seriousness.
Yet in modern politics, crises often attract a different breed of actor. Where some see suffering as a call to service, others see it as an opportunity for spectacle.
Into this atmosphere stepped Azruddin Mohamed and his political allies, armed not with solutions but with cameras. As residents assessed damage and uncertainty, social-media feeds became saturated with a familiar script: allegations, accusations, outrage, and declarations of governmental failure. Every few minutes came another live broadcast, another claim of neglect, another attempt to transform a weather event into a political theatre production.
The strategy is hardly unique. Around the world, there exists a form of politics that thrives not on governance but on grievance; not on policy but on performance. It feeds on public frustration and survives on perpetual indignation. Its currency is not results but attention.
The tragedy is that genuine hardship becomes merely a backdrop.
When floodwaters rise, the responsible politician asks: What resources are needed? Which systems have failed? How can relief be accelerated? The opportunistic politician asks a different question: how can this moment be converted into political capital?
The distinction matters. No democracy benefits when public suffering becomes a campaign prop. Citizens deserve honest scrutiny of government actions. Accountability is essential. Criticism is healthy. But there is a profound difference between constructive oversight and calculated exploitation.
The latter may generate headlines and social-media engagement, but it rarely generates solutions.
Facts remain stubborn things. The drainage response involved hundreds of pumps operating across the country. According to official reports, more than 200 pumping units were deployed nationally, supplemented by newly acquired mobile systems positioned in vulnerable areas. On the East Coast of Demerara alone, dozens of pumps were already operational, with additional units being installed to increase drainage capacity in communities experiencing severe flooding.
Reasonable citizens may debate whether the response was perfect. They may ask whether infrastructure should be stronger, whether preparedness can improve, or whether future investments are required. These are legitimate questions.
What is not legitimate is the deliberate construction of a narrative detached from observable reality.
Political leadership requires more than identifying problems. It requires demonstrating an understanding of governance itself: the complexity of public administration, the constraints of infrastructure, the unpredictability of weather systems and the responsibility of balancing criticism with truth.
Guyana deserves an opposition capable of that level of engagement.
A mature democracy requires strong government and credible opposition. It requires political actors who can challenge policies without manufacturing crises, who can disagree without descending into hysteria, and who can inspire confidence rather than merely harvest discontent.
The country’s future cannot be built on livestream outrage.
There is also a broader historical perspective worth considering. Guyanese remember periods when comparable rainfall events routinely escalated into prolonged national emergencies. Drainage systems collapsed, communities remained underwater for extended periods, and recovery stretched into weeks and months. While challenges undoubtedly remain, recent responses demonstrate a level of capacity and coordination that would have been difficult to imagine in previous decades.
This does not mean the government is beyond criticism. No government is. It means criticism should be grounded in evidence rather than ambition.
Politics, at its best, is the art of solving problems. Politics, at its worst, is the art of profiting from them.
The floodwaters that swept through parts of Guyana last Saturday will eventually recede. What remains will be a clearer picture of who arrived to help, who arrived to listen, who arrived to work and who arrived simply to be seen.
History has a habit of distinguishing between the two. And voters usually do as well.
DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Guyana National Newspapers Limited.