The Tribune

ON SUNDAY, as hundreds shouted and cheered the sailing at the Best of the Best Regatta at Montagu Park and as others revelled in the elite world of Albany with golf greats like Jordan Spieth, Bubba Watson and Tiger Woods vying for a $3.5 million purse, the Bahamas must have seemed from the outside to be idyllic. To the unknowing eye, we were an island nation bathed in sun and glory. Large screens by the beach. TV cameras rolling for golf aficionados around the globe. What could possibly be wrong?

Plenty.

In the heart of Nassau, far from the winds and waves on the beach or the manicured greens and fairways of the golf course, a man was fighting for his life. He was hooked to oxygen and to painkilling drugs being administered intravenously. When the power went off, his life was nearly snuffed out, just like the blackout that knocked out TVs and refrigerators and computers and lights. But this was not a light or a refrigerator. This was a life. A life hanging in the balance where home care was the final stage but there were still precious moments ahead. And this was not just any man. This was a young 40-something man who had spent the last years helping hundreds of others.

Yet the company charged with - and being handsomely paid to - provide a reliable supply of electricity was robbing him of time. With the help of friends, he was moved to the home of a caring person who had a generator. This was the second time in a week that he and his wife were forced to leave their home and settle in someone else’s residence so they could keep his oxygen flowing.

It is one thing to talk about how annoying the power cuts are. Or to complain that we deserve better. And we do.

It is another matter altogether when you consider that a life is hanging in the balance, a life already being cut short is being threatened every day by the lack of reliable power.

How, we have to ask, did we arrive at this point, where power outages that would make national news in other countries are routine?

How did we reach a point where power can go out for five, six, seven hours or more when there is not a drop of rain, or clap of thunder, or bolt of lightning to disturb generation and distribution?

How did we wind up in this place where it has become routine and infuriating and frustrating for tens of thousands who experience power outages that last for the better part of a day or, like Sunday, from afternoon until 10pm?

In eastern New Providence that evening, only the fireworks display provided light. An ironic, almost cruel, contrast of celebration as so many suffered in darkness.

How did we get here, we ask again?

In May, 2015, the government announced that following an intense 20-month bidding process it had reached a decision to award a management contract to North Carolina-based company PowerSecure. It was, the government said, a company that specialised in management, and its familiarity with solar micro-grids would serve the Family Islands of the Bahamas well. Praise for the new saviour of reliable power at reasonable costs flew fast and furious. A new day lay ahead. Better power. Lower prices. Greater consistency and reliability.

PowerSecure would “bring a lot of value to the table”, we were told. There would be “a substantial reduction in the cost of electricity”, we were promised. A business plan would be forthcoming and we would see the light. The electricity legislation would be passed allowing us to enjoy solar power and tie in to the grid, even if we could not sell back to it. Meantime, the Bahamas Electricity Corporation (BEC) had signed an $8 million contract to rent temporary generation of power during peak periods; $8 million not to own anything, but to rent 40 megawatts of power for a 30-week period. Costs did go down and we had power. That was before the new management that came with so much hype and hope took over.

Nearly 18 months after the announcement that the state-owned monopoly so critical to business, health, education and life itself would finally be managed professionally by a private company, all hope for better to come has been extinguished.

In addition to being in the dark about a business plan that we have yet to see, we still do not know how much Bahamas Power and Light (BPL) management is being paid. There are reports that the contract could be worth as much as $25 million.

In all fairness, it has also been reported that PowerSecure was burdened with old equipment, making it hard to locate parts and expensive to purchase. That same old and inefficient equipment is hard to keep operational. We have heard reports that PowerSecure inherited a system so antiquated it should have known better. But it has also been noted that the very experts like Kevin Basden, former general manager of BEC, who spent their lives keeping that antiquated equipment humming, were told they were no longer needed.

The result is that no one is happy.

The management company cannot possibly be enjoying the anger and screaming. The Bahamian student who wrote and told us she is trying to prepare for BGCSEs and having to study by flashlight is not happy. The homeowner who is losing appliances is not happy. The business that is still paying a high price but losing productivity for hours of not being able to operate machinery is not happy. That dying man must wonder how this final insult could be occurring.

The Bahamian people who have been kept in the dark and live too many hours without light are not happy.

The time has come to pull the plug on the contract, bring back the experts who know the current system while we find a professional, experienced company with deep pockets willing to invest heavily and form a public-private partnership to own the power company.

There is no other solution and only then can we explore and engage as many renewable sources of energy as possible. There is a time for patience and a time to act. This is a time to act. If performance is to be rewarded, non-performance can be dealt with just as strongly. All it takes is courage.