The Tribune

ON Friday, November 25, history was made in The Bahamas.

As many as 1,000 people from all walks of life took to the streets in a peaceful march to express their frustration with how they are being governed.

They asked for transparency, accountability, freedom of information legislation. They asked for an end to closed door deals. They asked to be consulted on matters impacting their own communities. There were even those who asked for better education for their children or more food on their table.

The Black Friday March was like a blender into which was dumped all the frustrations of a population that feels disconnected from its government and disenfranchised in its own country. The march, which The Tribune supported as a means of democratic expression, was, by all measures, highly successful. There were some surprises. Why did five Progressive Liberal Party MPs show up? What was their intention? Why did Fred Mitchell, a veteran PLP politician, risk sounding like a dictator ordering PLPs not to go near the march? What would they be risking, one has to ask? Would they be excommunicated from a party desperately trying to hold on to its believers?

More importantly, the question that should be on everyone’s mind who cares about how they are governed is “After the march, what next?”

The government admits the march was a wake-up call. They now know people are no longer willing to settle for whatever is pushed down their throats. They are willing to take a stand. They are willing to get up out of their armchairs where apathy and gravity want to tug at them and pull them down. They are ready to hoist their placards and their hopes high into the air. They no longer care if the TV camera captures them. The people, at long last, have had enough and, for the first time since Bahamian Independence, are not afraid of victimisation because they have comfort in numbers.

And again we ask, after the march, what next? Will the march lead to change?

We fear that while some members of the current administration will want to do things differently, bring more transparency and accountability, others – particularly the older, more established members – will resist that change. They have benefitted from the lack of transparency and from making decisions at the Cabinet level without the annoying rounds of true public consultation.

We ask: “Was there a lesson learned?”

Three days after the march, a court case was being heard in Grand Bahama where residents of the small community of Little Harbour, Abaco, were trying to protect their way of life in the face of a developer with property on a nearby island wanting to dredge, build a marina, retail outlets and other enterprises on the little island whose residents have carved out the life they want for themselves and are vehemently opposed to big development. Those residents are not poor. They are not begging for anything except to retain the culture of their community. They are not asking for anything except not to transformed into another big marina stopover for strangers.

They have an honour system at the little restaurant on the beach; cook a burger, sign a chit and pay later. They have an historic foundry where brass artworks are created that have put The Bahamas on many a map. Sea turtles swim unfettered in the harbour. Sailboats bob and tail into the wind with dinghies going between them as friends join one another for sundowners. Little Harbour, in many ways, is a microcosm of the life of boaters in The Bahamas and has been since its founder, Randolph Johnstone, first brought his family to the perfect isle he found and they settled into a cave when weather made life aboard their boat too difficult.

So the Black Friday March came and went, a success of organisation and expression. And in Grand Bahama a community is before a judge fighting for the right to be what it is instead of having a government decision about development imposed upon it.

The Black Friday March can matter, but only if the organisers and those who supported it do not spend time patting themselves on the back for the job they have done but instead begin planning for the job that lies ahead. Now that they have found their voice, it is time to end the silence of submission. It is important to continue to do so in a peaceful manner and as free of politics as possible to maintain credibility.

In reality, the opportunity for real change will occur when voters walk into election halls. For now, the chorus must find ways to stay connected and move forward guiding the path to progress for all Bahamians.