The Tribune

By IVOINE INGRAHAM

THERE is a dangerous disease spreading through Bahamian society, and it’s not one that can be cured with medicine. It’s the growing belief that laws are optional, accountability is negotiable, and influence matters more than justice.

Too many people now behave as though the law applies only to those without connections. There’s a widespread perception that if someone is well connected, knows the right person, or can make the right telephone call, consequences disappear. Whether every story is true is almost beside the point. The public believes it happens often enough to undermine confidence in the very institutions meant to protect us.

Nothing erodes respect for the law faster than the belief that justice is for sale or available only to those with influence. That perception has become one of the greatest threats to our democracy.

The result is a culture where people increasingly believe they can do as they please because someone will "fix it." That mindset spreads like a virus. One person escapes accountability, another observes it, and soon an entire generation begins to believe that rules are merely suggestions.

Lawlessness is holding us hostage.

Perhaps the saddest part is that we behave like the proverbial ostrich, pretending the problem is not there. We discuss crime only after someone has been killed. We condemn recklessness after tragedy strikes. We express outrage for a few days before returning to business as usual. Meanwhile, the small acts of lawlessness continue every hour of every day. They accumulate, normalize disorder, and weaken our society.

The police occupy one of the most difficult jobs in the country. Thousands of officers perform their duties with professionalism, courage, and integrity. They deserve recognition for protecting communities under increasingly difficult circumstances.

Yet it would be dishonest to ignore the concerns many Bahamians express. Public confidence in policing has weakened.

Many citizens complain that visible enforcement has declined, especially during the evening and overnight hours when criminal activity often increases. Whether due to staffing shortages, limited resources, or operational challenges, the public notices when there are fewer officers on the streets.

More troubling is the perception that some officers overlook obvious violations while aggressively pursuing minor infractions. Fair or unfair, that perception shapes public trust. Respect for the police cannot be demanded solely because of the uniform. It must also be earned through consistency, professionalism, impartiality, and visible enforcement.

At the same time, respect for law enforcement should never depend on whether an individual personally admires every officer. The rule of law exists precisely because societies cannot function if every citizen decides which laws deserve obedience.

Even if someone believes the police have fallen short, that does not excuse breaking the law. Obeying the law is a civic responsibility. That principle should never change.

One of the clearest examples of normalized lawlessness is evident on our roads. Every Bahamian has witnessed it. Jitney drivers weave through traffic as though traffic laws do not exist. Creating lanes where none exist. Using turning lanes to bypass long lines of traffic before forcing their way back into the correct lane. Stopping wherever they choose. Blocking intersections.

Driving aggressively despite carrying dozens of passengers whose lives depend entirely on their judgment. These behaviours are not isolated incidents. They have become routine.

Perhaps even more discouraging is seeing such conduct occur in full view of law enforcement with little visible intervention. That inevitably raises the question ordinary citizens ask: if these infractions occur openly without consequence, what message does that send?

The answer is obvious. Rules become optional.

The same concerns extend beyond public buses. Taxi drivers provide many visitors with their first personal impression of The Bahamas. The overwhelming majority work hard and represent our country with pride. Yet when some conduct themselves aggressively, intimidate visitors, ignore traffic laws, or behave discourteously without meaningful consequences, the damage extends far beyond a single encounter.

Tourism depends upon reputation. One unpleasant experience travels across social media far faster than a thousand positive ones. Protecting the reputation of our tourism product should be considered a national responsibility. Professional standards should be enforced consistently, and where serious misconduct occurs, meaningful disciplinary measures—including suspension or revocation of licences, where appropriate—should be available and applied transparently.

Then there is the ongoing issue of unregulated or unsafe jet-ski operations. Year after year, concerns are raised following serious incidents. Yet many Bahamians continue to observe practices that appear inherently dangerous. Multiple jet skis are being towed behind trucks. Equipment with inadequate lighting. Operations that place visitors and residents at unnecessary risk.

We shouldn’t wait for another fatal accident before asking whether existing regulations are sufficient or properly enforced. Prevention has always been less costly than tragedy.

Simple measures—reasonable limits on the number of jet skis that may be towed, proper lighting requirements for trailers, routine inspections, and meaningful penalties for repeated violations—could significantly improve public safety.

These are not radical ideas. They are common-sense safeguards.

The disregard for public order extends into our neighbourhoods.

Cars parked across sidewalks meant for pedestrians. Vehicles blocking driveways. Double parking. Parking on hills where visibility is already compromised. Ignoring pedestrian crossings. These are violations everyone sees. Children, elderly residents, and people living with disabilities are often forced into traffic because sidewalks have become parking spaces.

What message does that send?

It tells the public that convenience matters more than consideration.

It tells citizens that laws exist on paper but not necessarily in practice.

Lawlessness is rarely dramatic in its beginnings. It grows quietly through thousands of small acts that society gradually accepts. Eventually, disorder becomes normal.

We should also confront another uncomfortable reality: Young people increasingly appear less intimidated by the criminal justice system than previous generations. Some openly boast that they can "do time" and return to the streets with little concern for the consequences.

Whether this reflects conditions within correctional institutions, broader social failures, limited opportunities, broken families, or declining respect for authority, the result is deeply troubling.

If imprisonment no longer serves as a meaningful deterrent for many offenders, then policymakers must ask difficult questions about rehabilitation, sentencing, education, employment opportunities, and community support. Punishment alone cannot solve every social problem. Neither can permissiveness. The goal should always be accountability accompanied by rehabilitation wherever possible.

Alcohol presents another challenge we too often minimise. It’s woven into countless social events. Holding a drink has become synonymous with celebration. Yet alcohol abuse continues to devastate families through impaired driving, domestic violence, poor health, workplace accidents, and countless preventable tragedies.

No amount of advertising or clever public relations changes that reality. The social cost is enormous.

Questions must continue to be asked about enforcement against underage drinking, sales to minors, impaired driving, and irresponsible alcohol consumption. The law should intervene before lives are lost—not only afterwards.

We have become reactive instead of proactive. We mobilise after funerals. We introduce reforms after headlines. We hold press conferences after outrage.

Why must tragedy always be the catalyst for action?

One of the most corrosive perceptions in Bahamian society is that justice depends upon who you are rather than what you have done. Many ordinary citizens believe that those without money, influence, or famous surnames experience the full force of the law, while those possessing social or political connections often receive more favourable treatment.

Whether individual cases justify those beliefs or not, the perception itself is profoundly damaging.

Justice must not merely be done. It must be seen to be done.

Confidence in policing, the courts, and public institutions depends upon visible fairness. The law should neither favour the wealthy nor unfairly burden the poor. It should treat every citizen equally. No exceptions, special telephone calls, influential interventions, preferential treatment. Only equal justice.

What, then, can be done?

First, laws must be enforced consistently regardless of status, occupation, surname, political affiliation, or financial standing.

Second, police visibility must increase in communities, particularly in the evenings and on weekends, when enforcement is most needed.

Third, disciplinary systems within law enforcement must inspire public confidence by dealing transparently with misconduct while protecting officers who perform their duties honourably.

Fourth, licensing authorities should consistently enforce professional standards across public transportation, commercial tourism operations, and other regulated industries.

Fifth, schools, churches, families, civic organisations, and community leaders must recommit themselves to teaching personal responsibility, discipline, honesty, and respect for lawful authority.

No police force can substitute for strong homes. No legislation can replace good parenting. No government programme can manufacture personal integrity.

Ultimately, the responsibility belongs to all of us.

It’s easy to criticise the government. It’s easy to criticise the police. It’s easy to criticise politicians.

But a civil society requires citizens who are willing to obey the law even when no one is watching. Respect begins with ourselves.

It begins by refusing to park illegally. Refusing to drink and drive. Refusing to use influence to escape accountability. Refusing to excuse wrongdoing simply because the offender is a friend, relative, political ally, or prominent citizen.

The Bahamas deserves better than selective justice.

Our children deserve to grow up believing that honesty matters, that rules matter, and that character matters more than connections.

No nation survives when citizens lose confidence that fairness exists. No democracy flourishes when people conclude that influence outranks integrity. No community prospers when lawlessness becomes ordinary. If we truly love this country, then we must reject the dangerous idea that anyone is above the law.

We should expect more from those entrusted to enforce it. We should demand more from those elected to uphold it. And we should require more from ourselves.

Perhaps the most important question is not whether the police, politicians, or judges will change. The real question is whether we, as Bahamians, are prepared to change.

As many of us enter the afternoon of our lives, we should ask ourselves a simple but profound question: What kind of country do we wish to leave behind?

The answer will not be found in speeches or slogans. It will be found in whether we choose principle over privilege, discipline over disorder, and equal justice over selective enforcement.

Only then will the law no longer hold us hostage.

Only then will freedom truly belong to everyone.