Jamaica Needs Roads Fixed, Not Just Another Authority

The announcement that the Government intends to establish a One Road Authority (ORA) within the next 24 months may sound impressive on paper. The idea, according to the works minister, is to merge existing entities and create a single framework to regulate standards, quality assurance, and management of Jamaica’s road network. (Jamaica Gleaner)

But for many Jamaicans — especially those of us living in or travelling through rural communities — the real question is simple: Will this actually fix the roads?

Across rural Jamaica the condition of the roads is nothing short of alarming. In communities across St. Mary, St. Thomas, Portland, Clarendon, St. Elizabeth and parts of rural St. Andrew, roads have deteriorated into little more than tracks of potholes, loose marl, and broken asphalt. When rain falls — as it often does — these roads become nearly impassable.

Farmers struggle to transport produce to markets. Taxi operators destroy their suspensions trying to reach remote districts. Parents worry daily about the safety of children travelling to school.

This is not simply an inconvenience. It is a development crisis.

The article rightly highlights criticism that Jamaica’s road problems are not primarily about organisational confusion, but about funding and sustained maintenance. One critic argued that creating a new authority merely “shifts the same limited resources into a bigger bureaucracy.” (Jamaica Gleaner)

Many Jamaicans would agree with that assessment.

For decades, we have heard about restructuring, reform, and new agencies. Yet the roads in rural Jamaica continue to crumble. If anything, they are getting worse. What we need is not simply another administrative body but a clear, properly funded national road maintenance programme.

There are several issues that must be addressed honestly:

1. Maintenance, not just construction.
Too many roads are repaired only after they have completely collapsed. Preventive maintenance is almost non-existent.

2. A protected Road Maintenance Fund.
Motorists pay fuel taxes and other charges that should support road maintenance. Jamaicans deserve transparency about how those funds are used.

3. Rural infrastructure priority.
Urban highways often receive attention, while farm roads and community roads deteriorate for years.

4. Accountability for contractors.
Roads that should last ten or fifteen years often break apart within two or three.

The truth is that the condition of a nation’s roads reflects the condition of its governance. Roads are the arteries of economic activity. Tourism depends on them. Agriculture depends on them. Rural life depends on them.

Creating a One Road Authority may improve coordination and standards. But unless it is backed by real funding, strict accountability, and a genuine commitment to rural communities, Jamaicans will simply see the same broken roads managed by a different office.

The people of Jamaica are not asking for miracles.

We are simply asking for roads that can carry a farmer’s truck, a school bus, or a taxi without fear that the next pothole will break the vehicle — or worse, cause an accident.

Until that becomes a reality, announcements of new authorities will sound less like solutions and more like another chapter in a very long story of neglected roads.

Dem Run Tings Ah Jamrock!

My fellow Jamaicans,

I stand before you not as a member of the elite, nor as a politician with an entourage, but as a working-class Jamaican. I received a secondary school education. I have worked for more than thirty years — on factory floors, behind office desks, and in supervisory and managerial roles. I pursued professional training and tertiary-level courses while raising a family and meeting my responsibilities. I know what it is to rise before dawn and return home after dark.

It is from that lived experience that I speak tonight about the influence of the so-called power-brokers, king-makers, and “topanaris” in Jamaican politics and business.

We all recognise these figures. We may not always name them openly, but their influence is felt. They are often unelected, sometimes unseen, yet frequently decisive.

Historical Foundations: From Plantation Hierarchy to Political Machinery

To understand their influence today, we must examine our past.

Jamaica’s political and economic structures were shaped by a plantation system in which a small minority controlled land, capital, and authority. Even after Emancipation, political power remained concentrated among property-owning elites. It was not until the introduction of universal adult suffrage in 1944 that the majority of Jamaicans gained formal political power.

Leaders such as Norman Manley and Alexander Bustamante mobilised workers and established trade unions as powerful political forces. For the first time, the working class became central to national decision-making.

However, influence did not disappear; it merely evolved.

During the 1970s, under the leadership of Michael Manley, politics became intensely ideological and polarised. Communities aligned themselves sharply along party lines. The phenomenon of garrison politics emerged, and access to housing, employment, contracts, and even personal security could depend upon political affiliation.

In this period, the modern Jamaican “king-maker” became more visible — individuals who did not necessarily hold elected office but wielded significant influence over who did.

The Convergence of Politics and Business

In the 1980s and 1990s, particularly during the administration of Edward Seaga, economic liberalisation strengthened the connection between politics and private enterprise.

Political campaigns require substantial funding — for media exposure, organisational support, and constituency mobilisation. Inevitably, those who finance campaigns acquire influence.

Major contractors, developers, importers, and corporate sponsors became increasingly intertwined with political processes. Some contributed out of genuine ideological commitment. Others did so to secure access, protect investments, or shape policy outcomes.

Over time, a networked ecosystem developed:

• The financier who can determine whether a campaign thrives or falters.

• The senior party insider who influences candidate selection.

• The corporate actor who shapes policy through proximity.

• The “topanaris” who holds no formal office yet commands significant influence behind closed doors.

For many ordinary Jamaicans, the effects are visible even if the mechanisms are not.

Consequences for the Working Class

When public contracts consistently circulate within a narrow circle,
when board appointments appear to favour familiar names,
when internal party democracy seems predetermined,
and when capable individuals are overlooked for those with connections,

a troubling perception emerges: merit alone is insufficient; access is decisive.

Such a perception is corrosive. It weakens faith in institutions and discourages aspiration. If young Jamaicans conclude that advancement depends more on association than ability, innovation and productivity inevitably suffer.

To be fair, influence is not synonymous with corruption. Not every donor manipulates policy; not every influential figure acts improperly. Networks of influence exist in all democracies.

The fundamental issue is transparency and accountability.

A Culture of Quiet Influence

In Jamaica, influence often operates subtly. Agreements may not always be written, yet understandings are clear. There are individuals whose approval must be sought, whose endorsement carries weight, and whose disapproval can obstruct progress.

Sometimes such influence is exercised discreetly. At other times, it is unmistakable. It persists because it is effective — and because it is tolerated.

The Responsibility of the Citizen

Having worked for over three decades, I remain convinced that diligence, education, and professional development are essential. Yet civic engagement is equally vital.

We must:

• Demand transparency within political parties.

• Support meaningful campaign finance reform.

• Strengthen institutions rather than elevate personalities.

• Reward integrity at the ballot box.

• Protect whistle-blowers.

• Encourage independent and investigative media.

Influence flourishes in opacity; it diminishes under scrutiny.

The Way Forward

Jamaica is not unique. Every society contains networks of influence. The question is not whether power exists — it invariably does. The question is who ultimately controls it.

Is it confined to a small circle operating beyond public oversight?
Or is it subject to the will of the Jamaican people through strong, independent institutions?

We have progressed far from plantation oligarchy. We have endured ideological conflict. We have stabilised our economy and built respected enterprises and public institutions.

Yet political maturity is not a destination; it is an ongoing discipline.

As a working Jamaican, I do not seek favour. I seek fairness. I do not seek connections. I seek opportunity. I do not seek king-makers. I seek accountable leadership.

If we collectively insist upon transparency, merit, and institutional integrity, then no power-broker — however influential — will be stronger than the will of the people.

Thank you, and may God bless Jamaica.

Jamaica 2026 to 2050 – Identity, Destiny, and Global Respect

Fellow Jamaicans,

As we stand in 2026, nearly a century after the birth of our national heroes like Marcus Garvey and Norman Manley, and more than six decades after Independence, we must ask ourselves three profound questions:

What does it mean to be Jamaican today?
What will Jamaica look like in 2050?
And how will the world — and especially the Caribbean — view us?

To be Jamaican in 2026 is to carry a paradox: we are small in size, yet immense in impact.

We are the land of Bob Marley, whose voice became the anthem of freedom across continents.
We are the birthplace of Usain Bolt, who redefined human speed.
We are the cultural pulse of reggae and dancehall — genres that shape global music and language.

But being Jamaican in 2026 is more than global fame.

It means resilience — surviving hurricanes, economic shocks, global pandemics, and still finding a way to laugh, to sing, to build.
It means creativity — turning struggle into art, scarcity into innovation.
It means pride — in our food, our language, our intellect and our potential.

In 2026, to be Jamaican is to understand that our identity is not confined to geography. From Kingston to London, Toronto to New York, Jamaicans shape industries, politics, academia and culture. Our diaspora is not an extension of Jamaica — it is Jamaica abroad.

But 2026 also demands maturity.
It demands that we move from celebrating talent to building systems.
From exporting culture to exporting capital.
From potential to performance.

If we are bold, Jamaica in 2050 will not merely be surviving — it will be leading.

By 2050, Jamaica can become:

• A regional financial hub, bridging North America and Latin America.

• A renewable energy leader, powered by sun, wind and innovation.

• A technology and creative industry powerhouse, where Jamaican software, film, music and digital enterprises dominate Caribbean markets.

• A country with modern infrastructure, smart cities and globally competitive education systems.

Imagine a Jamaica where:

• Crime is no longer a defining headline.

• Our ports rival the best logistics centres in the hemisphere.

• Our universities produce engineers, AI specialists, climate scientists and entrepreneurs at scale.

• Our pension funds and investment vehicles finance Caribbean development projects.

But this future will not happen by accident.

2050 Jamaica will be shaped by the discipline we show today — in governance, fiscal management, education reform and national unity.

If we choose courage over complacency, by 2050 Jamaica will be known not just for sprinting fast — but for thinking long-term.

Today, the world sees Jamaica as cultural royalty.

But by 2050, the world can see us as economic authority.

The Caribbean in particular will look to Jamaica as:

• A stabilizing force.

• A driver of regional integration.

• A financial and innovation anchor for CARICOM.

• A country that proves small states can achieve large ambitions.

Our neighbours will not just admire our music — they will partner with our institutions.

They will not just celebrate our athletes — they will invest in our markets.
They will not just vacation on our shores — they will seek our expertise.

Globally, Jamaica can become a model for:

• Climate resilience among small island states.

• Cultural influence converted into economic leverage.

• Diaspora-driven investment ecosystems.

The world already respects our voice.
By 2050, it must respect our balance sheet.

The Responsibility of This Generation

My fellow Jamaicans,

History does not remember nations for their excuses — it remembers them for their execution.

We inherited courage from our ancestors.
We inherited creativity from our artists.
We inherited excellence from our athletes.

Now we must build institutions worthy of that inheritance.

Being Jamaican in 2026 means recognizing that we are not just heirs to greatness — we are architects of 2050.

If we commit to integrity in public life, productivity in private enterprise, and unity across political lines, Jamaica will not simply be viewed as “punching above its weight.”

It will be recognized as a nation that understood its power — and used it.

Let us build a Jamaica that our grandchildren will not have to defend — only celebrate.

Thank you. 

What Jamaica Can Learn from Singapore’s Anti-Corruption Framework

Public discussion on corruption in Jamaica often focuses on personalities and scandals, but far less attention is paid to whether our legislative and institutional framework is truly fit for purpose. A comparison between Jamaica’s anti-corruption laws and Singapore’s Prevention of Corruption Act (PCA) of 1960 is instructive — and sobering.

Singapore’s PCA is a single, tightly drafted statute with a clear philosophy: zero tolerance, swift investigation, and severe consequences. It applies broadly across the public and private sectors, creates strong presumptions where public officials receive unexplained benefits, and vests extensive investigative powers in one independent body — the Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau (CPIB). The result is not merely symbolic enforcement, but consistent deterrence.

Jamaica’s framework, by contrast, is fragmented. The Corruption Prevention Act, 2002 establishes important criminal offences, including the progressive concept of illicit enrichment, but it is narrow in scope and largely reactive. The Integrity Commission Act, 2017 significantly strengthened institutional oversight by creating a modern anti-corruption body with investigative, prosecutorial, monitoring, and educational functions. However, the separation between offences, procedures, and enforcement powers has resulted in complexity, delay and public confusion about accountability.

Unlike Singapore, Jamaica does not benefit from strong statutory presumptions that shift the evidentiary burden where unexplained wealth or benefits arise. Nor does any single agency enjoy the operational clarity and authority of the CPIB. The Integrity Commission has broad responsibilities, but those responsibilities are diffused across compliance monitoring, public education, procurement oversight, and prosecution — all within a legal framework that remains cautious and procedurally heavy.

The lesson from Singapore is not that Jamaica should abandon due process or transplant foreign laws wholesale. It is that anti-corruption legislation works best when it is clear, forceful and unapologetically deterrent. Strong laws change behaviour long before prosecutions are required.

As Jamaica continues to debate governance reform, it may be time to ask uncomfortable questions: Should our corruption laws be consolidated? Should evidentiary presumptions be strengthened for public officials? Should investigative agencies be given clearer, faster powers backed by Parliament’s full confidence?

Corruption thrives not only on bad actors, but on weak systems. If Jamaica is serious about restoring public trust, legislative courage — not just institutional rhetoric — will be required.