Dear Editor,

Have you ever walked into a house with pets and noticed a particular odor? If you’re not used to that environment it remains unpleasant. Oftentimes pet owners don’t recognise it and walk around their home like it’s normal. This experience is known as olfactory adaptation. It’s when our brain becomes less receptive to repeated odor exposure. The olfactory receptors stop sending strong signals to your brain and the recognition of the odor diminishes. On St. Martin, there’s a pervading stench we must not become immune to and it is called abuse. The murder of Claire Pryce should be a strong signal to our brain that we need to cleanse our community.

It is not fair to our women in particular that we live unaware of the horrors of abuse. If we know abuse is repulsive, evil and shameful, then there must be a condemnation to uproot it from within our culture. It thrives off our fear which leads to this mass silence. Generations continue passing down heirlooms of muzzles to keep from “bringing shame to the family” or “telling people your business”. This shields abusers from accountability and withholds justice from victims.

Being our brother’s or sister’s keeper is a value that cannot fade. It’s easy to say “that’s not my problem” until it knocks on your door or someone you know. The discomfort talking about abuse places a mask over the masses. It’s time we acknowledge it and remove the ghastly nature of this stench.

From personal experience I understand why we often choose to remain silent. Calling out abuse and wrongdoing isn’t glamorous, it's scary. Especially when it can cost you your livelihood or opportunities. However we must ask ourselves if our silence is worth the destruction of another person’s life. This is where we challenge ourselves to form values that shape how we respond in crisis or moral dilemmas. At the root of abuse is the power imbalance which paralyses victims and makes them feel helpless. The condemnation has to begin with those in positions of power or influence.

Reports published globally consistently show that men overwhelmingly are perpetrators of abuse in domestic or intimate partner cases. As a man, I’m pleading with fellow men for us to champion rooting out this pariah. Why men? Because we’ve been the dominant hand that moulded our culture and exacted control over other humans. Abuse against women, children and other men is unacceptable. We have to establish that principle.

It begins with calling it out in our proximity by establishing that no friendship, opportunity or compensation is worth your silence. Also note that asking someone who’s been/being abused what they did to deserve it is ridiculous. It is never the fault of the victim as there is no excuse for abuse. We must collectively agree that self control and respect ought to be a trait of manhood we uphold. Our voice and disapproval creates a safe space for victims to speak up or receive support as needed. Words are powerful, and how we speak creates the framework for our behaviour.

Advocacy must extend to petitioning our governing system to create policies alongside experts and organisations which are in the field working to resolve the impact of abuse on parties involved; including them into all sectors on the island. This entails strengthening our legal system which abusers seem to skirt. What we perceive as weak penalties often mean abusers receive a few years imprisonment after committing their heinous acts. A sex offender registry and other legal measures that work best for our community ought to be explored. Most importantly, deep rehabilitation is necessary. One hundred per cent reformation isn’t guaranteed, but for those who return into society, sincere efforts to educate and transform their minds and behaviours must be deployed.

The reality we face is that for those abusers who’ve faced the law, our social environment doesn’t have enough guardrails to condemn it. There is a high possibility of repeat offenders. Too many abusers walk unashamed and unafraid while a slew of victims stumble over their traumas. This is where our collective agreement comes in to forge a safe and hospitable nation. Respect and value for the lives of women, girls and boys must be deeply rooted and protected. How can we be comfortable seeing the (gruesome) end of a woman’s life; the very one that brings new life into the world? It begins by seeing women and girls as human beings. Simple right? It is their right to exist without the constant fear of being abused. Equally value them as we do ourselves; no matter who they are or what they do.

Men, we have to step up. We need to teach our children, especially our boys, to love, nurture and protect. Without it, children grow up broken, prideful, hardened, angry and destructive, which continues the cycle of abuse. We need a culture of love. That is how we retain our identity as the Friendly Island. That is how we get rid of the stench. Love is patient, love is kind, it does not envy, nor act disgracefully. Love is not boastful, it doesn’t seek its own way, it does not provoke, nor is it evil. Love does not rejoice in unrighteousness but in truth. Love bears, believes, hopes and endures. Love never fails. God is love. All those traits of love can be found in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8.

My condolences to the friends and family of Claire.

Ralph Cantave

Author and Journalist

Freelance Reporter

Recently in a historical powerful and emotional address to the United Nations, Joseline Thielman, a founding member of Muhernan Fuerte (Strong Women Chapter of Pueblo Progresivo Uni) and a veteran police officer with over 30 years of service on the island of Bonaire, delivered a groundbreaking speech exposing the harsh realities facing children of African descent under Dutch colonial rule.

Speaking on behalf of the Bonaire Human Rights Organization, Thielman addressed the United Nations in New York, not only as a law enforcement professional but as a mother. Her plea focused on the psychological and cultural damage inflicted upon Bonairean youth through systemic discrimination in the education system and wider society.

“Despite my years of experience and unwavering commitment, I stand here today feeling profoundly powerless,” Thielman told the international assembly. “I can no longer stand idly by as Bonairean children, including my own daughter, are subjected to systematic discrimination, harassment, and psychological harm.”

Thielman detailed how children of African descent in Bonaire are being stripped of their cultural identity, denied the right to speak their native language, and wrongly labeled as intellectually inferior due to a lack of fluency in Dutch – a legacy of the colonial education model imposed after the dissolution of the Netherlands Antilles.

“This is not a matter of individual shortcomings,” she stressed. “It is the consequence of an entrenched discriminatory educational and societal structure.”

The result, she warned, is a mental health crisis among vulnerable youth, marked by increased incidents of trauma, self-harm, suicidal ideation, and involvement in criminal activity – all rooted in the frustrations of systemic marginalization.

In her speech, Thielman also revealed the personal risks faced by those who speak out, noting that she herself has experienced intimidation and silencing in her efforts to advocate for her child and others rights.

Her message was clear and urgent: “The children of Bonaire, particularly those of African descent, are in dire need of your intervention. We urgently require your assistance in addressing this profound human rights crisis.”

This historic address marks a watershed moment in the international recognition of human rights violations occurring in Bonaire, and adds pressure on the Dutch government to address the systemic injustices and colonial remnants impacting its Caribbean territories.

Bonaire Human Rights Organization

Kralendijk, Bonaire

Fifteen years ago, on May 22, 2010, a man named Laszlo Hanyecz unknowingly made history—not in a boardroom or laboratory, but from the comfort of his home, with a keyboard and a craving for pizza. Hanyecz, a programmer and early Bitcoin enthusiast, paid a fellow forum user 10,000 bitcoins for two Papa John’s pizzas. The transaction was the first known instance of Bitcoin being used to purchase a physical good. At the time, 10,000 BTC was roughly $41—approximately the cost of a standard pizza night. But yesterday [Wednesday, May 21 – Ed.], Bitcoin surged to an all-time high of $105,000 per coin, making those two pizzas worth over $1 billion. This surge in value, from $ 41 to $ 1 billion, illustrates the exponential growth of Bitcoin's value over the years. You read that right: one billion U.S. dollars—easily the most expensive pizzas ever baked, and arguably the most famous.

From geek curiosity to global currency

Bitcoin was barely a year old in 2010. It was an experimental digital currency known mostly to cryptographers, libertarians, and software hobbyists. Created by the still-mysterious Satoshi Nakamoto, Bitcoin promised a decentralized, peer-to-peer financial system. But it had no real-world value until someone was willing to trade it for something tangible.

It was Hanyecz, a visionary who saw his purchase not as a loss, but as a contribution to something bigger. “It wasn't like Bitcoins had any value back then,” he said in interviews. “The idea of trading them for a pizza was incredibly cool.” His perspective and willingness to take a risk for something he believed in, set the stage for a revolution.

It was more than cool—it was revolutionary. The transaction7 gave Bitcoin its first price tag and sparked a movement that would change finance, technology, and even geopolitics.

A slice of history

May 22 is known worldwide as Bitcoin Pizza Day, celebrated by crypto enthusiasts who gather online and offline to honour Hanyecz’s now-legendary purchase. Memes, commemorative Non-Fungible Tokens (NFTs), and themed pizza parties abound. NFTs are unique digital assets representing ownership of a specific item or content, often used in the crypto and digital art communities.

Yet this is more than a quirky footnote in financial history. It’s a parable of vision, risk, and the astonishing power of technology to reshape our world.

Lessons from a $1 billion pizza

There’s irony in the fact that Hanyecz’s modest meal would eventually be worth more than the GDP of some small nations. But there’s also inspiration. His transaction reminds us that innovation often starts with small, even laughable, acts. That radical ideas may be dismissed until, one day, they aren't. And that every new economy—whether built on blockchain, AI, or something yet to emerge—begins with a first step. Laszlo Hanyecz didn’t just order dinner. He served the world a vision of what money could become. And if that isn’t worth a pizza, what is?

Professor C. Justin Robinson

Pro-Vice Chancellor and Principal, UWI Five Islands Campus

Dear Editor,

Many years ago when the Sheriff Security company started its operation on St. Maarten, I, being aware that a sheriff is a recognized law enforcement officer, at that time brought this to the attention of the authorities and those concerned in order to avoid visitors to the island from being confused – or even being neglected. There was not even a reaction and it went so far as to accept another security company, this one with the name First Responders – another slap in the face of the police and other first responders.

Over the years I have mentioned this to several government officials but nothing changed. So why am I writing about this now? Simply because the observation was made about the different kinds of uniforms worn on such a small island, and “Maybe I can come down here and apply for a job as a firefighter.”

Russell Simmons