Dear Editor,

Every year, millions move through the books of St. Maarten’s government-owned companies. And every year, the financial audits come back clean. But what if those clean reports are just well-dressed illusions?

Let’s talk about TelEm. On paper, everything looked fine. Year after year, auditors said the financials were solid. But behind the numbers? Bonuses quietly doubled and millions were spent on failed side projects. Thankfully, it was the staff who raised the red flags. By 2020, the St. Maarten Communication Union (SMCU) demanded a forensic audit, claiming financial mismanagement dating back five years. Some of the most questionable decisions never showed up in the audit reports. Not because the auditors failed, but because financial audits aren’t built to ask why money was spent – only where it went.

Sadly, this wasn’t an isolated case. Look at GEBE. Before the 2022 ransomware attack, GEBE also had clean audits. No red flags. Then everything collapsed. The billing system went dark and revenue dropped by 60%. Investigators said the company wasn’t cooperating. And we later learned GEBE had been dipping into its cash reserves for years. The signs were there, just buried under spreadsheets and silence.

The Port of St. Maarten was no different. For years, its finances looked pristine until investigators uncovered a fake invoice scheme that drained over $8 million from public coffers. The CEO was convicted, then acquitted on appeal. But the fraud? That was real. And once again, it slipped past the auditors. They followed the rules, but missed the reality. No one looked deeper and that’s the problem.

Many of St. Maarten’s government-owned companies are audited by respected firms like BDO and Grant Thornton. They follow international standards and do their job as required. But the real question is: who’s auditing the auditors? There’s no independent oversight body on the island. No audit inspection board. No system that reviews whether financial audit files missed key warning signs. In places like Jamaica, there are agencies that audit the auditors, public institutions with the power to inspect, question, and correct.

In St. Maarten, we rely on trust and not much else. Some government-owned companies have internal auditors, supervisory boards, or a combination of the two, but those are just internal checks. And without external, independent accountability, even these layers can be sidestepped. Without real oversight, a clean financial audit becomes a stamp, not a safeguard.

This is where the General Audit Chamber has a critical role to play. It’s meant to be our financial watchdog. It has the legal power to audit ministries and, under certain conditions, government-owned companies, especially if they receive public funds or perform a public task. But in practice, its reach is limited. It often needs permission, political will, or public pressure to intervene. By then, the financial damage is usually already done.

We need to give the General Audit Chamber real teeth, not just to audit after the fact, but to dig deeper than any outside firm ever could. Because while financial audits check the numbers, the General Audit Chamber can challenge the choices behind them.

This kind of proactive oversight already exists elsewhere. When Jamaica’s oil refinery, Petrojam, looked too clean to question, their Auditor General didn’t wait for disaster. She stepped in, conducted a deep dive, and exposed nepotism, financial abuse, and procurement violations that no audit had flagged. Because in Jamaica, audits are just the start of accountability, not the end.

We need that mindset here.

If St. Maarten is serious about stopping the next crisis before it starts, we need more than routine financial audits. We need someone watching the whole system. Whether that’s an Audit Oversight Authority or a stronger General Audit Chamber, the goal is the same: independent eyes with the power to act. Because when no one’s steering up front, it’s only a matter of time before the back crashes.

Clean financial audits tell us that the numbers add up. But they can’t tell us what it cost to make them look that way.

Angelique Remy-Chittick

Dear Editor,

Will statistics show that of late there are more serious to fatal traffic accidents where motorcycles are involved? Will statistics and social media show that there are more reckless street fights between women than between men? Will statics show that increasingly there are quarrels, deals gone wrong, etc., in which the use of firearms is involved? I believe that statistics will bear out the above.

I also believe that people are not numb. I believe that people are waiting for a reason to feel. I believe that people are waiting for someone to remind them that kindness still exists and that kindness can change things.

What I know is that the majority of the people all over appreciate law and order I would love for it to be proven too that the paper is bought to read the good news.

Can we promote humility? Let’s try.

Russell A. Simmons

By Alex Rosaria

The screening of ministerial candidates confronts us with a simple yet profound question: “What kind of country do we want to be? And consequently: what kind of leaders do we want to have?”

Do we truly want people in power who have been involved in money-laundering, corruption, sexual offenses, and document fraud? And that’s not even touching on the competence of these candidates.

Still, political parties continue to nominate individuals who are clearly unfit for office – something we’ve seen happen far too often over the past 15 years.

It’s easy to point out that our screening law is stricter than the one in the Netherlands. Maybe it is. But honestly, what does that matter? The real question is whether this law is good for Curaçao.

And that’s a question we rarely hear addressed. Instead, many remain fixated on The Hague. Or more recently, they admire how President Bukele in San Salvador or President Traoré in Ouagadougou would handle things.

But let’s talk about what really matters: How high should we set the bar for integrity in ministerial candidates, if we want to become the kind of country we claim to aspire to be? Is integrity just about following laws and regulations, or is it also about norms, values, ethics, and decency?

And should screening be limited to the start of an appointment, or also be done periodically – and especially at the end – as I previously proposed as a Member of Parliament?

We can also choose to lower the bar so much that anyone can just walk into Fort Amsterdam and hold office. And clearly, the screening law shouldn’t only be considered “fair” when it applies to others – but “unjust” when it applies to us. We saw this contradiction during the uproar in the Rhuggenaath administration, when the Minister of Economic Affairs was forced to resign.

What kind of country do we want to be? Ibrahim Traoré, the military leader who seized power in Ouagadougou promising democracy – but now clings to his throne – cannot answer that question for us.

~ Alex David Rosaria (53) is a freelance consultant active in Asia and the Pacific. He is a former Member of Parliament, Minister of Economic Affairs, State Secretary of Finance and UN Implementation Officer in Africa and Central America. He is from Curaçao and has an MBA from University of Iowa (USA). ~

Dear Prime Minister Mercelina,

We have read your recent and passionate condemnation of the deeply offensive and racist remarks made by Dutch MP Thierry Baudet. We commend your courage in speaking out so clearly against colonial rhetoric, demographic engineering, and the degrading idea that the Caribbean is still up for “repopulation” or exploitation.

What you now condemn as a “colonial fantasy” for St. Maarten has been the lived, painful reality for Bonaire since 2010. Baudet’s statements are not a new threat – they are simply a blunt expression of a policy direction that has already been silently executed in Bonaire, with devastating consequences.

Since the dissolution of the Netherlands Antilles and the forced annexation of Bonaire as a “territorial public entity” of the Netherlands, we have endured:

A 400% rise in immigration, with Dutch Europeans granted voting rights in local election and referendum after 90 days after arrival.

The displacement of the native Bonairean population, reduced from approximately 80% in 2010 to less than 30% today.

Loss of land, economic access, political voicelessness and cultural identity, as Dutch law overrides local governance. A process that amounts to ethnic and cultural erasure, framed as modernization.

While the world hears your strong words against recolonization, we have been living the outcomes of it for over a decade – not as speculation, but as everyday reality.

In 2015, the people of Bonaire overwhelmingly rejected this imposed status in a democratic referendum. Yet that clear voice of self-determination was ignored. Our democratic will was dismissed. Instead of being treated as partners in the Kingdom, we were expelled from the Kingdom Charter aka “Statuut” framework, left with no protection or recognition under its legal or political structure.

Shockingly, this exclusion from the “Statuut” was agreed upon not only by the Netherlands, but with the cooperation or acquiescence – or silence – of our Caribbean partners: St. Maarten, Curaçao, and Aruba. While they continue to operate as autonomous countries under the Charter, Bonaire was effectively cast out of the “Statuut” and subjected to the full force of unilateral Dutch rule. Silence becomes complicity?

Prime Minister Mercelina, we must also address what many across the Caribbean witnessed with concern: your role last October as Chair of a United Nations session during the “Pact of the Future” summit. We, with UN ECOSOC Consultative Status, witnessed firsthand how your presence was used to project an image of Caribbean inclusion and harmony in the Kingdom – yet while you chaired that meeting, Bonaire and its people were being systematically erased – its people displaced, its democratic will denied, under policies that mirror Baudet’s ideology in practice, if not in language.

This creates confusion and even false legitimacy in the eyes of UN Member states, experts and the international community. When a Caribbean Prime Minister appears to endorse the image of a harmonious Kingdom, while sister islands are being recolonized and depopulated, the result is misrepresentation of the truth and undermines our struggle.

We urge you to extend your voice to those already suffering under the very policies Baudet now dares to say aloud. Acknowledge the human rights crisis in Bonaire, and use your position to speak the full truth – for all Caribbean peoples in the Kingdom.

Sincerely, with respect and hope, as a native Bonerian who has survived three assassination attempts and unlawful imprisonment, I call on St. Maarten, Curaçao, and Aruba to unite with us in the name of justice.

James Finies,

Bonaire Human Rights Organization