Dear Editor,
There are more frustrated people (if I may use that word) on the island than it seems. I dare state this because of the feedback I have been getting from prominent citizens of the country. I can possibly fill the centre page of the paper if I would take time to write a little part of the observations made by those who can know.
But I will limit it to my part. A lady who not so long ago gave birth to a baby girl wanted to know if she could call the police for the driver (not sure if he is the owner) of a car with black tint who plays very loud music next to where she lives. Because in the past I had heard that the police can’t do anything about the tint, which remains unbelievable to me, I decided to try and get the correct information about the problem with black tinted glass on motor vehicles.
You see, if I am a professional then I am supposed to know everything about my profession.
When I worked as a police officer I never and I will repeat “never” answered anyone who wanted information “I don’t know”. I made sure to direct them to where they could get the information they needed.
Nowadays all of the different instances are advocating to go online, whereas continuously the systems are down. And I can go on and on.
Not so long ago a lady said to me, “Russell, in all you days we used to see police and all you didn’t have airconditioned cars.” They know me by now, because in cases like that I always smile. I smile because it is not only the police. The public in general is not being served by another human being, but by a phone, a (talking) machine or you are told to submit your complaint in writing.
The lack of personal contact is manifesting itself into violent discourse. In this day and age with modern and sophisticated telecommunication, one would think that on a sixteen-square-miles piece of land government entities would work hand-in-hand and that telephone contact among departments would be an asset. On the contrary one is obliged to put one’s complaints in writing.
One department cannot approach the other department even though certain things are clear. At least that is my understanding. Probably I am still under the influence “stop it before it gets out of hand”, that is why I am expecting the other law-enforcement entities to be proactive. I continue to maintain that prevention is better than cure. That is one of the sayings I learned from the Dutch at a very young age already in primary school. “Voorkomen is beter dan genezen”. So I am still surprised that this practice is not kept by us.
I strongly believe, no, let me state it this way: I know that when drivers are kept in check tranquillity reigns. And there is no one in authority, male or female, who can try to say that he or she does not understand where I'm coming from.
Do something, do not wait until it hits home.
Russell A. Simmons
Dear Editor,
I am writing out of deep frustration and disappointment regarding an ongoing issue that has been plaguing the theoretical driver’s exam process in St. Maarten. As someone who has personally experienced this, I feel compelled to speak up not just for myself, but for the many others who are likely facing the same obstacle.
It is utterly unacceptable that the Internet at the location where the theory exam is held continues to cut out every single day, as confirmed by the very employees working there. Let that sink in: every day, the Internet goes down, and as a result, exams cannot take place. People take time off from work, make arrangements, study hard – and then are told they cannot proceed because the system is down, again.
Sure, there’s an option to reschedule, but here’s the catch: you don’t get a fixed date. Instead, you receive a phone call on the day the Internet happens to be working to ask if you’re available. This means you’re left in limbo, constantly on standby, and never knowing when you’ll actually be able to take the test. It’s an unreliable, stressful, and frankly unfair situation. How can one properly prepare for an exam that may or may not happen on any given day?
It is no wonder, then, that the traffic situation in St. Maarten is as chaotic and unsafe as it is. If this is how difficult it is just to take the theory exam, we can only imagine how many people are getting their licenses without being properly prepared or tested. This isn’t just a bureaucratic inconvenience – it’s a public safety issue.
I call on the government and responsible authorities to take this matter seriously. Fix the Internet. Fix the system. Provide a functioning, scheduled, and dependable process for taking this crucial exam. We deserve better, and so does the safety of our roads.
Sincerely,
A frustrated but hopeful citizen
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 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
