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By Stefan K. Newton
On the global stage, Prime Minister Mia Amor Mottley commands standing ovations.
She has become one of the most recognizable voices in the international conversation on climate justice and financial reform, particularly through her signature proposal — the Bridgetown Initiative.
Her call for reparations for slavery and a new development deal for the Global South has earned her respect across Africa and acclaim from international institutions.
She has graced the cover of TIME Magazine, been profiled in Vogue, and accepted the prestigious Zayed Award for Human Fraternity.
At climate summits and global forums, Mottley speaks with moral clarity and oratorical brilliance. She is, without question, one of the most influential leaders to emerge from the Caribbean in this century.
But back home, the applause is drowned out by gunfire.
This is the quieter image of Barbados, one not found on postcards or conference stages.
It’s the image of a 166-square-mile island where the promise of safety, opportunity, and stability is being chipped away by a rising tide of violent gun crime.
As the Prime Minister builds her legacy abroad, many Barbadians are left asking: who is protecting the legacy — and lives — of people at home?
This international image of Barbados, found on Instagram reels of sun-drenched beaches and smiling locals, is a stark contrast to the Nation News headlines of “Living in Fear” and “Gunfire Shakes Six Roads” that now appear on a near-daily basis.
Together, they tell the story of a country gripped by a domestic crisis, one that no filter or drone shot can conceal.
The surge in gun and gang-related violence has shaken the country’s sense of security.
In 2024, Barbados recorded its highest number of criminal incidents in over a decade, with the Royal Barbados Police Force citing a troubling increase in firearm-related offences.
The most disturbing trend is the weaponry itself: high-powered firearms, often untraceable, are now in circulation, raising questions not just about policing, but national security.
The crisis came to a head on 22 June, 2025, when four gunmen launched a coordinated shooting spree with large automatic guns across two districts in St. Michael.
Gunshots damaged buildings and vehicles, with stray bullets entering homes and spent shells scattered across the road.
In response, Commissioner of Police Richard Boyce issued a chilling assessment, the violence, he said, had reached the level of domestic terrorism.
“Gangs have now declared open war on our society,” he told the nation. His words echoed a broader sentiment, that something fundamental is breaking.
Just hours after the deadly shooting spree, Deputy Prime Minister Santia Bradshaw, speaking at a Barbados Labour Party (“BLP”) branch meeting, confirmed what many already felt.
“Barbados is at a tipping point,” she said, noting that of the 25 homicides reported so far this year, she personally knew at least 20 of the victims. The loss is no longer abstract. It is personal, painful, and close.
This surge in violence does not exist in a vacuum. It reflects, in part, the same inequality that Prime Minister Mottley so passionately critiques on the world stage. But in Barbados, that inequality is felt in a more immediate and painful form.
The unequal ability to feel safe. A 2025 national survey led by University of the West Indies Professor Dwayne Devonish found that some families are now spending tens of thousands on home security, while others, unable to afford CCTV or electric gates, live in fear.
The burden of insecurity has become yet another tax on the poor.
There is also an educational dimension to this crisis. A recent study revealed that 95 percent of those convicted of violent crimes in Barbados read at the level of a toddler.
That statistic is not just damning, it is heartbreaking.
It points to the persistence of deep systemic failure, particularly in the education system, which the Prime Minister pledged to reform in page 14 of the 2018 BLP Manifesto entitled “Building the Best Barbados Together”.
Back in 2018, across campaign platform speeches Mottley promised the “death knell of the Common Entrance Exam” and the elevation of every school to “top school” status.
In 2023, that the Mottley-led administration unveiled a plan to “deconstruct and reconstruct” Barbados’ education system in a glossy policy document titled “Reimagining Education in Barbados.”
The launch event, led by then Minister of Education Kay McConney and Chief Education Officer Romana Archer-Bradshaw had the feel of a high-end Apple product reveal, complete with flashy visuals, aspirational goals, and polished messaging.
But, two years later since the launch of the “Reimagining Education in Barbados” policy and after two terms in office for the Mottley administration, the Common Entrance Exam remains in place unchanged.
There has also been no comprehensive update on the Reimagining Education plan’s implementation, and the colonial-era structure still sorts 11-year-olds into academic fates, reinforcing privilege for a few and limiting mobility for many.
For all the talk of deconstruction and reconstruction, the reality for thousands of students — especially those from working-class communities — is that they are still being failed by an outdated and unequal system.
The divide between elite and underperforming schools continues to fuel cycles of inequality and marginalization, trapping many young people in cycles of underachievement, frustration, and economic exclusion.
The very conditions that incubate crime and the ongoing social crisis.
Efforts to stem the violence have so far failed to inspire confidence. The National Advisory Council on Citizen Security to Fight Crime (Crime Council), launched in 2024, was intended to serve as a wide-reaching, strategic response to the problem.
Yet, its effectiveness has been undermined by its own leadership crisis. Chairperson Professor Velma Newton resigned less than a year into the role, warning that the process risked becoming a “good opportunity to make money from public funds.
This was my feeling when I finally saw some of the “Peace Programme” initiatives, and I still feel this way.” She was not the only one to raise alarms.
The National Peace Program (NPP), designed to steer young men away from gang violence, has also faced damning scrutiny.
The Attorney General, Dale Marshall himself has admitted “mistakes were made,” after it was discovered that individuals still involved in criminal activity had received state funding under the guise of community outreach. Public trust, once again, was squandered.
This pattern -bold announcements followed by weak implementation — is becoming all too familiar. It’s not a lack of ideas, but a lack of follow-through.
And in the realm of citizen security, failure carries a high price: lost lives, broken families, and a population retreating into fear.
It also forces an uncomfortable reckoning with the dual narratives that now define Barbados. On one hand, a global stateswoman whose voice resonates from New York to Addis Ababa.
On the other, a domestic crisis playing out in the exchange gun shots between warring gangs and the funerals of young men. The dissonance is no longer symbolic.
It is structural. And it is unsustainable.
The situation facing Barbados today is not unique. Countries across the Caribbean and Latin America are wrestling with similar challenges: inequality, youth disenfranchisement, and the destabilizing influence of illegal firearms.
But what makes the Barbadian case particularly urgent is the gulf between perception and reality, between the image the government projects and the conditions it tolerates.
To close that gap, the government must do more than tweak policies or reshuffle committees. It must show the same moral courage at home that it demands from the international system.
It must center the voices of the vulnerable, prioritize genuine reform, and build institutions that can withstand public scrutiny and deliver real results.
Barbados is indeed at a tipping point. The question is not whether we can avoid falling, but whether we are willing to face the truth that for too long, the applause abroad has muffled the cries at home.
Stefan Newton is a Barbadian national, a UK Chevening Scholar. He is a graduate of The University of the West Indies Faculty of Law, American University Washington College of Law and Queen Mary University of London Centre for Commercial Legal Studies.
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Which really makes me question as usual “is there any link between tourism and crime”? Barbados’ product continue to thrive.
VOICES FROM THE GHETTO – CRYING
By Singing Sandra
The sun rises slowly over the hills,
Everywhere is golden sunlight but still
Most nights with sad tales are crowded
Their days with dark clouds are shrouded
They don’t smile and they never will,
Only vultures get their fill.
Empty promises is what they hear
No running water from year to year
Hearts that know one desire –
That if there is a Messiah,
Someday He’d hear their whispered prayer.
Cupboard always bare and scanty
Ten people in a one-bedroom shanty
Forced to sell on the pavement
No vacancies, no employment
Can’t tell firecracker from gunshot
Blood does flow when things get hot
Ah ‘fraid to look out mih window
To hear voices from the ghetto…
Result oriented politicians like Donald Trump are hard to come by. Flashy politicians with no results are failures.
Sad but true. We shining abroad but struggling to fix the problems right here.
You can’t build a nation on applause abroad and silence at home.
Antigua looking sweet from the outside, but inside hurting bad.
Me tired of hearing bout gunshots every week. When the fix coming?