bahamas

New Horizon Worship Ministries was filled with songs of praise, memories and silent grief on Saturday as family and friends gathered to lay Nica Juilen to rest.

For Nica’s mother, the moment seemed almost too heavy to absorb.

As the praise team sang, “Goodness of God,” she sat nearly motionless, her head resting on the shoulder of another as she sought comfort in the middle of an unbearable goodbye.

But around her were mourners carrying their own memories of Nica, who they said had a remarkable ability to make others feel loved.

Nica, 26, died after leaving a function and crashing into a utility pole. She later succumbed to her injuries in hospital, leaving behind family, friends and a young son trying to understand a loss no one expected.

For Chloe Miller, Nica became like a sister in just one year.

Their friendship deepened through moments of joy and pain, including when Miller lost her father.

Nica was there to wipe her tears.

“You always encouraged me to do what’s best for me and celebrate my achievements,” Miller remembered. “You have no idea how much you healed me.

“So many priceless memories in so little time.”

Shasheena Clarke remembered Nica as a loving person whose presence could fill a room.

“Her smile lit up a room a mile away,” she said.

Nica may have been small in stature, Clarke said, but she carried herself with a confidence that made her seem much larger.

“She might have been short in stature, but in her mind she was at least seven feet tall.”

Her heart, Clarke said, belonged to three things above all: God, her mother and her son.

She had met Nica through her aunt, but said their connection quickly felt much longer than it actually was.

Pastor Karol Roach urged the grieving family to trust God even when the answers remain beyond their understanding.

“Let not your heart be troubled,” he reminded them.

He spoke about the fragility of life and the limited number of days given to each person.

“Life is short. Life is fragile,” Roach said, reminding the congregation that life is not a rehearsal.

“We measure life in years, but God measures in days.”

Nica’s final day, he said, was June 28, 2026.

The pastor urged those gathered to consider their own numbered days and to make each one count.

“Teach us to number our days,” he said.

As her casket was slowly rolled out of the church, the congregation continued to sing, “It’s Alright Now.”

The song carried her away from the sanctuary, but the memories remained.

Video credit: JS Event Management

For Tameka Barrat, losing her twin sister was losing the person she describes as her “other half.”

Now, as she tries to come to terms with a loss that came suddenly and tragically, Barrat is asking the Bahamian community for help giving her sister, Toniquea Gilot, a final farewell.

“Help us lay our beloved twin sister, Toniquea Gilot, to rest,” Barrat wrote in a GoFundMe campaign launched on Monday.

Toniquea was among 10 people killed in a plane crash on July 10, Bahamas Independence Day, while travelling from Nassau to San Andros.

She was also a singer with the Pond Band, bringing music and her own presence to the lives of those who knew her.

For her twin, however, Toniquea was family and her other half.

And now Tameka is facing the painful reality of having to bury her.

“Losing my twin sister is a pain that is difficult to put into words,” Barrat wrote. “She was not only my sister, but my other half, and her sudden passing has left an enormous hole in our family.”

The family is now trying to raise $7,000 to help cover the costs associated with Toniquea’s burial, including a burial plot, casket, funeral arrangements and other necessary expenses.

For a family already dealing with the shock of losing a loved one in such a sudden way, the financial burden can make an already painful period even harder.

Barrat is therefore turning to relatives, friends, strangers and anyone willing to help.

“We are reaching out to family, friends, and anyone who feels moved to help us during this incredibly difficult time,” she said.

“Anything will help,” she later wrote on Facebook.

It is a small request carrying a heavy weight. The family wants to give Toniquea the peaceful and dignified farewell they believe she deserves.

“Forever loved and forever missed, forever my twin,” Tameka wrote.

Click here to help: GoFundMe

“See you later, baby. Mommy loves you.”

With those words, Keno Gordon’s mother watched as her son’s casket was closed for the final time.

The goodbye came in Exuma, where family, friends and mourners gathered to lay to rest a young man whose life ended too soon.

Keno was one of five young people killed in the June 28 crash on Shirley Street.

But on Friday and Saturday, those who loved Keno remembered the competitor, the jokester, the hardworking employee, the basketball lover and, according to one former teacher, the boy who could hardly resist a cookie.

At the Ramsey Cemetery in Exuma, mourners hugged, sang and said goodbye as Keno was laid to rest.

A basketball was placed with him, a small symbol of the sport he loved.

For Roland Evans-Knowles, a former teacher, Keno would always be her “cookie monster.”

“One thing about Keno, he loved to eat, especially cookies,” she remembered during a service at Life Changers on Friday.

In fact, she recalled, the only time Keno was ever punished in her classroom was for eating during lessons.

His love of cookies eventually became a classroom joke, one that brought smiles and laughter.

But there was more to Keno than his mischievous appetite. Evans-Knowles remembered his sense of humour and his competitive spirit, particularly during Sports Day, when the two became friendly rivals, passionately cheering for their favourite teams.

“Watching him compete reminded everyone of his friendly nature and competitive spirit,” she said.

Even after Keno graduated, the relationship continued.

She checked on him from time to time, a bond formed in a classroom that extended well beyond his school years.

What she remembers most now are his laughter, kindness and determination.

His uncle, Pastor Kendal Butler, remembered another side of him.

Keno wanted to lead. Whether he was fishing, playing basketball or participating in Junkanoo, he wanted to be among the best.

During fishing trips, Butler recalled, Keno competed to catch the biggest lobster.

“He always wanted to be the leader,” he said.

But the competitiveness never erased his love for the people around him.

“I’m going to miss him. I love him,” Butler said.

Horace Albury, Keno’s mentor and manager, remembered a young man who worked hard without making a spectacle of it.

Despite his size, Albury said, Keno was remarkably humble.

“He became like a son,” he said.

What impressed him most was Keno’s work ethic.

“He never shied away from hard work. He never complained and just got the job done.”

Those memories now become part of the legacy Keno leaves behind.

At the cemetery, mourners sang, “When I get to that city of gold,” as they gathered around Keno’s final resting place.

And for a family forced to bury a son, nephew and loved one far too soon, faith offered another place to hold onto.

Keno’s favourite scripture was Proverbs 3:5-6—a passage about trusting God and allowing Him to direct the path ahead.

His earthly path has ended.

Picture credit: Through the Eyes of Ezra

Fifty-eight dollars and thirty-three cents is reportedly the monthly increase a classroom teacher receives upon being promoted to senior master, senior mistress or edication officer in the public school system.

On paper, it is a promotion, but in reality, does it feel like one?

The Ministry of Education, Science and Technology this week celebrated the promotion of several educators, describing the appointments as part of its effort to strengthen school leadership, fill administrative vacancies and improve morale across the public education system.

Those objectives are important. Every successful school depends on strong leadership, but leadership also comes with a price.

Unlike classroom teachers, senior masters and senior mistresses generally work longer hours, remain on duty throughout the summer, carry significant administrative responsibilities and serve as the bridge between teachers, principals, parents and the ministry.

The role demands more accountability, paperwork, meetings and pressure.

Yet according to education union officials, the additional compensation is just $58.33 per month.

How does the Bahamas value leadership in education?

Promotion has traditionally represented more than a new title, because it signals experience, professional growth and recognition.

It tells educators that years of service, advanced qualifications and leadership potential have been rewarded. But when the financial difference is measured in mere dollars and cents rather than hundreds, that begins to fade.

The discussion became even more troubling when Bahamas Educators Management Union President Stephen McPhee revealed that some newly promoted administrators have yet to receive even that increase because their employment records have not been updated while serving in administration capacity.

For some, significant retroactive payments remain outstanding.

That means some educators are already carrying additional responsibilities while continuing to receive their previous teacher salary.

Across the public sector, governments often encourage professional development, higher qualifications and career advancement. But advancement must remain meaningful.

If promotions demand significantly greater responsibility without meaningful improvement in compensation, they risk becoming less attractive to the very people the system hopes to retain.

That creates a long-term challenge. Who will become tomorrow’s leaders in education?

Experienced teachers already face growing demands inside the classroom. If moving into administration requires sacrificing evenings, summers and work-life balance for little financial reward, many may reasonably decide the promotion is not worth pursuing.

The figure of $58.33 demonstrates how leadership in education is perceived and how experience is rewarded.

Every election cycle revives the same fears of people allegedly losing opportunities because of their political affiliation.

Beaches and Parks Chairman Jamahl Strachan knowingly hired a woman who was not only a Free National Movement supporter, but a well-known Torchbearer, the FNM’s youth arm. Her political affiliation was no secret during the interview process. She was reportedly approved by the board, participated in staff training, accepted the position and resigned from stable employment before accepting the new post.

Now her reported forced resignation at Beaches and Parks Authority, is an inevitable shock, considering her recent hiring attracted public interest– criticism from some supporters of the Progressive Liberal Party and praise from bipartisan supporters.

Was Strachan attempting to do something different?

Hiring across party lines would have represented a significant departure from the political culture Bahamians have grown accustomed to. It would have suggested that her expertise could outweigh political allegiance.

For years, Bahamians have called for merit-based appointments. Governments of every political persuasion have spoken about national unity, professionalism and putting country before party. Yet every time allegations such as these emerge, public confidence takes another hit.

Perhaps the strongest evidence of that distrust is how quickly so many Bahamians came to believe it.

Of course, there are still important questions that deserve answers.

Did anyone outside the Authority intervene? What role, if any, did the board play? Most importantly, what explanation does the Authority have for what occurred?

At the same time, silence rarely restores public trust.

If Strachan did, in fact, appoint someone based on qualifications despite political differences, then he should explain what happened afterward. If the decision changed for legitimate administrative reasons, the public deserves that explanation as well.

The Bahamas has spent generations talking about ending political victimisation. Every administration promises a different politics and every opposition condemns patronage while demanding fairness.

Yet the conversation never seems to move forward.

For years, Antoine Duncombe stood in front of classrooms teaching students. But behind the lessons, the preparation and the dedication was another reality familiar to many educators— the struggle to feel valued in a profession built on sacrifice.

Last month, Duncombe opened a national conversation when he spoke publicly in mainstream media and on social media about the financial challenges facing teachers in the Bahamas.

His message was a person’s salary should reflect their skills, qualifications, experience and contribution.

“Teachers in the Bahamas are expected to shape the nation’s future, yet far too many are trying to survive on salaries that simply do not match the demands or responsibilities of the profession,” he wrote to social media.

His words resonated with educators across the country.

Many shared stories of leaving the education system for better opportunities. Others spoke about the difficulty of balancing a passion for teaching with the reality of rising living costs and financial responsibilities.

Duncombe, an educator with more than 11 years of experience, was honest about his own journey.

As a male educator, he said the current salary structure made it increasingly difficult to build the kind of future many professionals aspire to have.

He even shared his resume publicly, seeking opportunities that reflected what he believed his experience and qualifications were worth.

The response was overwhelming. Duncombe said he received numerous offers after sharing his resume.

But in the end, he remains in education. He is returning to the school environment in a new role — as a Senior Master for the 2026 school term, he announced in a social media post.

Duncombe was among several educators who officially received their letters of promotion, marking the start of a new chapter in their careers ahead of the 2026 school year.

Following news of his appointment, Duncombe shared a message of confidence.

“I don’t compete for space, I own mine,” he wrote. “I walk into every room with confidence, not arrogance. I know who I am, what I bring, and the value I carry.”

His message continued: “Never dim your light to make someone else shine brighter. Take your seat. Use your voice. Own your space.”

“Promotion comes from God! No other words,” he said.

For a brief moment, electric cars found themselves at the centre of a national conversation, because they were mentioned during a press conference following another round of frustrating power outages in New Providence.

The debate quickly moved beyond electricity and raised a more interesting question: Just how many electric vehicles are actually on Bahamian roads?

The answer may surprise many people.

According to Pia and John Farmer, owners of Easy Car Sales and The Bahamas’ authorised BYD dealer, there are an estimated 2,500 electric vehicles currently on the nation’s roads. There is no official government count, but even by industry estimates, electric vehicles remain a small fraction of the country’s overall vehicle fleet.

Yet their presence is becoming increasingly noticeable.

Walk through a supermarket parking lot, pull into a shopping plaza or drive through western New Providence, and the quiet hum of electric vehicles is no longer unusual. It is gradually becoming part of everyday Bahamian life.

Recent buyer Neko Gibson shared the numbers behind his purchase of a Changan Deepal S05, offering a glimpse into how many consumers are approaching the market.

He purchased the vehicle for $17,300, paid $3,200 to ship it to the Bahamas, and another $4,462 in duty and VAT.

His total landed cost came to roughly $25,000.

The same model, he said, sells locally for about $40,000.

When Gibson visited a dealership in Nassau, only one vehicle remained on the lot.

Whether that reflects limited inventory or growing demand, it points to a market that appears to be gaining momentum.

Dealers say today’s buyers are driven less by novelty than by long-term savings.

According to Easy Car Sales, electric vehicles can cost about 65 percent less to own over their lifetime than comparable gasoline-powered vehicles because of lower fuel costs and reduced maintenance.

For households feeling the squeeze of rising living expenses, that calculation is becoming harder to ignore.

The global trend is moving in the same direction.

Last year, roughly one in every four new vehicles sold worldwide was fully electric, signalling that the transition is already happening.

The Bahamian government expressed its embrace of that future.

Under its Nationally Determined Contributions submitted to the United Nations, the Government has committed to a goal that by 2035, half of all new vehicles sold should be fully electric, while another 30 percent should be hybrids.

If those ambitions are realised, today’s estimated 2,500 electric vehicles will represent only the beginning.

For now, the electric vehicle remains something of a quiet revolution.

For most Bahamians, Tuesday was the first time they had ever seen Dareo McKenzie.

Three months into his tenure as chief executive officer of Bahamas Grid Company (BGC), he stepped before the national media as the country grappled with repeated blackouts, growing public frustration and questions about the reliability of the electricity system.

It was an opportunity to introduce himself, inspire confidence and explain how BGC intends to improve the country’s ageing grid.

Instead, many people left talking about beaches and electric vehicle chargers.

As New Providence endured sweltering temperatures and recurring outages, McKenzie appealed to residents to reduce electricity consumption during peak hours.

“We have a very beautiful island,” he said.

“Constant breeze. Sometimes it may not be a bad thing. I know I do it. I go out and I sit on the beach and enjoy what this beautiful island has to offer.”

He also urged consumers to report major new electrical loads, including electric vehicle chargers, warning that unreported connections place additional strain on the grid.

From an engineering perspective, encouraging energy conservation during peak demand is standard practice around the world. Utilities routinely ask consumers to shift heavy electricity use away from peak periods to help stabilize the network.

The problem was not necessarily the advice, but perhaps the timing.

Many Bahamians had spent days without reliable electricity. Some had slept in uncomfortable homes, thrown away spoiled food or watched businesses struggle through repeated outages during high temperatures.

Against that backdrop, telling residents to enjoy the beach and reduce their own electricity use was always likely to be received as tone-deaf.

The public conversation quickly shifted away from McKenzie’s technical message and toward what many perceived as a failure to appreciate the scale of public frustration.

His comments about electric vehicle chargers generated similar skepticism.

Some questioned whether EVs represent a significant enough share of electricity demand to justify being highlighted at a moment when the public wanted answers about ageing infrastructure, transformers, substations and feeder failures.

Fairly or unfairly, the impression left was that consumers were once again being asked to shoulder part of the responsibility for a system they believe has failed them.

That is an unfortunate start for a chief executive who is, in many ways, beginning with a clean slate.

McKenzie assumed leadership after Bahamas Grid Company transitioned to a fully Bahamian-led operating model following the departure of Island Grid’s management team earlier this year.

He inherited not only the responsibility of operating the country’s transmission and distribution network, but also the challenge of rebuilding public confidence in an electricity system that has become synonymous with disruption.

That confidence will not be rebuilt through technical explanations alone, but through communication that meets people where they are.

These are moments of national frustration, and his leadership is being judged as much by empathy as by expertise.

Bahamians wanted to hear how outages would become less frequent, how long repairs would take and what measurable improvements they should expect.

Instead, much of the public conversation focused on beaches and EV chargers.

First impressions are important.

For nearly an hour, some of the country’s top electricity officials stood before the nation trying to explain why Bahamians continue to endure recurring blackouts despite repeated assurances that the country was “summer ready.”

The message from Bahamas Power and Light (BPL) and Bahamas Grid Company was familiar while some are fairly new: The grid is complex, the weather is hotter, unexpected failures happen, no electrical system can be 100 percent reliable, consumers should reduce electricity use during peak hours and electric vehicle chargers should be reported.

But the public’s response revealed a growing crisis of confidence.

Across social media, frustration quickly drowned out the explanations.

“They always looking for someone to blame. They just need to get it right,” one Bahamian wrote.

Another dismissed the explanations entirely.

“Excuses for their lack of upgrade to their system.”

When officials suggested that residents should report electric vehicle chargers because of the additional load they place on the grid, another response reflected the skepticism many consumers now feel.

“The suggestion that EV chargers ought to be reported is absurd. Most houses that utilize an EV charger find that consumption entirely fits within their amperage service.”

Whether every criticism is technically accurate is almost beside the point. The bigger story is that many Bahamians no longer trust what they are hearing.

That is a dangerous place for any public utility to find itself.

For months, Bahamians have listened to announcements about modernization, infrastructure upgrades and preparations for the summer peak season.

Then came repeated outages, island-wide blackouts, and rotational load shedding in the middle of summer.

Neighbourhoods spending hours without electricity and public sleeping in a puddle of sweat.

By the time executives held Tuesday’s press conference, many consumers were no longer listening to the explanations.

When families are sleeping without air conditioning, businesses are throwing away spoiled inventory and workers are struggling to stay productive, asking the public to use less electricity can sound more like another burden than a solution.

The electricity system is genuinely complicated, and consumers deserve honest information about generation, substations, feeders and distribution.

But communication only works when it is matched by visible progress. Without that, every explanation risks sounding like another excuse.

Bahamians understand that no electrical system is perfect but what many appear unwilling to accept is a cycle of recurring outages followed by another round of explanations.

The challenge facing BPL and Bahamas Grid Company is bigger than repairing transformers or replacing feeders, but rebuilding trust.

Many Bahamians have reached the point where they believe the explanations have become more reliable than the electricity itself.

Anthony Thompson fought back tears as he stood in Highway Church of God Temple on Saturday, saying goodbye to the little girl who had given his life a new purpose.

To the congregation, she was Bertrica “Trica” Brown, one of the five young lives lost in last month’s devastating Shirley Street crash.

To Anthony, she was the little sister he became a father to.

Long before Trica dreamed of college and athletics, Anthony made a decision that would change both of their lives. At just 27 years old, he stepped into a role he had never expected to carry.

He would raise her and would become the parent she needed after the loss of their biological parents.

“I didn’t know how to raise a teenage girl,” he admitted. “There were times I thought I would give up. But Trica made it easier than he ever imagined.

“I thank God she wasn’t someone who gave me attitude or really stressed me out. She wasn’t rebellious.”

Still, love required sacrifice. Anthony remembers days when there simply wasn’t enough money for both of them.

“There were times when I did not eat,” he said. “I’d think, ‘Man, I’m only 27. I’m trying to feed a whole child, and I need to eat too.’ I felt like I grew up so quickly.”

He quietly carried the burden, trusting God to provide.

His own dreams took a back seat so hers could grow.

Knowing how much she loved sports, Anthony threw himself into helping her succeed. Already involved in basketball, volleyball and flag football, he even started a track club because Trica wanted to become a thrower.

Her dreams became his mission.

As she grew older, Anthony found himself balancing two identities that often collided.

“There were times being her brother and being her father was clashing,” he said.

“Trica was very clingy. I wasn’t that kind of person. Because of her, I had to sacrifice the way I am. I had to break down.”

On his 30th birthday, Anthony prayed a prayer he says changed his heart.

“Lord, I give her back to You. You gave me her as a responsibility, and I trust You. Show me everything You have for her.”

Even when Anthony could not afford private school tuition for months at a time, doors kept opening.

“There were times I put her in private school and couldn’t pay the fees,” he recalled. “But I thank God for the favor He placed on her life.”

Eventually, Trica earned a partial scholarship to attend college.

Anthony had spent years worrying about how he would provide for her future. It seemed God was doing what he no longer could.

He was ready to make one more sacrifice. “I was willing to sacrifice a few more years all over again,” he said.

He never got the chance. Instead, he found himself standing before her casket.

As he reflected on raising Trica, Anthony acknowledged that one of their greatest challenges had been helping her understand why God had chosen him and his wife to become her parents.

“It was difficult for her to understand that God placed a mother and father in her life after her biological parents died,” he said. “But God gave me the patience. At first, I didn’t have it.”

The dreams they had planned together remain unfinished. But Anthony says he has found peace in one truth.

“Trica was safe. I watched her grow up. And I thank God that I can rest knowing she knew the Lord.”

Yet even faith has not silenced the ache.

“I am okay with what God is doing,” he said softly. “But my emotions… my feelings… they just won’t leave me alone.”