NASSAU, BAHAMAS – I read with interest Pastor Lyall Bethel’s recent letter in The Tribune, and I want to begin by thanking him sincerely for his many years of spiritual service to our country.
In any healthy democracy, dissenting voices are necessary. But when commentary becomes personal, when it crosses from critique into condemnation, it warrants a response. Not out of anger, but out of responsibility.
I do not need to “buy a good name.” I have spent my life earning mine, with discipline, with consistency, and across multiple industries. I have built businesses, created jobs, navigated challenges, and learned hard lessons. I wear my name with pride because I know what it cost to build it.
If my name unsettles you, I understand. This is not new. Your public criticism dates back over a decade, and yet here we are, still debating my identity rather than my ideas. Still focused not on the work, but the man. But I am not responsible for the version of me that lives in your head. That is between you and your conscience.
The God I serve is the one who guided me through every rocky path and into every room I have ever entered. And I do not need to prove the strength of that relationship, certainly not to someone who would use the pulpit of public opinion to measure another man’s salvation. Some would argue that is not the value of our Christian faith.
I have said before and I will say it again. I am not here to glorify gaming. Like many industries, it has its flaws, and I will not pretend otherwise. But I did not introduce it to this country. I inherited its existence. And while many looked the other way or quietly benefited from the status quo, I chose to confront it. I advocated for structure, regulation, player protections, and real accountability. I helped turn an unregulated space into a governed framework. That did not happen by accident. It required vision, effort, and sacrifice. And for the progress we have made, I stand proud.
This is not about defending an industry. It is about defending a principle — that Bahamians, all Bahamians, should have the right to serve their country without being disqualified by bias, stigma, or legacy prejudice. Service should be measured by vision, character, and track record, not by assumptions rooted in decades-old narratives.
Because the truth is, this is not really about gambling. It is about something older, deeper, and more familiar. This is about who gets to speak, who gets to rise, and who is allowed to serve. We are not just debating policy. We are confronting a mindset that still tells some of us to know our place and be content with it.
It is a mindset passed down from a system that told entire generations they were only meant to support, but never decide. To contribute, but never shape the direction of the country. To cheer from the stands, but never step on the field.
That is not righteousness. That is control. And it has no place in the Bahamas we are trying to build.
I did not come from political lineage. I did not inherit a platform. I did not ask for permission to succeed. I worked. I created. I built. I served. I gave. I continue to do all of that today. And I stand here with no apologies, only purpose.
I also find it telling that those who criticize the loudest on this issue often fall quiet when it comes to the existence of land-based casinos in our capital, many of which are foreign-owned. Their revenues fuel the very hotels we hold up as national pride. And yet, not a word. That selective morality does not go unnoticed.
But let us not stay stuck in the past. This country does not need more shouting. It needs more solutions. It needs people who are willing to roll up their sleeves and take on the real issues: crime, education, food security, digital transformation, affordable housing, and generational wealth creation.
It needs people who are not afraid to think differently, serve differently, and be judged by their impact, not their pedigree.
If I ever chose to enter frontline politics, it would not be because someone gave me permission. It would be because I believe I can serve at a high level, because I see where my experience adds value, and because I am convicted by the belief that Bahamians deserve more and better.
And as for the young man you met more than a decade ago, I have grown. I have matured. I have made mistakes and learned from them. Today, I am a wiser man who understands that a good name cannot be bought. And that is why I am so at peace with the name I carry today.
It is not just mine. It is a symbol. A symbol to every young Bahamian who may not come from the right family, the right school, or the right neighborhood. A symbol that even when the system does not favor you, purpose still finds you. That you can rise, even when others hope you fall. And that prosperity is still possible, even when everyone is not rooting for you.
Because the future of The Bahamas will not be decided by gatekeepers. It will be built by people with vision, humility, and the courage to serve.
I write this as a matter of public record – I will not revisit this topic again.
To whom much is given, much is required. (Luke 12:48)
