Rain, Floods, and Political Kool-Aid: A Storm of Mismanagement

Last week, our “One Happy Island” was anything but sunny. Torrential rain wreaked havoc across Aruba, turning streets into rivers, flooding homes and businesses, and leaving cars stranded. To make matters worse, power outages piled onto the chaos, leaving many of us asking a straightforward question: How is this still happening?

Aruba boasts record-breaking tourism figures, an expanding airport, new hotel developments, three new hotels opening soon and a government flaunting a budget surplus. By all accounts, our infrastructure should mirror that success. Instead, it collapses at the first sign of rain, raising an uncomfortable question: Where did all that money go?

Infrastructure: The Forgotten Investment

During a recent political debate, the prime minister claimed that funds from a previous infrastructure initiative were redirected to “save lives” during the pandemic. On the surface, it sounds noble. But scratch the surface, and you’ll find cracks in that narrative - much like the cracks in our roads.

Aruba borrowed over half a billion dollars from the Dutch government during the pandemic, agreeing to significant reforms and reduced autonomy in exchange for financial aid. Yet part of those funds was mismanaged, and the government reneged on its agreements with the Netherlands. The result? Costly penalties in the form of sky-high interest rates.

To frame these actions as life-saving measures isn’t just misleading - it’s an insult to the people. The prime minister Wever-Croes knows this but also knows it’s politically advantageous to serve this Kool-Aid to the masses and party loyalists, who will be quick to drink it, echo her words, and spread the misinformation. Mismanagement at this scale doesn’t save lives; it squanders opportunities to improve them.

Saving Lives or Political Cover?

“Saving lives” became the administration’s rallying cry during a recent debate. But it’s worth asking: whose lives, exactly? The funds intended for infrastructure were repurposed, but where is the accountability for the reforms that were promised and ignored?

For those whose homes were flooded, whose cars were stranded, and whose businesses were disrupted, this isn’t about rhetoric - it’s about results. A truly life-saving strategy would have reinforced infrastructure before disaster struck rather than leaving the community to clean up the aftermath.

Bubali Plas: A Ticking Time Bomb

Regular readers of my column know I’ve repeatedly highlighted the Bubali Plas sewage treatment plant, a longstanding symbol of neglect, inefficiency, and poor governance.

As the rains poured this time, Bubali Plas once again found itself in the spotlight. Images and videos showed dark water flowing into the ocean, sparking serious concerns. Officials claimed it was “just rainwater and mud.” Yet when the plant’s release valves were opened, it was hard to believe no untreated sewage entered the sea.

I had a casual exchange with a staunch government supporter about this issue. He passionately defended the administration - until I asked if the prime minister herself would swim in that water to prove it was safe. His response? “No she won’t, she’s too busy.”

“Fine,” I replied, “then take your kids there for a day at the beach.” He quickly retorted, “Of course, I won’t do that to my kids.” I looked at him. The silence that followed was deafening. He knew the Kool-Aid was weak. He conceded. Checkmate.

It’s not just about the sewage water - it’s about the trustworthiness of those in charge. How long can they keep serving Kool-Aid and expect us to swallow it without question?

A Perfect Storm of Neglect

The Bubali Plas plant has been a problem for years. It has been ignored by successive administrations. Samples has revealed ecoli present in the sea across the Bubali Plas. With major hotel developments like St. Regis and Iberostar coming online - adding hundreds of rooms and thousands of flushes to the system? - we’re on the brink of a crisis.

When infrastructure budgets are slashed, financial oversight is lacking, and sewage systems are overburdened, disaster becomes inevitable. If we don’t act soon, the consequences will be catastrophic - not just for public health, but for Aruba’s reputation as a tourist destination.

A Call for Accountability

The timing of this chaos, just weeks before the elections, is ironic. Those responsible are busy shaking hands, kissing babies, and boasting about their achievements. But slogans and photo ops won’t fix the pipes or stop the floods.

Regardless of who wins, the next government must prioritize infrastructure - not as a campaign promise, but as a genuine commitment to the people. The rains have exposed the cracks, both literal and figurative, in our island’s foundation. Now is the time to rebuild before the next storm washes away more than just mud.

This week’s rain was a stark reminder that flashy numbers and political rhetoric mean nothing if they don’t translate into real-world improvements. Let’s hope the next administration steps up and delivers what Aruba truly deserves: a five-star infrastructure for a five-star island.

Until next week, stay safe, stay dry, and don’t forget to check out my latest blogs and podcasts at www.lincolngomez.com . See you soon!