By SIMON

A friend who worked in government during the fury and aftermath of Hurricane Dorian and COVID-19, recalls an exchange with an associate, who asked if her faith in government was diminished because of the state’s performance during the twin “storms”, that punched the nation in rapid succession.

The question was somewhat loaded because the questioner expected the friend to join the chorus of those breezily bashing government. “No,” replied the friend, but “my faith in the Bahamian people has been diminished!”

The individual who worked in government during the crises knew well the failures of government generally and the mistakes and limitations of the state during the worst hurricane in modern history and the deadly pandemic.

But she was disturbed, even shocked, by the selfishness, non-cooperation, pettiness, at times meanness of spirit, and general poor attitude of many Bahamians. Yes, there were many examples of generosity, cooperation, and assistance, including that of various voluntary organisations and benefactors.

Still, there was a pervasive underlying attitude from scores, of entitlement, self-absorption, and belief that government was responsible for fixing just about every problem associated with the crises. These were all symptoms of our deeply entrenched dependency and “throw me out” culture.

After hurricanes, many now expect the state to fix their homes. The attitude of one resident of Grand Bahama, was typical. Asked if she had home insurance, she replied, “No!” Then she insisted the government was obliged to fix her house.

We do not live in a culture of preparedness, where supplies and emergency vehicles and equipment are prepositioned ahead of a hurricane. There are few well-organised volunteer citizen networks that can respond quickly. We expect government to step in immediately and fix all the problems quickly.

In a number of jurisdictions, volunteer organisations are well-organized as emergency responders following natural disasters, fires, and other emergencies.

Given our archipelagic nature and the complexity of organizing logistical support from New Providence, there is a need to boost and train Family Island volunteer networks. The attitude of “lets wait for Nassau” has life and death consequences.

We like to brag about being One Bahamas and a Family of Islands, with the accent on family. But COVID and Dorian exposed our insularity island by island and the indifference of the residents of New Providence to the other islands in the family of islands.

Days after the devastation of Dorian, some public sector union leaders were calling for increments as the country faced “estimated damages and losses… [of] US$3.4 billion (IDB, 2019), a number equivalent to a quarter of the country’s GDP.”

It was an act of stunning selfishness and self-absorption at a grave hour. It mirrored a greediness by some who hogged relief supplies and others who stole supplies.

Our dependency culture became more entrenched in part by Prime Minister Sir Lynden Pindling and his court. Bahamians were often told by the dons and dames of the court: “We gave you your freedom and independence.” “We gave you education and jobs.” “Now, you owe us your votes.”

This kind of patronage is not atypical in a number of countries including small island states such as the Caribbean and Pacific, as well as rural communities globally. In times past and present, big city bosses in now developed and developing states used such patronage to maintain loyalty and political support.

While such largescale patronage networks are less common in some jurisdictions, the dependency syndrome in the political realm remain highly operative in The Bahamas and many Caribbean and Latin American states.

Here at home, we live in a highly transactional society in which money, sex, political support, jobs and other items are constantly traded. Today, many voters expect money in return for their vote. Some become angered when no money is offered.

Patronage has its particular Bahamian characteristics and became even more severe during the notorious drugs era when just about everything was for sale.

A businessowner recalls a conservation with an employee who arrived at work complaining about how much a former government was spending on road paving, including the improved roads on which she drove to work: “Instead of paving all them roads, why don’t they give me some of that money for me and my children.”

This same employee later received funding from the Small Business Development Centre. Typically, she expressed scant gratitude for the opportunity she was awarded. She insisted the government “owed” her the grant.

The notions of the common good, of personal responsibility and other such values preached by members of the clergy and sometimes touted in the political sphere are exemplary ideals practiced by a good number of Bahamians.

Still, as often, these ideals often have little genuine currency in a social culture, especially in the urban centre of New Providence, characterised by an entrenched self-absorption, toleration for indolence and disregard for personal responsibility.

The ban on single-us plastics exposed the sociology of “throw me out” and dependency culture, particularly dependency on government. Some expressed the view: “If you give me free bags everything is okay but do not expect me to get my own bags. The government should give me all the bags I need.”

Another story. A friend recalls working at an upscale resort. On the rounds in housekeeping, he observed a co-worker going into a room and taking an item from the minibar. The co-worker asked if he wanted something from the bar, which he declined.

The explanation for purloining the item from the minibar: “Daddy wants us to have this.” When asked who Daddy was, the reply was simple and clear: “The white owner of the hotel.”

Arguably, most Bahamians view government as the ultimate sugar daddy. The “throw me out” culture is more than endemic. It is a way of life.

Hotel management and owners often report that the security issues they deal with most in The Bahamas is employee theft. Many Bahamians see nothing wrong with such theft because, in their minds, there is plenty to go around, and the owners can afford it.

The same businessowner who runs a retail store recalls one of her foreign suppliers who regularly complained that he was constantly being harassed for money, favours, breakfast, and various goods from the employees of the businesses he supplied.

He found the practice of constantly being asked for something rampant in The Bahamas.

A senior recalls taking a pan of cooked chicken to a fellowship event at a church populated mostly by middle class families. She noticed that during the course of the evening the chicken never made its way outside of the kitchen. Someone or a small group took the food home for themselves.

This sort of story is often repeated. Food items intended for others are often taken by those who can afford to buy the food but who often enviously decide that they want something for nothing.

The level of human development in The Bahamas is not as advanced as we may believe. As citizens and human beings, many still lack the basic habits and cultural and human values required to be a more civil and civilised people. This includes a greater sense of personal responsibility.

We are often a highly transactional, immature, and at times, infantile, waiting for favours and money from: a Santa Claus-like God, gaming bosses, partners and sweethearts, the Church, businesses, and the Obeah man or woman.

And if we cannot get others to throw us out, many of us are more than happy to tief what we want and to justify the tiefing in all kinds of clever ways, even as we clutch our Bibles and the ten commandments, including the admonition of Exodus 20:15 – “You shall not steal.”