Independence Euphoria Marred By Dark Drugs Decade

Between 1978 and 1982, the euphoria of our 1973 national independence, had somehow dissipated. What took its place, some have reasoned, was a type of malevolent spirit. Malevolence, for The Bahamas, came in the form of widespread drug dealing, money laundering and runaway corruption.

From Dog Flea Alley to Lyford Cay, from Grand Bahama to Inagua, from the most exclusive private enclaves to clapboard houses somewhere in the bush—drugs and free flowing drug money would brand this country with a reputation —that, to this very day, has yet to be completely forgotten.

Politicians were drunk with unfettered, unchecked political power. A newly independent Bahamas was a novice in every way. A gawky debutante invited to the ball called the world stage. Predators who had long assessed our vulnerabilities, circled these islands like hungry sharks. When they moved in for a juicy bite of our resources and stupidity, we hardly noticed what went missing.

New economic freedom, particularly for black Bahamians, burst the dams of moral propriety wide open. Lawyers littered Nassau with their business cards. Hood-rat drug dealers would step into court with lawyers only white people could once afford.

Shadowy figures with notorious reputations arrived daily in this newly independent paradise. Eager handshakes with one hand, transferred cashed stuffed suitcases with the other.

Sixteen year old kids, who could barely read or write, but who were willing to swim out to sea to guide drug boats to shore on some remote cay, had pockets full of American 100 dollar bills. And, if street urchins had that, imagine what was had as one moves up the professional ladder.

Lawyers partnered up in droves, to form austere sounding law firms. In turn, law firms soon gained a reputation as the new robber barons. A lawyer’s cumbersome 25 year house mortgage, could be paid off in a few months, by one good drug dealer client — of which there were many.

1970s Bahamas was hedonistic, shallow, compromised and bought. We were a playground for the rich and wannabe rich. We were our most beautiful, most desired selves. The world wanted what seemed to magically appear for us after independence in 1973. And by golly, we were eager to sell it.

By 1984, under intense political pressure from America and at home, Prime Minister Lynden Pindling called for an independent commission of inquiry into drug dealing and corruption allegations.

When the report was released in 1985, it made for scandalous headlines. Those dark drug years stole our national heroes, stole our national pride, stole a generation and told the world we were a nation for sale.