Good evening,
Friends,
Earlier this week, I sat with a group of young people enrolled in one of our national programmes. They were bright, curious, full of questions. One young man — no older than nineteen — stood up and asked, quietly but seriously: “Prime Minister, how do I find purpose?”
It caught me off guard. Not because it was unexpected, but because of the weight behind it. You could hear in his voice that he wasn’t asking for a slogan or a soundbite. He was asking something deeper. “Where do I fit in a country that often overlooks people like me? In a system that’s slow to respond, slow to change?”
That question — how do I find purpose? — is one of the most important questions any of us in government can hear. And it stays with me because it’s the same question people across our country ask every day, even if they don’t put it into words.
When a mother walks into a clinic and finds no nurse, no medicine, no answers — she’s asking that question.
When a young person applies for job after job and never hears back — they’re asking it too.
When an elder in a Family Island sits and watches their community lose access to basic services — they ask it in silence.
It is the question that lies beneath all others: Is anyone listening? Does anyone care? Is this system capable of delivering something meaningful to me?
That is why delivery matters.
Because it’s the difference between a government that speaks and a government that serves.
And we all know the reality. Public systems are not always agile. Bureaucracies are slow. Resources are limited. Promises pile up faster than outcomes.
So when we talk about delivery, we are talking about something that must cut through all of that. We are talking about overcoming the very structure of delay. And that is no easy task.
But it is possible. It has to be. Because the alternative is failure — not of politics, but of trust. And when trust goes, everything else goes with it.
In The Bahamas, we knew we couldn’t afford another cycle of good intentions without follow-through. We couldn’t afford to govern by press release. We needed to show results. Not because it would win us praise, but because it was the only way to rebuild belief.
And so we made a choice. We chose to make delivery the centre of our administration’s mission.
We embraced the work of Sir Michael Barber and the Delivery Associates — not for window dressing, but for structural change. We asked for help building systems that would hold us accountable to the people, not just to ourselves.
What followed was not always smooth. There were moments of resistance, moments of doubt. But we stuck with it. We stayed the course. And the results are beginning to show.
Thousands of children now begin their day with a nutritious breakfast — a basic, vital act that makes a world of difference. That’s not a policy paper. That’s a meal that keeps a child focused and a parent a little less anxious.
Our Youth Guard is training young Bahamians to serve their communities, respond to emergencies, and see themselves as part of the nation’s fabric. For many of them, this is the first time they’ve been told, “You matter. We need you.”
We’ve opened clinics in places that were once abandoned by the healthcare system. We’ve broken ground on infrastructure that had been ignored for decades. We’ve begun digitising government services so people don’t have to take a day off work just to stand in line.
We’re also building airports in the Family Islands — not just to welcome tourists, but to give communities a sense of connection, dignity, and equal importance.
This is what delivery looks like. It’s not perfect. It’s not finished. But it’s real.
And it’s being led by people who believe that good government is possible.
I want to thank Fio and Christian, who came not as outsiders, but as partners. You immersed yourselves in our way of doing things. You asked the hard questions. You earned the trust of our teams. You showed that international expertise doesn’t mean coming in with all the answers — it means coming in willing to listen and to learn.
I also want to recognise someone who never asks for recognition: Allison Collie, our Chief of Staff and COO of my Delivery Unit. Allison, you are the anchor. Your quiet strength, your attention to detail, your calm under pressure — you have been the steady hand behind much of this progress. I know how much you carry, and I want you to know it’s seen and valued.
To the team at the PMDU, I am grateful for your commitment in moving our national priorities along.
And, to the entire team at Delivery Associates: your work has helped move us from concept to execution. You’ve reminded us, again and again, that delivery isn’t about announcements. It’s about systems, habits, and results.
But we cannot be satisfied. Not now. Not ever.
Delivery is not a one-time achievement. It’s a way of governing. It’s a standard we must recommit to every day.
Because behind every successful project is a person who needed help — and got it.
And behind every delayed or failed project is a person who needed help — and didn’t.
We must never lose sight of that. This isn’t about programmes. It’s about people. About that young man who asked me about “purpose”. About the single mother with three kids. About the retired nurse in Inagua who still gives medical advice to neighbours because the clinic is understaffed.
These are the people we serve. And they deserve better.
They deserve delivery.
As we leave this retreat, I want each of us to reflect on our part in this.
Not just what we’ve done, but what we still must do. Where we’ve fallen short. Where we’ve accepted delay as normal. Where we’ve let complexity become an excuse.
Let’s go back to our offices with a renewed sense of discipline. Let’s treat every task as a chance to rebuild trust. Let’s keep asking: is this reaching the person it was meant to reach? Are we closing the gap between government and the governed?
Let’s keep pushing.
Let’s keep going.
Because every time we deliver — truly deliver — we are answering that young man’s question.
We are telling him: you do have a place. You do matter. And yes — there is purpose in service. Real purpose. The kind that can change a country, one outcome at a time.
Thank you.