Dear Editor,

I am a 27-year-old Jamaican. I work hard. I pay my taxes. I try to do everything the right way. I was raised to believe that if you stay focused, avoid ‘badness’, get an education, and remain honest, you will live a good life in this country.

But as each month passes, and the cost of living rises, I am forced to face a painful truth: Jamaica is not built for people like me. It is not built for those without links. It is not built for the everyday youth trying to make something of themselves. And it is time we say it aloud.

We are constantly being told that Jamaica is on the rise. We hear about record-low unemployment. We hear about debt reduction and International Monetary Fund (IMF) praise. We hear the prime minister boasting about the strongest economy since Independence. But ask the average Jamaican if he/she feels this strength and you will hear the same answer, again and again: “No. We do not feel it.”

How can this be the strongest economy when I still cannot afford to own a home? The average cost of a modest house in Kingston is now over $20 million, but most young professionals barely earn $200,000 per month before taxes. By the time we pay rent, bills, loan repayments, and try to buy groceries, there is nothing left to save. We contribute to the National Housing Trust (NHT) every month, but when we apply for a loan we are told we do not qualify or the house costs too much. So who are these houses for? Who is the NHT really working for?

How can we celebrate growth when our public health-care system is crumbling? People spend 10 hours waiting in pain at the hospital just to be told that there are no beds or the machine is not working. Surgeries are delayed for months. Medications are unavailable. Nurses are burned out. Doctors are overworked. We are told that health-care is free, but many of us still end up paying private doctors because the public clinics have nothing to offer. What happens to those who cannot afford the private option? Do they just suffer silently until they die?

How can we praise progress when basic food items are now luxuries? A simple grocery trip now costs upwards of $30,000. Chicken, rice, flour, bread, milk, eggs, and cooking oil have all become burdens on our monthly budget. We stretch our salaries thinner and thinner every week. Our light bills rise even when we use less. Water bills increase for services we barely receive. We are sacrificing more, yet we are falling further behind. There is no comfort in the headline of a debt reduction when your cupboard is empty.

Then there is transportation. In the capital city, the roads are jammed with expensive sports utility vehicles (SUVs) and government convoys, while the average Jamaican squeezes into overcrowded, unreliable public transport. Owning a car is a dream for many of us, not because we are lazy or irresponsible, but because even a 10-year-old used car now costs millions. And after that, there is gas, insurance, maintenance, and taxes. Everything is expensive. Nothing feels achievable.

So I ask again: Where is the prosperity? Who is truly benefiting? Because from where I sit, it is not the youth. It is not the working class. It is not the teacher, the police officer, the civil servant, the nurse, the bus driver, the call centre agent, or the small business owner. It is not those of us who wake up early, commute long hours, and pour everything we have into building a life in this country. We are doing our part. But we are not being rewarded.

There are two Jamaicas operating side by side. One Jamaica is building high-rise apartments, throwing cocktail receptions, attending international conferences, and living behind gates. The other Jamaica is standing in long lines at tax offices, watching rent increase every year, struggling to find a second job, and praying not to get sick. We see it. We feel it. And we are tired of pretending like everything is fine.

Yes, the Government has achieved some things. Fiscal discipline matters. Infrastructure upgrades are important. But a country cannot be judged only by how it looks on paper. A Government cannot call itself successful while so many of its citizens are barely surviving. Growth must be measured by how the people are living. Development must be felt in the homes of the ordinary man. Anything else is a performance.

We do not want handouts. We want fairness. We want transparency. We want public services that work. We want leaders who speak the truth and accept criticism without hiding behind press releases and pre-written talking points. We want housing solutions that match our income levels. We want hospitals that heal and not humiliate. We want a Jamaica where people with ambition can thrive, not just survive. We want leaders who do not just manage money well, but manage the people’s lives with care, dignity, and foresight.

We are not ungrateful. We are not lazy. But we are tired. And it is time someone said so without fear.

I write this letter anonymously because I work in the public sector, and it is my belief that one’s political affiliation can determine promotion, contract renewal, peace of mind, and even safety. But silence cannot continue. If those in power are unwilling to listen to the quiet voices, then the quiet voices must begin to speak louder.

To every young Jamaican reading this — you are not crazy. You are not alone. You are not imagining the pressure. You are not wrong for feeling that something is deeply broken. And you are not wrong for demanding more.

To the Government: Stop congratulating yourself in rooms filled with the same few faces. Come outside and listen. You may be doing well on the international stage, but until the people of this country begin to live well, you have not yet succeeded.

A Concerned Young Jamaican