Dear Editor,
Now that the Calvin Brutus matter has eased away from national attention, there is a stray thought that slipped through the cracks. It is worth sharing so that those overseeing the banking sector, and the bankers themselves, may be inspired to take another look at their business practices, and decide how much of an overhaul has become mandatory. In addition, regular people should take note and not comply with objections too serenely when they are presented with one bureaucratic roadblock after another when trying to get their little mom and pop business done.
Mr. Brutus’s business is his business, let that be said, regardless of his current difficulties. But when branches of the local banking sector are involved in their public practices, then it is no longer private business, but of national interest. Commercial banks are subject to rules and regulations, which apply to all customers, with the occasional departure, more the exercise of stingy discretion rather than that of steady practice. The facts that have seeped out into the public quarters are that the Assistant Commissioner of Police is the owner, in part or in full, of several bank accounts with reportedly hundreds of millions of dollars on deposit. It would take a significant number of transactions (visits, deposits, and so forth) to arrive at the totals associated with Mr. Brutus et al. More to the point, it would consume a considerable amount of time for Mr. Brutus or his authorized proxies to execute deposits (and other banking business) to get to that level of account balances, if the regulatory limits were adhered to most of the time, if not all the time. How did he get that done, given his normal police duties? How did the bank(s) accommodate him to permit his business express, or special handling? What standards were waived, if any? Did the banks involved look the other way, pretend that all was in order? Or did Mr. Brutus conduct his business in such a manner that his account would not be ‘red flagged’ for any suspicious transaction activities?
My interest in this is manifold, and should reflect those of the wider Guyanese public. The poor man one, that is. The little guys, and we all know who they are, are read the letter of the law when their business is marginally out of the norm. In other words, they must follow the rules, toe the line, or get out of the line. One comma out of place, or one dollar above the regulatory limits, and they could be out of luck and out of one of those big, prosperous local banks. How is it that Guyanese who could barely scrape together a few dollars, and make it in one piece to their bank, are usually not treated to the institutional hospitality that seems to have been extended to the embattled Assistant Commissioner of Police? There is appreciation that rank has its privileges, and who knows whom goes a long way in Guyana. To his credit, Mr. Brutus would have known a number of big people in big places (including banks) in Guyana. So there is this question that would not let go. Who did he know and, more importantly, who in the banks were still more delighted to know him? Who, in those proudly conservative bastions of impeccable finance comportment, gave possibly special consideration to his profitable business? It was a volume of business, which must be said does speak its own language. And, of course, has its own tribe of speakers.
With the above in mind, the small man and woman in Guyana suffers from a great disadvantage in being unconnected to banking spark plugs (human ones) and unattached to any impressive sums of cash. So there is one last question that comes naturally. How is it that the rules are rigidly held to when it is the man without a suit and any standing, or a woman without a $50,000 handbag, that is run through barbwire to get some banking business done that involves a few thousand dollars only, and not millions? Some may wish for this to remain under the rug. I prefer the rooftop. And the microscope.
Sincerely,
GHK Lall
