As the Ministry of Housing’s much vaunted International Building Expo opens tomorrow evening, young professional Shereeza Sahid might be among those suffering post-traumatic stress disorder as well as buyer’s remorse. Ms Sahid is one of some two dozen people who lost millions of dollars when contractor Omar Malik disappeared leaving their homes not only unfinished, but in many cases substandard even where work had been completed.
One only has to speak to the average Guyanese to recognise that there are few ambitions more deeply held in this country than owning a home. It has been passed down from our forebears, none of whom owned anything when they came here, that the acquisition of a house lot and the construction of a dwelling, however modest to begin with, equals dignity, progress and stability. Homeownership is entrenched in our psyche and therefore is a promise on which many a political campaign has been run. The current government prides itself on its housing drive, with President Irfaan Ali saying in September last year, “Over the next five years we will bring more families closer to the dream of homeownership, because owning your own home is not a luxury; it is a foundation of dignity and security…”
Unfortunately, at the time that statement was made, Ms Sahid had already handed over some $13 million she will never see again. Though she owns the land, she still has no home. It is especially tragic that in a country now celebrated as the world’s fastest-growing economy, the dream of homeownership has become fertile ground for fraud, financial ruin and institutional disappointment.
The scandal involving businessman Mr Malik and his company DreamVu Homes, said to be based in Canada, is a sobering reflection of how vulnerable citizens can become when rapid national expansion outpaces oversight and accountability. Ms Sahid had met Mr Malik at the building expo in 2022 and because of that she never doubted his credibility. DreamVu was said to be involved in the construction of modern contemporary homes, and working on a number of the government’s young professional homes as well as a luxury gated community. Ms Sahid went through formal procedures with the Ministry of Housing and the New Building Society. Documents were signed, fees paid, loans approved and tranches released.
For its part, the Ministry of Housing sought to defend its handling of the issue via a statement on June 12 that pointed to investigations, public notices, police reports and the involvement of international agencies such as Interpol, the FBI and Caricom Impacs. The ministry insisted that due diligence was exercised and that efforts to locate Malik began long before the matter entered wider public discussion.
Those efforts may well be genuine. Yet the uncomfortable reality remains that more than 20 individuals/families entrusted millions of dollars to a contractor operating within a housing ecosystem closely associated with state programmes and oversight. Citizens are therefore entitled to ask difficult questions.
What level of scrutiny is applied before contractors are allowed to market themselves in connection with housing initiatives? What safeguards exist before millions in mortgage financing are released? What mechanisms protect first-time homeowners who often have little experience navigating contracts, construction standards and financing arrangements? And most importantly, what recourse exists when those systems fail? These are not political questions. They are governance questions.
The temptation, as always, will be to reduce the issue to the actions of one allegedly dishonest individual. These problems did not begin yesterday. For years there have been repeated reports of fake house-lot schemes, forged allocation documents, fraudulent middlemen and unauthorised payments. The Central Housing and Planning Authority itself has repeatedly warned citizens against scammers exploiting desperation for land and housing.
Such fraud persists because it feeds on the deeper national perception that access to opportunity often depends not solely on procedure, but on connections, influence and shortcuts. Scammers succeed because too many citizens believe that there are insiders who can move underneath the red tape that causes sluggishness in the official channels. That perception is corrosive as it weakens public confidence in institutions.
Ms Sahid’s tale of woe, as well as that of a 32-year-old man who chose to remain anonymous and was forced to work on his home himself, is painful not simply because of the money lost, but because of what the loss represents. This duo, and the others staring despondently at unfinished homes, are not reckless speculators chasing luxury developments. They are young professionals, public servants and working people attempting to secure that basic ambition; a home of their own. And that is precisely why this case demands more than sympathy. It demands serious national reflection.
The tragedy here is not simply the unfinished homes scattered across developing communities. It is the emotional and financial burden now carried by ordinary people who acted in good faith. They have to continue paying mortgages on incomplete structures, sacrificing years of financial stability merely to salvage what should have been secure investments.
It goes without saying that a successful housing programme is not measured only by the number of lots distributed or houses announced, but also by the confidence citizens have in the fairness, transparency and security of the process.
The government’s responsibility has to extend beyond pursuing fugitives after the damage has already been done. It must also ensure stronger vetting of contractors, more transparent monitoring systems, clearer protections for homeowners and quicker intervention when warning signs emerge. Equally important, financial institutions and regulatory bodies must examine whether existing safeguards adequately protect inexperienced borrowers entering major construction agreements.
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