Distinguished guests,
Ladies and gentlemen,
Good morning.
Violence in The Bahamas, and indeed across the Caribbean, is a profound public health challenge. This is not just a matter of crime and punishment—it is a crisis that touches every part of our society, from the safety of our streets to the stability of our families, and even the confidence of our economy.
Violence diminishes our collective potential, erodes our communities, and casts a long shadow over future generations.
In The Bahamas, we are painfully familiar with the cost of violence. Every year, hundreds of children endure abuse—583 last year alone—a figure that continues to climb. Gender-based violence remains a blight on our nation, with one in four Bahamian women experiencing physical or sexual violence in their lifetimes.
Homicides, suicides, and violent assaults remain stubbornly high, and while we have seen progress in some areas, the persistence of these trends reminds us that much work remains.
This reality is not unique to The Bahamas; it is shared by our Caribbean neighbors. Our region, regrettably, bears one of the highest homicide rates in the world, with rates that are four times the global average.
Firearms play an outsized role in this tragedy, accounting for nearly 70% of homicides in some nations. These statistics paint a grim picture, but we must remember they are not just numbers.
They represent lost lives, shattered families, and the erosion of peace in communities across our islands.
What makes this crisis particularly urgent is the way violence spreads like a disease. It thrives on neglect, festers in inequality, and takes root where there is hopelessness.
Studies show that children exposed to violence, whether at home, in schools, or in their communities, are more likely to repeat those patterns as they grow older.
A child who suffers abuse or witnesses violence in their formative years often carries those scars into adulthood, creating a cycle that perpetuates the very conditions we seek to overcome.
We must also acknowledge the structural factors at play. Nearly 60% of Bahamian households are fatherless, a reality that places enormous pressure on single parents and leaves many children without the guidance and support they need.
In communities where opportunities are scarce, the lure of criminal activity and gang culture becomes a dangerous alternative.
These are not individual failures—they are symptoms of a system that has not yet addressed the underlying causes of violence.
As leaders, we have a responsibility to confront these realities with clarity and conviction. Violence is not inevitable. It is not ingrained in our culture or our identity. But it will require a fundamental shift in how we approach the problem.
Viewing violence as a public health issue allows us to prioritize prevention, address the root causes, and develop policies grounded in data and evidence.
This perspective also calls for collaboration across every sector of society. Violence is not just a matter for the police or the courts; it impacts our health systems, our education systems, and our economic prospects. It demands an integrated response, bringing together government agencies, community leaders, and international partners to address its many dimensions.
For The Bahamas, this means strengthening our social safety nets, expanding mental health services, and investing in education and job creation to provide alternatives to crime. It also means addressing the culture of silence that too often protects perpetrators and isolates victims. In a nation as small and as closely knit as ours, we cannot afford to turn a blind eye.
Our Caribbean family, through CARICOM, must also move with greater urgency and unity to tackle this shared challenge. Regional collaboration on issues like firearms trafficking, youth engagement, and rehabilitation is essential if we are to make meaningful progress. The task ahead is not easy, but it is necessary.
Violence is not an inescapable part of our identity. It is a challenge to be confronted, a crisis to be addressed, and a cycle to be broken.
A hurt child grows into an adult carrying the weight of unresolved pain. I remember hearing a story about a boy who grew up in a home where arguments were as common as the sunrise.
He watched his parents fight, his father’s anger spilling over into his words and his fists. The boy tried to hide in the shadows, but the echoes of violence followed him everywhere. At school, he lashed out at others. As a teenager, he turned to the streets, looking for an escape. By the time he became a man, the boy was gone, replaced by anger he didn’t know how to control.
This story is not unique. It plays out in different forms across our country and our region, creating adults who are often broken long before they’ve even had a chance to build a life.
Violence doesn’t begin in adulthood—it is seeded in childhood. When a child is hurt—physically, emotionally, or psychologically—and left to navigate that pain alone, it doesn’t go away. It festers. And too often, it grows into cycles of harm that spread to others.
In The Bahamas, we see this truth reflected in heartbreaking statistics. Over 583 children are reported as victims of abuse every year, and this number continues to rise.
For every reported case, we know there are many others that go unspoken—hidden behind closed doors, in families that fear the stigma of speaking out or are too entangled in their own struggles to seek help. Each of these children is carrying trauma that they don’t know how to process, and without intervention, that trauma often turns inward or outward in dangerous ways.
The experiences of childhood shape the adults we become.
A child who grows up in fear will often see the world as a place of conflict. A child who is never taught to manage anger will lash out when they feel threatened or powerless. A child who is never loved unconditionally may struggle to love themselves or others. And when these children grow up, the pain they carry doesn’t disappear—it transforms into behaviors that perpetuate the violence they once endured.
This cycle of pain is not inevitable, but it is persistent. In The Bahamas, nearly 60% of households are fatherless. Too many of our children grow up without the stability and guidance they need.
Single mothers work tirelessly to provide for their families, but the absence of consistent support places an enormous strain on both parent and child. Without role models to teach conflict resolution, discipline, and emotional balance, many children turn to their peers, or worse, to the streets, for guidance.
I have spoken to teachers who see this every day. A child comes to school angry, distracted, and unengaged. When the teacher tries to discipline them, the child reacts with hostility, not because they are inherently bad but because they have never learned another way.
That child might drop out of school, find themselves drawn into gang culture, or seek acceptance in dangerous places. By the time we see them in courtrooms or headlines, the seeds of their story were planted long ago.
But the story doesn’t have to end there. I believe in the power of intervention and support. When we provide children with the tools to heal, we can change their trajectory.
This means more than just punitive measures—it requires meaningful investment in their well-being. My administration is committed to expanding mental health services in schools, creating safe spaces where children can express their emotions and learn to manage them.
We are supporting mentorship programs to connect vulnerable youth with adults who can guide them. And we are working to strengthen family structures, because a stable home is one of the most powerful tools in preventing violence.
There is a saying that resonates deeply with me: “It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” Every policy we implement, every program we fund, and every resource we allocate must reflect this truth. If we truly want to tackle violence in our country, we must start with our children. We must listen to their pain, respond to their needs, and show them that their future is not defined by their past.
A hurting child doesn’t have to become a dangerous adult. With the right support, that child can become a leader, a peacemaker, a force for good in their community.
But it takes all of us—parents, teachers, communities, and government—to make that possible. Let us commit to doing this work, for the sake of every child and for the future of our nation.
Colleagues,
When I reflect on what it takes to reduce violence in our country, I think about the stories of those who have suffered in silence. Like the mother who wanted to protect her children but didn’t know where to turn. Or the young man, driven by pain and anger, who needed guidance but found none.
These are the lives that demand our attention, and they are the lives the Protection Against Violence Bill, 2023 was created to support.
This Bill represents a defining step forward for The Bahamas. It establishes a comprehensive framework to protect victims of violence while addressing the systemic issues that allow violence to persist. At the core of this legislation is the belief that every person deserves safety, dignity, and the opportunity to heal. It brings together key resources and ensures that victims no longer navigate their journeys alone.
The establishment of the Protection Against Violence Commission marks a turning point in how we address this issue. This Commission will coordinate agencies, allocate funding, and provide technical support to ensure a unified national response to violence.
It will connect health care providers, law enforcement, and community organizations to deliver timely and effective assistance. This is how we turn fragmented efforts into a cohesive strategy, creating a safety net that no victim slips through.
The Bill also sets a clear example of our commitment to meeting international obligations. By aligning with frameworks like the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) and the Convention of Belem do Para, we are demonstrating leadership in combating violence. These standards guide us in implementing policies that protect victims and hold perpetrators accountable.
The legislation also provides victims with access to critical services such as safe housing, psychological support, legal aid, and medical care. These supports are not just about survival—they are about recovery and empowerment.
Victims must have the tools to rebuild their lives, and this Bill ensures that those tools are available.
One of the most significant features of this legislation is the creation of a Fatality Review Team, which will examine cases where violence has resulted in death. By learning from these tragedies, we can develop targeted interventions to prevent them from happening again. This is an essential part of addressing femicide and ensuring that justice is served for victims and their families.
Reducing violence requires more than policies—it requires action that touches lives.
Through the Protection Against Violence Bill, 2023, we are laying the foundation for a safer and more compassionate Bahamas. But laws alone are not enough.
We must bring them to life through sustained commitment, community engagement, and the belief that change is possible.
This is how we honor the stories of those who have suffered and how we write a new story for the future of our nation—one where safety and dignity are not privileges but rights that every Bahamian can count on.
As we begin this forum, I want to leave you with a simple truth: the solution to the crisis of violence begins right here, in this room, with all of us.
Each one of us has the power to confront the realities of violence—not by turning away, but by facing it together. The solutions we seek are not abstract or distant; they are within our grasp if we have the courage to act. The policies we craft, the programs we implement, and the choices we make as leaders, advocates, and community members all shape the path forward.
But to truly address this issue, we must ask ourselves the hard questions: How do we, as a nation, perpetuate cycles of violence through neglect, silence, or indifference? What more can we do to protect the most vulnerable among us? Are we prepared to make the sacrifices necessary to build a society where violence has no place?
Violence does not happen in a vacuum. It is born of the choices we make collectively—the systems we create, the norms we tolerate, and the care we give or withhold. And because it stems from us, the power to stop it also lies within us. It begins with acknowledging the pain in our communities and committing to healing it.
The work ahead is not easy. It demands bold leadership, honest dialogue, and a shared commitment to change. But the fact that we are here, in this room, engaging with this issue, tells me that we are ready to confront it together.
I want to thank the Minister of Health and Wellness and his team for leading the charge and creating this space for reflection, learning, and action.
You have brought us together not just to talk about violence but to take meaningful steps toward ending it.
Thank You.
