Michael Pintard is an agent of GBPA: The Fall of the Magic City’s False Prophets

For decades, a seductive whisper echoed through the corridors of buildings and the manicured roundabouts of Freeport: “You are not like the rest of them.” This wasn’t just local pride; it was a calculated psychological operation. The Grand Bahama Port Authority (GBPA), aided by a succession of political enablers, successfully brainwashed generations of residents into believing they lived in a sovereign fiefdom—a country within a country—where the rules of Nassau didn’t apply and the “Port” was the only provider, thus the term “FNM Country”.

But as the sun sets on the recent tribunal findings, that so-called “golden wrap”—the illusion of prosperity and privilege—has been set ablaze. The smoke reveals a devastating reality: while the people were told they were special, they were actually being fleeced. And at the centre of this modern tragedy stands Michael Pintard, the Member of Parliament for Marco City, whose role has shifted from representative of the people to the primary cheerleader for a status quo that has failed them.

The GBPA helped to shape the idea in Freeport that “Nassau” was a rival, an outside force allegedly aiming to control the “Magic City.” This belief contributed to strong support for the Port’s corporate interests and served as a buffer against central government oversight.

For years, residents walked past crumbling infrastructure and a slow economy. Still, they believed the Hawksbill Creek Agreement made them untouchable—like citizens with special immunity. This was true brainwashing—victims falling in love with those who caused their decline. They were told they didn’t need Nassau. Yet their so-called “private” government allegedly funnelled wealth into French bank accounts, while the city’s neglected buildings bleached in the sun.

Michael Pintard’s political career in Marco City is now being viewed through a much harsher lens. The revelation of the $5 million “love offering” allegation and his subsequent, almost reflexive defence of the GBPA suggests a pattern of manipulation that goes beyond mere policy disagreement.

When the tribunal’s cover was blown, revealing that the GBPA had been systematically avoiding its financial obligations to the Bahamian people, Pintard’s response was telling. His mantra—”no one can buy my silence”—is the classic defence of a man whose proximity to power is being questioned. If his silence isn’t for sale, why has his voice been so loud in defence of the very entity the courts just exposed?

Pintard has bragged that “whether he wins or loses, he will be just fine.” This is the most honest thing he has ever said. It is the ultimate “tell” of a politician who is not in the trenches with his constituents. While the small business owner in Freeport struggles with stagnant growth and crumbling roads, Pintard’s safety net is woven from the same threads as the Port’s elite. He isn’t working for the people of Marco City; he is working to preserve the system that ensures his personal “fine-ness.”

The desperation is now palpable. The GBPA is deploying prominent residents like Joseph Darville to act as human shields—public spokespersons who absorb criticism to protect leadership—while attempting to regain control of a narrative that has already slipped from their grasp. This isn’t community engagement; it’s a PR fire drill, a frantic attempt to control public opinion. They are trying to put out a forest fire—a widespread crisis—with a garden hose, an inadequate effort.

The recent poll showing the FNM losing its grip on Marco City is a seismic shift—a major political change—in Bahamian politics. Since the days of Cecil Wallace-Whitfield, the FNM held Grand Bahama as its “Fortress”—its stronghold. That fortress is now a ruin. The “neck and neck” race between Pintard and the PLP’s Eddie Whan isn’t just a polling fluke; it’s a liberation movement, a drive for political change.

Freeport is not a separate country. It is a Bahamian city that deserves a representative who doesn’t cheer for its creditors. The “Magic City” can be magical—can prosper and thrive—again, but only after the false prophets are removed and the “love offerings,” or questionable gifts, are replaced by genuine accountability. The era of being “fine” while the people suffer is over.

Real, honest Grand Bahamians, especially Freeport residents and businesses, must rise up and express their objections and displeasure to the GBPA and insist that those who are really interested in their future, without the pilferage, should lead them. Pintard has sold his soul to the Grand Bahama Port Authority, nothing less.