If given a choice between capitalism and communism, the answer is clear. Capitalism offers freedom—freedom to choose what to eat, where to live, what to wear, where to study, and how to earn a living. That freedom matters.
But supporting capitalism does not mean ignoring its excesses.
There is a version of capitalism that goes too far. A version that no longer creates opportunity, but instead concentrates wealth, pushes people aside, and strips away dignity. That is what can only be described as unchecked or “wild” capitalism—and its effects are increasingly visible in Curaçao.
Our island carries a heavy historical burden. Centuries of slavery, colonialism, discrimination, and social inequality have left deep structural scars. These conditions create fertile ground for a system where economic power can easily become unbalanced, where those with resources gain more, and those without are left behind.
Today, many Curaçaoans feel that reality.
Wages remain low, while the cost of living continues to rise sharply. Basic goods in supermarkets have become expensive to the point where many families struggle to keep up. At the same time, prime land and beaches are increasingly oriented toward tourism development, often leaving locals feeling like outsiders in their own country.
Tourism is important. Investment is necessary. But when economic growth primarily benefits a select few, while the majority faces growing financial pressure, something is out of balance.
This imbalance is not just economic—it is social.
When people feel excluded from opportunity, when they see their cost of living rise while their income stagnates, frustration grows. When public resources and national assets appear to serve external interests more than local communities, trust erodes. And where oversight is weak, corruption finds space to grow.
Even well-intentioned citizens—those who volunteer, who contribute, who try to build something for their country—can find themselves exploited in such an environment.
The situation becomes even more concerning when external pressures are added. Global instability, such as ongoing conflict in the Middle East, continues to drive up energy and transport costs. For a small, import-dependent island like Curaçao, these shocks are not abstract—they translate directly into higher prices at the pump, at the supermarket, and on monthly utility bills.
And it is the average citizen who feels it the most.
This is not a call to abandon capitalism. It is a call to correct it.
Curaçao does not need less economic activity—it needs better balance. A system where growth is matched with protection. Where investment is accompanied by safeguards for local communities. Where wages reflect the real cost of living. Where essential goods remain accessible. Where development includes—not excludes—the people of this island.
Capitalism should create opportunity, not inequality.
If left unchecked, however, it risks becoming exactly what many now fear: a system that benefits a few, while the majority pays the price.
Curaçao still has a choice. The question is whether it will act in time.