It’s starting to look like a pattern: another day, another sensational headline, another investigation that leads absolutely nowhere.

Since 2014, the opposition in Antigua and Barbuda has lobbed accusation after accusation at Prime Minister Gaston Browne and his administration—each one designed to stick in the public imagination, regardless of evidence or eventual outcome. Corruption claims, land deals, foreign banking conspiracies, yacht drama, and now the Alfa Nero debacle. But after more than a decade of political grenades, what do they have to show for it?

Nothing. Not one claim has been proven in a court of law. Not one conviction. Not one single legal proceeding that withstood serious scrutiny.

Most recently, a U.S. federal court threw out a series of subpoenas aimed at Browne, his family, and key Antiguan institutions, calling them legally deficient. This case—driven by the daughter of a sanctioned Russian oligarch—was painted by some as the smoking gun that would finally “take down” the Browne government. Yet once again, it fizzled under judicial review. The court not only dismissed the subpoenas but ordered all related material destroyed, vindicating the Antiguan officials in emphatic terms.

So where does that leave us?

Frankly, in a political holding pattern where one side governs and the other side gossips. But that’s not democracy—it’s dysfunction.

An Opposition Without Options?

We’re heading into another election cycle, and Antigua and Barbuda deserves more than opposition operatives fishing in the same murky waters of accusation and innuendo. If the last decade has proven anything, it’s that the politics of scandal without substance has a short shelf life. The electorate is catching on.

You can’t keep yelling “corruption!” if the evidence never lands. You can’t keep shouting “dictatorship!” if the institutions—courts, civil society, even the press—remain open and active. Eventually, the cry-wolf strategy stops being annoying and starts becoming insulting.

Here’s a reality check: the opposition needs to reinvent itself, fast.

Time for a Real Slate—and a Real Plan

What voters want now is not political theatre. They want a credible alternative. And that starts with new faces and new thinking.

Where are the professionals, the climate scientists, the innovators? Where are the youth voices who actually understand the digital economy or sustainable agriculture? Antigua and Barbuda is not the same country it was in 2004. The electorate is younger, more educated, and more globally connected. They want leadership that speaks their language, not the recycled talking points of yesteryear.

And most importantly, they want policy.

They want to see how the next government—if there is to be one—will tackle:

The rising cost of living and inflation resilience.

Water infrastructure and climate change adaptation.

Real youth employment pipelines, not just job fairs.

A vision for renewable energy, ocean-based industries, and food sovereignty.

Concrete steps for strengthening institutions, not just shouting “transparency” into a void.

Instead, we’ve been fed a steady diet of character assassinations, conspiracy theories, and cynical attempts to smear anyone who dares to get things done.

It’s lazy politics, and it’s losing its grip.

A Final Word

This is a pivotal moment for Antigua and Barbuda. The country is not without challenges—but it is also not without opportunity. If the opposition wants to be taken seriously, it needs to stop playing prosecutor without a case and start acting like a government-in-waiting.

Bring a real slate of candidates. Publish a real platform. Put forward a plan that goes beyond hurling stones from the sidelines.

Because if your only plan is to outlast Gaston Browne by throwing enough mud in his direction, history—and voters—will remember you not as challengers, but as distractions.

And in the age of global competition, digital transformation, and climate urgency, distractions are a luxury we can no longer afford.