Amidst the post-euphoria of the CARICOM summit in Saint Lucia, mixed with our local Carnival festivities and the accompanying inevitable social media bacchanal, other developments of equal significance were quietly unfolding. These events also warrant our attention, thoughtful reflection and public discussion.
In our society, it has become increasingly challenging to remain informed about the numerous events that influence our collective life. Social media algorithms often prioritise content that amplifies divisiveness, outrage and controversy over moments worthy of celebration or thoughtful reflection. As media professionals frequently remind us, good news rarely sells.
Furthermore, the persistent social, political and economic challenges confronting our societies often consume so much of our advocacy that we sometimes overlook moments that deserve recognition. This is not to suggest that we should devote less attention to the pressing issues affecting our people. In fact, sustained attention to these matters may be insufficient. But two things can be true simultaneously in our tale of two cities. We can confront the cost-of-living crisis while also recognising meaningful steps in our unfinished journey towards decolonisation and nation-building.
One such moment came with the Eastern Caribbean Central Bank’s unveiling of the new EC banknotes. Governor Timothy N. J. Antoine explained that the redesign was in response to “the people calling for our currency to honour our own heroes, nation builders and persons whose lives and achievements have enriched our countries and strengthened our region”. Recognising that the currency belongs to the people of the Eastern Caribbean Currency Union, the Monetary Council invited the public to help shape “this new chapter in our shared history”.
The result is a new family of banknotes bearing the likenesses of distinguished sons and daughters from across the Eastern Caribbean, replacing the image of the British monarch that has occupied our currency for generations. It is a moment for decolonisation, independence and sovereignty.
For some, this change may seem purely symbolic. Some will argue that changing the faces on our currency does little to lower food prices, increase wages or resolve the economic anxieties confronting households across the region. Others may contend that the reform is long overdue and therefore unworthy of celebration, or that governments should not be applauded for actions that should have occurred decades ago.
However, these responses oversimplify a discussion that is inherently more complex.
They present a false binary, suggesting that societies must first eliminate every economic hardship before undertaking the work of decolonising the symbols that shape their national consciousness. We can walk and chew gum. We have never been single-issue countries. Such neoliberal reasoning assumes that economic management is the sole responsibility of the modern state and that questions of identity, memory and self-confidence are somehow secondary because they cannot be immediately measured in dollars and cents.
Nations are sustained by more than balanced budgets; they are also upheld by stories, symbols, and institutions that enable individuals to see themselves reflected in the societies they have shaped. Errol Barrow’s enduring question, “What is your mirror image?” remains as relevant today as it was during Barbados’ independence movement.
In many respects, this is precisely what the Eastern Caribbean Central Bank has invited us to consider.
The currency we use each day to purchase groceries, repay loans, save for our futures or invest in our children’s education should tell our own story. It should not imply, even unintentionally, that our legitimacy is validated solely by the continued presence of the British Crown. Instead, it should reflect the people whose labour, sacrifice and leadership established the societies and monetary union we now benefit from.
When a child in Soufriere, Kingstown, Grand Anse, or Basseterre picks up an EC banknote, they should experience more than a financial instrument. They should be reminded that independent peoples possess the confidence to honour their own heroes, celebrate their own achievements and define the symbols through which future generations understand themselves. They should also be aware of our capacity to create our own symbols, heroes, heroines and institutions.
The inclusion of figures such as Sir John Compton, Dame Eugenia Charles and Kirani James represents more than an artistic redesign. It is a purposeful affirmation that excellence within the Eastern Caribbean deserves public reverence. This initiative invites young people to imagine themselves not as spectators in someone else’s history but as contributors to their own, in an independent state rather than a colony. Sir Derek Walcott aptly observed, “At last, these islands are no longer being written about, they are writing themselves.”
I often reflect on the words of Trinidadian novelist Earl Lovelace in The Dragon Can’t Dance, where he asks: “How come everything we do we have to be appealing to somebody else… Is like we ain’t have no self. I mean we have a self but is for somebody else. We is people… for we own self.” His observation continues to capture one of the enduring psychological legacies of colonialism: the tendency to seek external validation before recognising our own worth.
There are still those who remain unconvinced, dismissing these developments as little more than symbolism and traditions. Yet symbols have always mattered. They shape how societies understand themselves, the stories they pass to future generations, and the confidence with which they engage the wider world.
Consider the impact when a person’s name is repeatedly mispronounced or substituted with another. Although nothing materially changes, something deeper is affected because names carry identity and meaning. Likewise, many Caribbean people instinctively recoil when Saint Lucia is confused with another country or when the Eastern Caribbean is treated as culturally indistinguishable from the wider Caribbean. These reactions arise precisely because symbols matter. They communicate who we are, how we wish to be known and what we believe is worthy of remembrance.
Our currency serves a similar purpose. It tells a story about whose achievements deserve permanence within our collective memory. A society that neglects its own symbols risks allowing others to define its history, its heroes and ultimately its sense of self.
However, the Eastern Caribbean Central Bank’s initiative must not end with the redesign of banknotes. For this to represent a true moment of decolonisation, it must be supported by a sustained programme of public education.
Many of us know Sir John Compton as the Father of Independence, Dame Eugenia Charles as the “Iron Lady of the Caribbean”, or Sir Arthur Lewis as our Nobel Laureate in Economics. Yet how many of us truly understand the lives they lived, the struggles they endured, the decisions they made or the lessons they leave behind? How much do we know about the remarkable individuals representing our neighbouring islands?
This moment should inspire investment in biographies, documentaries, school curricula, public lectures, museums, exhibitions, community conversations, murals, children’s books and digital storytelling. These banknotes ought to function as gateways to understanding the shared history of the Eastern Caribbean, rather than serving solely as instruments of commercial exchange.
History consistently demonstrates that societies that fail to understand their past are often condemned to repeat it. These new notes should therefore educate as much as they circulate.
More importantly, this reform should act as a catalyst for a broader dialogue about completing our unfinished decolonisation project. We should continue to identify those colonial vestiges that no longer reflect who we are, while carefully preserving them in museums, where future generations can critically engage with that history rather than erase it.
This dialogue must inevitably encompass constitutional reform, including the continued presence of the British monarch’s representative within many of our political systems. National Reparations Commissions, Constitutional Reform Commissions and other public bodies should continue examining not only the structural legacies of colonialism but also its enduring symbolism, while advancing a vision of indigenisation that reflects the confidence, maturity and aspirations of independent Caribbean societies. But these stories must also be shared in our byways, highways, courts, classrooms, playgrounds and other public spaces.
Errol Barrow encouraged us to avoid loitering on colonial premises. The Eastern Caribbean Central Bank has taken a significant step in this direction. While this is not the beginning or the end of the journey, it represents a meaningful milestone.
For this achievement, the Bank merits our commendation. More importantly, it is now the responsibility of governments, educators, artists, historians, constitutional reformers and ordinary citizens to continue ensuring that the symbols of our societies reflect the confidence of the people we are becoming, rather than the structures of our colonial past.
Rahym R. Augustin‑Joseph, the 2024 Rhodes Scholar for the Commonwealth Caribbean and a two‑time valedictorian, is currently pursuing a Master of Public Policy at the Blavatnik School of Government, University of Oxford. He holds two First Class Honours degrees from the UWI Cave Hill Campus in Political Science and Law. An award‑winning debater, public speaker, youth leader, and advocate, Rahym is passionate about law, politics, and governance, and is committed to shaping the future of Saint Lucia and the wider Caribbean.
