Guyana Global Charms the World

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June 8th 2025 — The humid air of Georgetown clung to everything, a familiar embrace of salt and blooming frangipani. But beneath the city’s colonial charm and the rising hum of an emergent oil economy, a different kind of pressure was building. Not from the deep offshore wells, but from the encroaching Atlantic, its waves lapping ever closer to the historic seawalls that had long been the city’s stoic guardians. Guyana, a land of ancient rainforests and newfound black gold, found itself at a pivotal crossroads, its future dependent on a delicate balance between extracting wealth and preserving life.

Minister Vickram Bharrat, his office overlooking the bustling Stabroek Market and beyond, the vast expanse of the Guyanese hinterland on an illuminated map, knew this balance intimately. His mission transcended the immediate energy boom; it reached for a future where Guyana was not just a resource exporter, but a global leader in sustainable climate action. He envisioned a Guyana fortified against rising seas, its communities resilient, its energy grid clean. The political will was unequivocally there, a powerful current flowing through the corridors of power. The formidable challenge, however, lay in the absence of resources for such a monumental, costly transition.

We are open to engagement,” Minister Bharrat had told S&P Global, his words echoing in the international press. “We want Guyana to be the first certified country to sell credits to the airline industry.” It was an audacious goal, but Bharrat saw the clear path. 

Guyana’s pristine rainforests, covering over 80% of its landmass, were the lungs of the planet, an invaluable carbon sink. Protecting them was not just an environmental imperative; it was an economic lifeline, a tangible asset that could finance the very future of the nation.

Benefiting from the nascent oil production, were far from sufficient to fund such comprehensive adaptation and mitigation efforts. This was where carbon credits, earned from protecting those vast, carbon-rich forests, became paramount to Guyana’s strategy. They were not merely a funding mechanism; they were the very bedrock of its climate change management and energy transition.

News of Guyana’s proactive stance reached Sarah Jenkins, Head of Environmental Finance at AeroGreen Alliance, a consortium of major global airlines committed to reducing their carbon footprint. Sarah, a pragmatist with a deep understanding of nascent carbon markets, saw Guyana as a beacon of potential. Many countries offered land for carbon projects, but few offered the scale, the political stability, and the expressed government-level ambition of Guyana.

The flight touched down at Cheddi Jagan International, the humid air instantly The need was stark. Every year, flash floods became more frequent, inundating coastal communities, disrupting livelihoods. Farmers watched helplessly as their crops succumbed to saltwater intrusion. The existing infrastructure, though constantly being improved, simply wasn’t designed to withstand the relentless assault of a changing climate. Building higher seawalls, investing in resilient agricultural practices, developing a robust renewable energy sector – these were not luxuries, but existential necessities.  The next day, seated across from Minister Bharrat in his tastefully appointed office, Sarah felt the weight of the opportunity. The Minister, flanked by technical advisors from the Guyana Forestry Commission, laid out their vision with clarity and passion.  “Our forest cover is unparalleled,” he began, a pointer gesturing to a satellite image on a large screen displaying the unbroken canopy. “We have established robust monitoring and verification systems, building on years of REDD+ readiness. We are not just selling credits; we are offering a partnership in preserving a global heritage, and in return, gaining the resources to build a resilient, sustainable Guyana.” Sarah listened intently, her mind running through the metrics. 

The sheer volume of sequestered carbon in Guyana’s forests was staggering. The potential for high-integrity, verifiable credits was immense. But it wasn’t just about the numbers. It was about trust, about long-term commitment. “Minister,” she responded, “the potential is truly extraordinary. Our members are looking for authentic, verifiable offsets, and the airline industry needs reliable, long-term supply as we chart our path to net-zero.”

rgetown, a new chapter in global climate finance was beginning to unfold, written in the vibrant green of its forests and the unwavering resolve of its people.

e humid air of Georgetown clung to everything, a familiar embrace of salt and blooming frangipani. But beneath the city’s colonial charm and the rising hum of an emergent oil economy, a different kind of pressure was building. Not from the deep offshore wells, but from the encroaching Atlantic, its waves lapping ever closer to the historic seawalls that had long been the city’s stoic pride.

Later that afternoon, Sarah visited a nascent solar farm project on the outskirts of Georgetown, partially funded by a pilot carbon credit scheme. She spoke with Maria, a local community leader, who explained how the reliable, clean power had transformed lives, enabling small businesses to thrive, and providing much-needed light for children’s evening studies. Maria spoke of the floods, too, of the fear of losing everything, and how the hope of new, higher seawalls and better drainage, funded by these global partnerships, kept their spirit alive.  As the sun set over the Demerara River, painting the sky in fiery hues, Sarah reflected on her visit. Guyana was more than just a carbon sink; it was a testament to political will confronting overwhelming resource constraints. Minister Bharrat’s ambition to make Guyana the first certified country to sell credits directly to the airline industry wasn’t just a marketing slogan; it was a desperate, hopeful plea for global partnership, a tangible pathway to a future where the trees could stand tall, the city could breathe, and the people could thrive, even as the tides kept rising. The path was long, complex, and fraught with challenges.Guyana, a land of ancient rainforests and newfound black gold, found itself at a pivotal crossroads, its future dependent on a delicate balance between extracting wealth and preserving life.  Minister Vickram Bharrat, his office overlooking the bustling Stabroek Market and beyond, the vast expanse of the Guyanese hinterland on an illuminated map, knew this balance intimately. His mission transcended the immediate energy boom; it reached for a future where Guyana was not just a resource exporter, but a global leader in sustainable climate action. He envisioned a Guyana fortified against rising seas, its communities resilient, its energy grid clean. The political will was unequivocally there, a powerful current flowing through the corridors of power. The formidable challenge, however, lay in the absence of resources for such a monumental, costly transition.  “We are open to engagement,” Minister Bharrat had told S&P Global, his words echoing in the international press. “We want Guyana to be the first certified country to sell credits to the airline industry.” It was an audacious goal, but Bharrat saw the clear path. Guyana’s pristine rainforests, covering over 80% of its landmass, were the lungs of the planet, an invaluable carbon sink. Protecting them was not just an environmental imperative; it was an economic lifeline, a tangible asset that could finance the very future of the nation.

The next day, seated across from Minister Bharrat in his tastefully appointed office, Sarah felt the weight of the opportunity. The Minister, flanked by technical advisors from the Guyana Forestry Commission, laid out their vision with clarity and passion.

Our forest cover is unparalleled,” he began, a pointer gesturing to a satellite image on a large screen displaying the unbroken canopy. “We have established robust monitoring and verification systems, building on years of REDD+ readiness. We are not just selling credits; we are offering a partnership in preserving a global heritage, and in return, gaining the resources to build a resilient, sustainable Guyana.”

Sarah listened intently, her mind running through the metrics. The sheer volume of sequestered carbon in Guyana’s forests was staggering. The potential for high-integrity, and verifiable need for good information was stark. 

Every year, flash floods became more frequent, inundating coastal communities, disrupting livelihoods. Farmers watched helplessly as their crops succumbed to saltwater intrusion. 

The existing infrastructure, though constantly being improved, simply wasn’t designed to withstand the relentless assault of a changing climate. Building higher seawalls, investing in resilient agricultural practices, developing a robust renewable energy sector – these were not luxuries, but existential necessities. Yet, the coffers, while benefiting from the nascent oil production, were far from sufficient to fund such comprehensive adaptation and mitigation efforts. 

This was where carbon credits, earned from protecting those vast, carbon-rich forests, became paramount to Guyana’s strategy. They were not merely a funding mechanism; they were the very bedrock of its climate change management and energy transition. News of Guyana’s proactive stance reached Sarah Jenkins, Head of Environmental Finance at AeroGreen Alliance, a consortium of major global airlines committed to reducing their carbon footprint. Sarah, a pragmatist with a deep understanding of nascent carbon markets, saw Guyana as a beacon of potential. Many countries offered land for carbon projects, but few offered the scale, the political stability, and the expressed government-level ambition of Guyana.
But it wasn’t just about the numbers. It was about trust, about long-term commitment. “Minister,” she responded, “the potential is truly extraordinary. Our members are looking for authentic, verifiable offsets, and the airline industry needs reliable, long-term supply as we chart our path to net-zero.” Later that afternoon, Sarah visited a nascent solar farm project on the outskirts of Georgetown, partially funded by a pilot carbon credit scheme. She spoke with Maria, a local community leader, who explained how the reliable, clean power had transformed lives, enabling small businesses to thrive, and providing much-needed light for children’s evening studies. Maria spoke of the floods, too, of the fear of losing everything, and how the hope of new, higher seawalls and better drainage, funded by these global partnerships, kept their spirit alive.  As the sun set over the Demerara River, painting the sky in fiery hues, Sarah reflected on her visit. Guyana was more than just a carbon sink; it was a testament to political will confronting overwhelming resource constraints. Minister Bharrat’s ambition to make Guyana the first certified country to sell credits directly to the airline industry wasn’t just a marketing slogan; it was a desperate, hopeful plea for global partnership, a tangible pathway to a future where the trees could stand tall, the city could breathe, and the people could thrive, even as the tides kept rising.  The path was long, complex, and fraught with challenges, but in Georgetown, a new chapter in global climate finance was beginning to unfold, written in the vibrant green of its forests and the unwavering resolve of its people. The humid air of Georgetown clung to everything, a familiar embrace of salt and blooming frangipani. But beneath the city’s colonial charm and the rising hum of an emergent oil economy, a different kind of pressure was building. Not from the deep offshore wells, but from the encroaching Atlantic, its waves lapping ever closer to the historic seawalls that had long been the city’s stoic guardians. Guyana, a land of ancient rainforests and newfound black gold, found itself at a pivotal crossroads, its future dependent on a delicate balance between extracting wealth and preserving life.

Sarah, a pragmatist with a deep understanding of nascent carbon markets, saw Guyana as a beacon of potential. Many countries offered land for carbon projects, but few offered the scale, the political stability, and the expressed government-level ambition of Guyana.

Her flight touched down at Cheddi Jagan International, the humid air instantly wrapping around her. The next day, seated across from Minister Bharrat in his tastefully appointed office, Sarah felt the weight of the opportunity. The Minister, flanked by technical advisors from the Guyana Forestry Commission, laid out their vision with clarity and passion.
Minister Vickram Bharrat, his office overlooking the bustling Stabroek Market and beyond, the vast expanse of the Guyanese hinterland on an illuminated map, knew this balance intimately. His mission transcended the immediate energy boom; it reached for a future where Guyana was not just a resource exporter, but a global leader in sustainable climate action. He envisioned a Guyana fortified against rising seas, its communities resilient, its energy grid clean. The political will was unequivocally there, a powerful current flowing through the corridors of power. The formidable challenge, however, lay in the absence of resources for such a monumental, costly transition. “We are open to engagement,” Minister Bharrat had told S&P Global, his words echoing in the international press. “We want Guyana to be the first certified country to sell credits to the airline industry.” It was an audacious goal, but Bharrat saw the clear path. Guyana’s pristine rainforests, covering over 80% of its landmass, were the lungs of the planet, an invaluable carbon sink. Protecting them was not just an environmental imperative; it was an economic lifeline, a tangible asset that could finance the very future of the nation. The need was stark. Every year, flash floods became more frequent, inundating coastal communities, disrupting livelihoods. Farmers watched helplessly as their crops succumbed to saltwater intrusion. The existing infrastructure, though constantly being improved, simply wasn’t designed to withstand the relentless assault of a changing climate. Building higher seawalls, investing in resilient agricultural practices, developing a robust renewable energy sector – these were not luxuries, but existential necessities. Yet, the coffers, while benefiting from the nascent oil production, were far from sufficient to fund such comprehensive adaptation and mitigation efforts. This was where carbon credits, earned from protecting those vast, carbon-rich forests, became paramount to Guyana’s strategy. They were not merely a funding mechanism; they were the very bedrock of its climate change management and energy transition. News of Guyana’s proactive stance reached Sarah Jenkins, Head of Environmental Finance at AeroGreen Alliance, a consortium of major global airlines
cforest cover is unparalleled,” he began, a pointer gesturing to a satellite image on a large screen displaying the unbroken canopy. “We have established robust monitoring and verification systems, building on years of REDD+ readiness. We are not just selling credits; we are offering a partnership in preserving a global heritage, and in return, gaining the resources to build a resilient, sustainable Guyana.” Sarah listened intently, her mind running through the metrics. The sheer volume of sequestered carbon in Guyana’s forests was staggering. The potential for high-integrity, verifiable credits was immense. But it wasn’t just about the numbers. It was about trust, about long-term commitment. “Minister,” she responded, “the potential is truly extraordinary. Our members are looking for authentic, verifiable offsets, and the airline industry needs reliable, long-term supply as we chart our path to net-zero.” Later that afternoon, Sarah visited a nascent solar farm project on the outskirts of Georgetown, partially funded by a pilot carbon credit scheme. She spoke with Maria, a local community leader, who explained how the reliable, clean power had transformed lives, enabling small businesses to thrive, and providing much-needed light for children’s evening studies. Maria spoke of the floods, too, of the fear of losing everything, and how the hope of new, higher seawalls and better drainage, funded by these global partnerships, kept their spirit alive. As the sun set over the Demerara River, painting the sky in fiery hues, Sarah reflected on her visit. Guyana was more than just a carbon sink; it was a testament to political will confronting overwhelming resource constraints. Minister Bharrat’s ambition to make Guyana the first certified country to sell credits directly to the airline industry wasn’t just a marketing slogan; it was a desperate, hopeful plea for global partnership, a tangible pathway to a future where the trees could stand tall, the city could breathe, and the people could thrive, even as the tides kept rising. The path was long, complex, and fraught with challenges, but in Georgetown, a new chapter in global climate finance was beginning to unfold, written in the vibrant green of its forests and the unwavering resolve of its people.

eyesonguyana