St. John's City is no longer functioning as a capital should — and according to Antigua News Room, which published the following letter, the time for honest reckoning has arrived.
Walking through the city, the letter's author argues, is not merely inconvenient — it is exhausting. Moving from one point to another resembles navigating an obstacle course: uneven surfaces, broken pavement, and constant hazards underfoot. Beyond Heritage Quay, a smooth, continuous walking path is virtually nonexistent.
The consequences extend beyond inconvenience. The writer recounts witnessing a tourist struggling to push a loved one in a wheelchair through the city's streets — a moment they describe as painful to observe. "If I were in their position, after encountering the state of the city, I would have turned around and gone straight back to the cruise ship," the letter reads. The incident, in the author's view, lays bare the reality of accessibility in St. John's: it does not exist in any meaningful way.
The city's sensory environment compounds the problem. Unpleasant odours linger across various areas, emanating from open gutters and aging trash bins that the writer describes as outdated, insufficient, and in urgent need of replacement.
The physical fabric of the city tells a similar story. Buildings are visibly deteriorating, and many retail spaces make little effort toward appealing presentation. Merchandising, the author observes, is treated as an afterthought — if considered at all.
Parking presents another layer of frustration. Spaces are informally claimed and guarded with cones by business owners, organisations, and individuals alike. The writer questions why residents should feel motivated to drive into the city to shop or support local businesses under such conditions.
Work carried out by the Antigua Public Utilities Authority adds further strain. When roads are excavated, they are frequently left in a state of disrepair for extended periods, rendering them partially or fully impassable and leaving residents to endure delays the author characterises as unreasonable and avoidable.
The letter does not shy away from a direct conclusion. "Nothing maintains itself," the author writes. "In the same way that a hot girl invests in her upkeep, a city requires consistent care, planning, and reinvestment. St. John's has not received that level of attention — and it shows."
The writer is clear that this is not an argument against the city's history, but a call for honesty about its present condition. The current state of St. John's, they contend, is not sustainable — and continuing to treat it as though it is does a disservice to residents, businesses, and visitors alike.
The letter concludes with a stark assessment: the city is beyond saving, and businesses should relocate so that residents and visitors can access the service and comfort they deserve.
