The Housing Development Corporation’s (HDC) disclosure of the depth of its financial crisis should jolt the national conscience.
Chairman Feeroz Khan’s candid account of an organisation buried under losses, bloated contracts, and years of questionable decision-making reveals a public institution teetering on the verge of collapse. Yet it also forces a broader reckoning about the country’s housing dilemma — one that now includes a waiting list “well over 175,000” applicants and political promises that rarely match operational reality.
Khan’s numbers are staggering. Losses of more than $700 million in each of the last two fiscal years; $600 million in unpaid bills; an overdrawn bank account by $100 million; and a $400 million deficit in the employees’ pension plan. This is not mismanagement in the abstract; it is a structural breakdown of responsibility that accumulated, unnoticed or unchallenged, for years.
At the heart of the crisis is a housing model that simply does not work. As Khan bluntly put it, the HDC has been building homes at $1.6 million and selling them for less than half that price. No sustainable public housing system anywhere in the world can survive such a gap. The chairman’s biting analogy — that it might have been cheaper to hand citizens cash and ask them to buy their own homes — exposes the absurdity of the current approach.
But construction overruns are only part of the story. Khan detailed a pattern of inflated and poorly supervised contracts that drained resources with astonishing efficiency. One contractor, he said, was paid $18,000 plus VAT every month for cutting three acres of grass — work that should cost a fraction of that. Yet, for nearly ten years, the contract rolled on.
Even more astounding is the sewer treatment plant in Bon Air West, where costs ballooned from $3.6 million to $34 million through a sequence of variations unsupported by completed work. These are not mere accounting errors, they are illustrations of a system in which procurement rules were treated as inconveniences rather than safeguards.
Khan’s immediate response — terminating contracts with at least 50 maintenance providers and hinting at further staff reductions — is controversial but unavoidable. With monthly overheads of $40 million, including up to $16 million in wages, the chairman insists that a smaller, sustainable organisation is the only path forward. It is cold comfort to workers whose contracts will not be renewed, but fiscal bankruptcy serves no one, least of all the thousands still waiting for housing.
Yet while the HDC downsizes its operations, political actors are issuing bold promises of rapid transformation. The UNC has proposed building 20,000 affordable homes in two years, reviving land distribution programmes and offering grants, low-interest loans, and rental-to-own initiatives for vulnerable groups. Many of these ideas are attractive. Some are overdue. But given the state of the HDC, they also raise the question: Can any large-scale housing plan succeed without first fixing the foundation?
The reality is that T&T’s housing shortage requires a rebuilding of trust, transparency and capacity. The public deserves clarity, not slogans. The HDC must present a recovery plan grounded in real numbers, proper procurement and long-term discipline.
Furthermore, any political party serious about solving the housing crisis must first commit to reforming the institutions that will carry out those promises.
Only then can the country move from housing chaos to housing hope.
