On 8 April 2026, the Housing Development Corporation (HDC) announced its intention to award approximately $3.4 billion in Design-Build-Finance (DBF) housing contracts across 11 packages. The public response was immediate. Questions were raised about the capacity of some intended awardees, the absence of established regional DBF contractors, and the argument that no public money was involved because the contractors were bringing their own financing.
That last point should be disposed of first.
No public money?
A DBF arrangement is a form of Public-Private Partnership (PPP). It cannot be removed from public procurement regulation merely because the contractor provides the financing. Section 7(1) of the Public Procurement and Disposal of Public Property Act 2015, as amended, states in plain terms that the Act applies to “public bodies and public-private partnership arrangements”. The statutory definition of a PPP also contemplates arrangements in which the private party is compensated from a public fund, from charges or fees collected from users or from both.
Nor is the absence of an upfront transfer of public money the same thing as the absence of public value, public asset allocation or public risk. PPPs may involve public land, development rights, exclusivity, user fees, sale proceeds, revenue-sharing arrangements, guaranteed demand for future sales, minimum revenue undertakings, loan guarantees, government warranties, termination compensation, tax concessions, or other contingent fiscal support. If the private contractors were truly doing everything in a transaction outside the public procurement regime, one may fairly ask: why was HDC awarding anything at all? Private finance may change the funding structure. It does not erase the public selection function.
Without sight of the full invitation documents, it is difficult to comment responsibly on the precise risk to the public coffers. But that is not the central purpose of my writing here. The more immediate legal question is what happened after the awards were announced: the OPR’s intervention, the public complaint, the 11 Applications for Review filed by NH International, and the dismissal of those Applications, ostensibly not because the grievances were found to be without merit, but because the hearing panel held that they were out of time.
Locus
On 14 April 2026, the Office of Procurement Regulation directed HDC to halt the 11 awards pending a review of the procurement record under sections 14(1)(a), (c) and (d) of the Act. A formal complaint was then lodged under section 41(2) by a private citizen. On April 21 2026, NH International (Caribbean) Limited filed 11 Applications for Review, contending that it ought to have been invited to participate in the procurement and had not been. Three days later, the Hearing Panel dismissed all 11 Applications for non-compliance with section 50(2)(a) of the Act and Regulation 4(b) of the Challenge Proceedings Regulations 2021.
Section 49(1) gives the right to bring a challenge to “a supplier or contractor” who alleges that a procuring entity acted unlawfully and that the supplier or contractor has suffered, or is likely to suffer, loss or injury. The provision does not say that the supplier must have been invited to bid. It requires an allegation of unlawful procurement action and actual or likely loss or injury. On the face of section 49(1), NH’s locus is therefore not the difficulty. The Orders do not appear to deny it.
That matters because NH is not an obscure or speculative entrant. On its own public record, it is among the region’s most established construction firms. Founded in 1965, it has delivered more than 100 major projects across 11 countries, engaged in contracts cumulatively worth billions of TT dollars, pioneered DBF contracting regionally, and been named Contractor of the Year by the Trinidad and Tobago Contractors Association on eight occasions.
That history did not entitle NH to win any package. It did, however, mean that if NH was excluded from a restricted or pre-selected DBF opportunity, the exclusion required a lawful, criteria-based explanation. Public bodies cannot arbitrarily, capriciously or irrationally fail to invite suitably qualified contractors to participate in public contracting opportunities.
In procurement terms, quiet exclusion from invitations can be as serious as express disqualification. The Act contains a formal ineligibility regime for suppliers who are not permitted to participate in procurement proceedings. That regime requires lawful grounds, process, publication, and an opportunity to be heard. A public body cannot bypass that architecture by maintaining, in effect, a private invitation culture in which capable suppliers are simply not called.
This is why the NH complaint matters beyond NH. It raises a larger question: whether pre-selection is being used as a lawful filtering mechanism, or whether it can become an invisible gatekeeping device. At its worst, silent exclusion begins to resemble not lawful pre-selection, but unlawful blacklisting.
Limitation
The harder issue is limitation.
Section 50(2)(a) provides that applications for review of the terms of solicitation, or of decisions or actions taken in pre-qualification or pre-selection proceedings, must be made “prior to the deadline for presenting submissions”. For an invited bidder, that deadline is known. For a supplier whose grievance is that it was excluded from invitation, the deadline may be a date it could not reasonably have known existed.
That is the conundrum. How does a contractor who discovers, only upon publication of the Notice of Award, that it may have been excluded from pre-selection, challenge that exclusion before the time for submission of bids? Does the law compel the impossible?
There is a literal case to be made. Procurement requires certainty. Suppliers may be expected to monitor public notices, the OPR depository, and customary trade announcements. A wider discoverability approach may unsettle procurement timelines and convert standstill from a discipline into a discretion. For the invited supplier, the literal reading works.
But the literal reading begins to fail where the supplier’s complaint is that it was kept outside the process. Lex non cogit ad impossibilia, the law does not compel the impossible, is more than a Latin flourish. It is a principle of legal reason. A statute should not lightly be read to require a person to take a step that the alleged wrong itself made impossible.
To read section 50(2)(a) as cancelling the standing that section 49(1) grants, for the very class of supplier most acutely affected by unlawful exclusion, would subtract by interpretation what Parliament did not subtract by enactment.
The constitutional question
This is where the issue moves beyond ordinary procurement procedure.
The common law has long resisted limitation rules that run before an injured person could reasonably know of the injury. Cartledge v E Jopling & Sons Ltd is the classic starting point. Julien v Evolving Tecknologies and Enterprise Development Co Ltd confirms that discoverability is alive in Trinidad and Tobago where a matter is concealed or could not, with reasonable diligence, have been discovered. Those authorities do not mechanically decide section 50(2)(a). They reveal a deeper principle: time should not defeat a right before the right can practically be exercised.
The constitutional dimension is sharper still. Section 4(b) of the Constitution protects equality before the law and the protection of the law. Section 4(d) protects equality of treatment from any public authority in the exercise of its functions. Protection of the law is not satisfied by a remedy that exists only in form, but expires before the person affected could reasonably know it was needed.
If a supplier is unlawfully excluded from pre-selection, and then told it should have challenged before the deadline for submissions, the wrong and the time-bar begin to feed each other. The public body’s exclusion keeps the supplier outside the process. The same exclusion then becomes the reason the supplier is said to be too late. That cannot easily be reconciled with a regime enacted to secure fairness, transparency, accountability and public confidence.
This is not the ordinary case of a disappointed bidder asking to reopen a lost competition. The allegation is structural. It is that the statutory remedy becomes unavailable to the very supplier who says the public body unlawfully kept it outside the gate. Where that happens, the supplier has not merely missed a deadline. It has been denied any practical opportunity to invoke the protection Parliament created.
Lord Hoffmann’s principle of legality in ex parte Simms gives the interpretive bridge. Fundamental rights are not overridden by general or ambiguous words. If Parliament intends to produce so severe a consequence, it must speak clearly. Section 50(2)(a) contains no express language saying that an excluded supplier loses its statutory remedy before it could reasonably know of the exclusion. Read with section 49(1), with section 5 outlining the Act’s public-interest purposes, and with sections 4(b) and 4(d) of the Constitution, it should not, in my respectful view, be given that effect.
NH had no right to win. No contractor does. But a public body should not be able to control access to a multi-billion-dollar public opportunity through undisclosed exclusion, and then rely on the consequences of that exclusion to defeat review.
The HDC matter is therefore not over. The OPR’s section 14 review remains distinct from the dismissed NH Applications. The section 41 complaint also remains alive. The written reasons for the dismissal Orders, due before the end of this month, will matter.
But the deeper issue is already visible. Procurement law was enacted to replace private discretion with public discipline. A law designed to protect fairness should not be read to make fairness impossible. If section 50(2)(a) means that an unlawfully excluded supplier has no practical route to be heard, the problem is not merely one of accountable procurement procedure. The problem is that the supplier may have been shut out of the process and then denied a remedy because it was shut out. That makes the constitutional question unavoidable: can the right to protection of the law be satisfied where the alleged wrong that gives rise to the remedy is also used to defeat it?
Dr Margaret Satya Rose is an attorney-at-law, head of Satya Juris Chambers and CEO of PC+, a procurement capacity building firm serving public officers, public bodies and public suppliers. Learn more: https://procurementcomplianceplus.com
