For over a decade, the people of Trinidad and Tobago have been asking one question: “When we getting water?” Now, we’re asking a new one: Was it really this easy to fix? Because according to former WASA Chairman Ravindra Nanga, not only did he not preside over corruption—he actually cleaned house, fixed leaks, and improved water supply for over half a million citizens. And it didn’t take him ten years. It took less than two weeks.
Let that sink in—unlike the water in your pipes during the last dry season.
Let’s rewind. Between 2010 and 2020, successive governments pumped $21 billion into WASA. What did we get?
- 4,828 employees
- Only 34% of the population received 24/7 water.
- Reports of internal corruption, sabotage, water-trucking mafias, and unions moonlighting as contractors.
In short: WASA became a waterless wonderland — overstaffed, underperforming, and churning through cash faster than a Carnival all-inclusive on a hot day.
Appointed as Chairman in 2021, Ravindra Nanga walked into this bureaucratic disaster with something rare: a plan and a backbone. And according to his own words, he walked out with his reputation intact and WASA in much better shape.
So what did he do?
- Tackled over 5,000 pipeline leaks.
- Cut excessive overtime costs.
- Modernized the New Services Department to stamp out bribe-for-water schemes.
- And most importantly: Delivered better water to over 500,000 citizens.
WASA chairman Ravindra Nanga (left) speaks with CEO Kelvin Romain at a media briefing at the Ministry of Public Utilities in Port of Spain.
All while dealing with internal sabotage, legacy corruption, and the usual gallery of political backbiting.
Not long after resigning, Nanga found himself at the centre of a political melee. Public Utilities Minister Barry Padarath accused the former WASA board of corruption, specifically regarding a $3 million contract allegedly awarded to a PNM campaign manager just before the election.
Nanga’s response?
“If the Minister understands procurement, he’d know that contracts go through tender, evaluation, and board approval. No individual got any such contract.”
Padarath didn’t back down. He fired back with whistleblower claims, fake boardroom lists, and promises of upcoming “scandalous revelations.” It’s all starting to sound more like an episode of Scandal than a utilities debate.
But here’s what’s hard to ignore: while politicians squabble, Nanga delivered water.
Let’s state the obvious. If what Nanga claims is true—and so far, no hard evidence has emerged to say otherwise—then yes, fixing WASA’s biggest issues may have been easier than we were led to believe.
Which begs the question: Why didn’t anyone else do it?
Was it political interference? Was it union power plays? Was it plain, old-fashioned incompetence?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t water. And that’s what the people care about.
If fixing WASA was as straightforward as Nanga makes it sound, then Trinidad and Tobago has been robbed of water, time, and trust for far too long.
Maybe the issue was never the leaks. Maybe it was who we had fixing them.
Nanga may have left the building, but if what he claims holds water (pun intended), the country may need to seriously rethink who gets to manage its most basic resource.
And to the political players now playing the blame game?
Let the pipes—and the facts—speak for themselves.