The 
Bahamas has lost its moral fibre, a Bahamian recently remarked. He wanted to know whether we agreed, and, if so, when did we first notice it.
For us, the day that Bahamians slipped their moral bearings was the day that The Tribune reported that young students, asked to write about what they wanted to be when they grew to manhood, described their ambition to be drug dealers. That was the day for us when everything snapped and a new generation started on a downward path that led to the jail house for many. The crime that we are fighting today – the shootings, stabbings, murders, the greed, the unconcern for one’s fellowman, and the “all for me baby” syndrome — is the maturity of the seeds sown in the drug years.
In those years, young Bahamians were exposed to quick wealth. Men, with no legitimate means of earning, were suddenly rich without apparent effort. They were laden down with gold — around their necks, on their fingers, around their wrists, even their ankles. They drove flashy cars, and seemed to pick up flashy girls. But, the greatest disgrace of all, their wealth — as evil, and illegal as it was — opened the doors to society. This is where morality broke down. The shadows of such people could not even have crossed the same street on which Bahamians of our childhood walked. But by the eighties they were the toast of the town, even some of the politicians got sucked into the circle.
The lines between right and wrong, moral and immoral became blurred.
