Dominica’s political landscape has recently become the subject of a playful satirical deep dive from the popular commentary column *The Kwak*, known for its tongue-in-cheek takes on local political theater. In a break from its usual deadpan “unbiased” reporting, the column lays out a wildly funny, over-the-top theory that the United Workers Party (UWP) has pulled off one of the most elaborate strategic gambits in modern Caribbean political history — one that even seasoned political analysts never saw coming, and that could leave their long-time rivals, the incumbent Dominica Labour Party (DLP), reeling ahead of upcoming elections.
According to the satirical thesis, every public display of division, leadership chaos, and infighting that has left even UWP supporters scratching their heads is not a sign of collapse, but a carefully crafted feint designed to throw DLP leader and sitting Prime Minister Roosevelt Skerrit off balance. The column argues the entire sequence of events — two previous leaders being pushed aside, two veteran party figures stepping back to elevate a new standard-bearer, and ongoing public bickering even after a supposed reconciliation — is a deliberate copy of Skerrit’s own path to power, designed to fight psychological manipulation with equal measure.
The latest twist in this supposed master plan, the column notes, is the recent announcement by Danny Lugay that he would run for office despite the party’s already selected candidate, alongside two other UWP members, Annie Edwards and Delbert Paris, declaring candidacies for the same constituencies. Where casual observers see a damaging split that could split opposition votes, the satirical analysis sees genius: how can the DLP mount an effective campaign if they have no idea who their actual opponents will be? The joke goes that the UWP has already planned for every contingency, leaving the DLP completely outmaneuvered.
For any readers still confused by the layered satire, the column does acknowledge one very real, straightforward UWP move: party leader Thomson Fontaine has launched a new targeted social media outreach effort aimed at women voters, cheekily branded the “Netflix and Chill” campaign. The column gives a lighthearted nod to the effort as a shrewd, modern outreach step.
The piece leans fully into its satirical identity, with a clear disclaimer that the content is intentionally silly, designed to poke fun at all sides of Dominican politics and spark conversation. The closing joke drives the point home: anyone who takes the outlandish analysis seriously enough to believe it is doomed to the worst fate the column can imagine — ending up as leader of the UWP.