Op ‘jacht’ naar een ontmoeting met Ashwin Adhin

It was early May when a promotional video popped up on my Facebook feed, leading with a portrait of Ashwin Adhin, Speaker of the National Assembly of Suriname, captioned “Suriname Man on a Mission”. The video invited me to a networking evening billed as “A Night of Connection” with Adhin, scheduled for the evening of Thursday, April 30 in Wateringen, a small town west of The Hague between Rijswijk and Naaldwijk. Local organizers Sunil Kowlesar and Hugo Sital, reported to be acquaintances of Adhin, promised attendees light snacks and drinks.

Wateringen is not exactly known as a hub for Surinamese community events, so I looked up the venue online and was surprised to find it was a small local casual eatery called Warung Chit-Ra. It struck me as an odd choice to host a formal meeting with the sitting speaker of a foreign parliament. It seemed organizers caught wind of the confusion around the original venue, because a few days later I received the same promotional clip updated with a new location: WestCord Hotel Delft, on the same date, still free entry with complimentary food and drinks, plus a WhatsApp contact for registration.

I seriously considered signing up. I had never met Adhin in person, and I was eager to hear his perspective on the role of the Surinamese diaspora in the Netherlands in supporting ongoing development in Suriname. Around the same time, I saw a separate announcement on LinkedIn from the Diaspora Instituut Nederland (DIN) for another meeting with Adhin, scheduled for the afternoon of Sunday May 3 at the Van der Valk Hotel near Schiphol Airport. Having never attended a DIN event before, I registered for this one instead, paying a 15-euro contribution to cover venue rental costs. This way, I figured I would get my chance to meet Adhin one way or another.

That weekend was already shaping up to be packed: I had also received a personal invitation to the inaugural Jules Wijdenbosch Lecture, organized by diaspora group Collectief Overzee Surinamers, in Amsterdam-Zuidoost on the afternoon of Saturday May 2.

But just as I prepared for the weekend, everything began to unravel. First, I got a message canceling the April 30 Adhin event at WestCord Hotel Delft. Then, on the morning of May 2, Surinamese outlet Starnieuws published a story in which Adhin flatly denied any involvement with the DIN event scheduled for Sunday. Notably, he made no comment at all about the canceled Delft gathering.

Adhin told Starnieuws that with his official approval, the Surinamese ambassador to the Netherlands would host an official networking reception for diaspora organizations, entrepreneurs and professionals Sunday evening May 3 in Amsterdam. The invitation was even published alongside the Starnieuws story, open to all interested attendees. The announcement sparked heated discussion across Dutch social media. But DIN issued its own statement shortly after, confirming the Sunday afternoon event would go forward as planned regardless. By this point, Adhin had become something of an unexpected fixation for me, a constant presence in my planning for days. I found myself debating whether to rearrange my plans to attend the Amsterdam evening event.

Then, in what was a complete surprise, as I waited for the inaugural Jules Wijdenbosch Lecture to start in Amsterdam-Zuidoost that Saturday afternoon, Adhin himself walked into the venue alongside his wife. Attendees were asked to wait a moment for the Surinamese ambassador, who was en route to the event.

I was sitting just four rows behind Adhin, so I took the chance to introduce myself. He stood, we shook hands, I shared my name and told him it was an honor to meet him, and we chatted for a few minutes while we waited for the ambassador. It turned out Adhin had to leave early to attend a wedding in Rotterdam, which was the whole reason for his short visit to the Netherlands. I left that chance encounter delighted to have met the figure that had occupied my planning for days.

When I arrived at the well-attended DIN event the next afternoon, I was naturally curious about how organizers would explain Adhin’s absence. All DIN chair John Brewster shared in his opening remarks was that he had received a message — which I assumed came from the Surinamese embassy — stating Adhin could not attend due to unspecified security risks. Those seeking more details were invited to ask Brewster privately after the event concluded.

By this point, I had already drawn my own conclusion. No meeting with visiting Surinamese ministers or parliament members, particularly those affiliated with the National Democratic Party (NDP), can go forward without the explicit approval of the Surinamese ambassador in The Hague. It is important to note that Ambassador Panka is no stranger to political organization: he previously served as the NDP’s official spokesperson, and led the party’s own Information & Propaganda Institute.

After the DIN event wrapped, I briefly considered heading to Amsterdam to attend the official evening reception and hear Adhin speak after all. But I had not registered in advance, and it seemed likely security would turn me away at the door, so I decided to head home instead.

Late that Sunday night, as I scrolled through Facebook before bed, I came across a photo from the Rotterdam wedding Adhin had left the Amsterdam lecture to attend. He was dressed in a celebratory, tailored three-piece burgundy suit, so well-fitted and formal that for a moment I thought he was the groom. As I went to sleep with that image in my mind, I could not help but note one clear contradiction: there had been no mention of security risks at that wedding.

This firsthand account of the chaotic sequence of events around Adhin’s short visit to the Netherlands offers a clear look at how diaspora engagement with Suriname’s ruling party works through official channels, and the frictions that arise when independent groups try to organize their own engagements.