In contemplating how I should express my endorsement of Kamla Persad-Bissessar as the next prime minister, I arrived at the glorious realisation that I could comment in myriad ways. I could say my support was encouraged by her track record or past performance, which amplifies upon her history as a politician. As evidence, I could effortlessly rely on a string of governance achievements. In the sphere of education alone, I could enunciate upon the abolition of the anachronistic Common Entrance Examination under her guide, her almost revolutionary school building programme, and the innovative provision of free laptops and textbooks to school children. I could have scripted as well on her unflinching and unwavering work in children’s healthcare and pointed to the Children’s Hospital or to the Children’s Life Fund, funded in part by 10% of her personal salary as prime minister between 2010 and 2015. I could have easily scripted too, that my endorsement was fortified by her own fortitude, courage and resilience, demonstrated by her own grit and determination over the past 15 years in which she faced every detractor head on, internally and externally. More pointedly, her position of political leader always resonated and was in accordance with the tone, texture and tenet of the legal structure of the UNC. Within her own party structure, she faced challenges and arrived victorious in 2010, 2015, 2017, 2020, 2022 and 2024. I could easily validate my endorsement by the fact that Persad-Bissessar has rewritten all academic suggestions that politics is a male-dominated field. Her rise to leadership in 2010 requires no amplification through historical narratives. And in the run-up to the 2025 general election, she has attracted men of power and influence who share in her political ideology, philosophy and strategic intent. In the field of law, former attorney general John Jeremie and Devesh Maharaj; in labour and industrial relations, Ancel Roget; and in national security, Roger Alexander—all of whom have pledged resolute support towards her drive on the road to prime ministerial office. That support may very well be summarised through the words of a revitalised Jack Warner, who is reported recently to have said, “I have ambition to return as one of the strongest defenders of the UNC and I have made it a mission of mine to help put the UNC in power.” But these are all facts in the public domain; perhaps there is something more to my endorsement. In June 2019, I met with the Leader of the Opposition to announce my resignation after a brief stint as an Opposition senator. It was an offer from her to serve country and a position I steadfastly considered a privilege and honour. What struck me then was that she was not only (and perhaps justifiably) concerned about “her newest senator” resigning after such a short period, but that she showed genuine care and concern towards me as a person, regarding the circumstances prompting my decision; discussions were kept private and confidential. For me, it was that compassion that counted most. I realised then that her concept of governance was based and sculptured upon her inherent, compassionate nature as a human being. For me, compassion is an extremely rare commodity, a sporadic characteristic within our politics and politicians. And for me, compassionate politics—though invisible on the ballot paper and oftentimes silent on the political hustings—carries within it the power to draw the reciprocal kindness of the electorate who exercise their franchise.