We often hear about slavery as the starting point for explaining the racial divide in Bermuda. But far less attention is given to what happened after. For more than a century, without political power or government assistance, Black Bermudians built strong communities and lasting institutions.

From 1834 to the 1960s, the Government of Bermuda showed little to no concern for the wellbeing of Black people. There were no government-sponsored social safety nets, no policies designed to help us succeed and only a handful of independent Black political representatives. Still, we found ways to thrive.

We created mutual aid societies, bought land without access to bank loans, and established churches, sports clubs and traditions such as Cup Match and the Eastern Counties. We passed down skills, values and a sense of dignity. Crime was low, marriages were lasting, and children were raised in two-parent homes. But over time, we began to trade those tools for the belief that political power alone would be enough.

In 1998, we finally saw Black political leadership become a reality. And yet, across education, employment, housing, health and crime, the majority of Black Bermudians continue to fall behind. In 2009, there were 20,785 Black people employed in Bermuda. By 2023, that number had dropped to 16,903. Despite our high representation in public office, real outcomes for working people have worsened.

Let me be clear. Black leadership has not failed because it is Black. It has failed because, once in power, it too often lacked the vision and will to build the economic and cultural strength our communities need. Symbolism does not feed, house, clothe or protect us.

The Portuguese community proves the point. While they have held some political positions, their economic strength was not primarily built through political influence. It came through strong family structures, entrepreneurship and generational planning. Their progress has been rooted in ownership and self-reliance, not in holding office.

Some will say this dishonours the legacy of those who fought for voting rights and representation. I disagree. We can respect the past while being honest about the present. So we must ask, what did we lose in the process of gaining political power?

I am a member of Loyal Flower of the Day Lodge No 6347, founded in 1879. Like many friendly societies, it was created to support Black Bermudians when the Government would not. These lodges offered services that resembled modern insurance and credit unions, along with educational support, moral guidance and a sense of belonging. They were not political. They were practical. And they worked. More than a century later, this lodge and others like it are still providing support where public systems continue to fall short.

No programme, party or politician can restore what must be rebuilt in our homes. Financial assistance cannot replace a father. Bureaucracy cannot teach discipline. Culture cannot be legislated.

We often talk about what slavery took from us, but we rarely speak about what was built in its wake. Long before we had political power, Black Bermudians made steady, undeniable progress, rooted in family, faith and shared values. That legacy is not just history; it is a blueprint.

What needs fixing now will not be solved by who we elect, but by how we live, what we build and what we pass on.

Real power never came from parliament.

It has always come from us.

• Omar Dill is the chairman of the Free Democratic Movement