It is a painful truth that must be said out loud: 

Petitions to the Curaçao government will not bring justice, change, or peace—not because our people don’t deserve it, but because our leadership has been colonized not just politically, but mentally.  

The Dutch Crown may have handed over flags and ceremonies, but it never released control over the way Curaçaoan elites think. 

Mental Colonization: When Obedience to The Hague Replaces Obedience to Truth  

Curaçao’s leaders were raised and educated—often groomed—within systems that reward loyalty to Dutch standards, not to Curaçao’s soul. They adopt Dutch caution, Dutch language, Dutch frameworks of governance—even when those systems oppress or ignore our people.  

And when moral challenges arise—like: 

• Speaking up against genocide in Gaza 

• Confronting the Dutch legacy of slavery and racial control 

• Breaking dependency on colonial economics  

…our leaders freeze. They delay. They consult The Hague. 

Their brains enter permafrost mode—incapable of bold, prophetic action.  

This is not governance—it’s administrative dependency. 

This is not sovereignty—it’s psychological capture.  

Petitions That Go Nowhere  

We sign letters. We hold hearings. We knock on the doors of ministers who smile politely and say, “We understand.” 

But in the background, they’re checking how far they can go without losing favor—or funding—from their overseers in the Netherlands.  

It’s not always malicious. 

It’s systemic.  

How can justice flow when the gatekeepers are afraid to open the gates?  

Curaçao Is Not Neutral—It Is Caught in a Colonial Contract  

The Kingdom Charter (“Statuut”) locks us into a system where The Netherlands decides what is international, legal, or moral. That means even when the Curaçaoan people want to stand for something deeper—justice for Palestine, fair trade, reparations, or military neutrality—the voice of the people gets filtered through a colonial contract signed in fear and maintained in silence.  

We are ruled not by Dutch soldiers, but by Dutch-designed self-regulators who cannot imagine true autonomy—even when injustice is plain and peace is on the line.  

The Spiritual Consequence: A Nation That Forgets Its Divine Mission  

Curaçao’s deepest wound is not economic or political. 

It is spiritual.  

We were meant to be a light, a bridge between peoples, a nation rooted in resistance and redemption. 

But our spiritual compass has been buried beneath bureaucracy and borrowed governance.  

We cannot serve justice while serving colonial comfort. 

We cannot walk in divine purpose while kneeling to political timidity.  

Our fight is not against flesh and blood, but against systems, powers, and strongholds that have taken root in the imagination of our leaders. 

—Ephesians 6:12, paraphrased 

Conclusion: No Petition Will Melt a Brain in Permafrost  

Until we decolonize the minds of our leaders, we will keep chasing illusions. 

• No letter to Parliament will awaken a conscience that fears its own shadow. 

• No speech at Fort Amsterdam will move a soul frozen in loyalty to Dutch praise. 

• No justice will flow from a heart that fears what The Hague will think.  

So let us be clear:  

Curaçao’s real hope does not lie in the government’s hands. 

It lies in the awakening of its people—and in the return of righteous leadership under Yehovah’s Kingdom.  

Until then, we wait. We speak. We resist. We remember. 

Because we were never meant to be slaves—not in body, and not in mind.