Before we light it up

St. Maarten is already counting cannabis money that only exists in a PowerPoint presentation. 400 jobs. US$149 million in taxes over five years. US$1.05 billion in economic impact. Apparently, all that stands between us and prosperity is a lighter.

PowerPoint math

Native Nations Cannabis SXM N.V. counts on more than one in four visitors buying cannabis, spending US$130 each. It cites a Soul Beach survey showing support for legalization and more interest in returning. However, supporting legalization is not the same as placing an order, and “more likely to come back” is not a receipt. A festival crowd can’t speak for all visitors either. The slides also compare other cannabis markets, but how do those numbers turn into sales to St. Maarten’s visitors? The public needs to see the math. Otherwise, we might as well lick a finger, stick it in the air, and say, “Ahh, yes. This feels about right.”

Customers showing up is only the beginning. The business must perform as expected, and the government must collect the taxes. Policing, treatment, and oversight need funding, whether business is booming or barely moving. That’s a lot that has to go right. We can’t tell the police to hold on because tourists didn’t smoke enough this month.

A clock that hasn’t started

This is why we must read what was signed, not just listen to what was promised. The 2025 agreement signed by the current Minister of TEATT significantly changes the 2024 deal signed by the previous minister. Some promises presented as guarantees during the September 28 interview with Lady Grace sounded a lot firmer on radio than they read on paper.

Let us start with the ten years of exclusive rights. The Minister doubled the period from five to ten years and pointed to farmer participation as proof that exclusivity was diluted. If MPs wake up feeling generous and approve legalization, Native Nations alone will get to operate the growing, processing, supplying, and testing facilities. So, what exactly was diluted?

Here’s the catch: these ten years only start when cannabis from local facilities goes on sale. Before that, Native Nations has sole import rights. The 2024 deal gave it the authority to import; the 2025 version made that authority exclusive. With no firm deadline in the agreement to finish building those facilities, St. Maarten could spend years importing cannabis before the ten-year clock starts. So, where does this leave our local farmers?

Farmers on a slide

On radio, the Minister spoke of at least 16 farmers with guaranteed buyers for qualifying crops. In Parliament, the slides showed 19. On paper? The 2025 agreement doesn’t guarantee how many farmers will participate, how much of their harvest will be bought, or what they will be paid. Their proposed role focuses on hemp and CBD. Hemp contains very little THC, the substance that gets people high, and CBD does not produce that high. So, the opportunity offered to farmers is not the same as the product we are counting on tourists to buy.

And then there are the bills. Who pays for the equipment, security, and wages while the crops are growing? Who decides whether the harvest qualifies and what the farmer gets paid for it? A guaranteed buyer offers little comfort if the farmer can’t make ends meet after the sale. Even Jamaica, with its long history of cannabis cultivation, is still lowering barriers for traditional growers a decade into reform. Putting farmers in a presentation doesn’t put money in their pockets.

Some assembly required

Another sweet part of the deal: the agreement asks the government to help obtain a U.S. export license. So now the government must help open that door too? Being allowed to sell cannabis in an American state doesn’t mean that you can pack it up and ship it to St. Maarten. Recent U.S. medical-cannabis reforms do not authorize recreational exports. Before anyone starts counting those shipments, somebody needs to explain how they will legally get here.

The people behind this proposal should know this well. They have seen what happens when cannabis plans collide with federal law. Native Nations SXM is majority-owned by South Dakota’s Flandreau Santee Sioux Tribe. In 2015, the tribe burned its cannabis crop, fearing a federal raid. The state later charged two of the consultants it had hired: one pleaded guilty to a single marijuana conspiracy count, and the other was acquitted. No one from the tribe was charged. The tribe opened a medical dispensary in 2021. This history is all the more reason to seek a clear legal route before relying on U.S. shipments.

According to the agreement, growing cannabis in St. Maarten requires an “extraordinary amount” of electricity and water. It proposes exploring independent supplies but doesn’t secure any. Where will they come from, and how will residents be protected?

Who holds the purse?

Protecting residents also means making sure treatment and community services can meet their needs. That’s where the community foundation comes in. On radio, the Minister described US$750,000 a year for ten years. On paper, that money depends on budgets, community needs, and how well Native Nations is doing financially. One clause allows the company to adjust payments, while another states that both sides must agree to changes. Now imagine money gets tight. Which clause gets the last word? Services such as counselling at Turning Point can’t wait for that argument to be settled.

And say the money arrives. Who holds it? Native Nations is tasked with setting up the foundation, unless both sides choose an existing organization. Government and company representatives will sit on the board, but the agreement doesn’t say who appoints them, removes them, or has the deciding vote. Sitting at the table is not the same as holding the pen. The U.S. Virgin Islands already bars elected officials from holding cannabis licenses, and in October 2026, its Cannabis Advisory Board was debating what should happen when a license holder runs for office and wins. St. Maarten needs safeguards against conflicts of interest before those seats are filled.

Receipts, please

Stay with me, because now we get to the small matter of checking the books. The foundation’s annual report is not an audit of Native Nations finances. The government retains its tax powers, but the agreement gives it no explicit right to audit Native Nations. If company finances determine community payments, how can the public check its share?

The Minister described a public regulator funded by a share of the money coming in, before costs. The agreement doesn’t secure that funding. Native Nations pays for drafting the rules, and Parliament decides whether to approve them. The proposed safeguards should be published so the public can see what will be legally required. Who will independently review the rules, and will the watchdog be ready before sales begin?

Is anyone ready?

On radio, the Minister also pointed to the Netherlands and its three exclusive growers. The actual experiment is a limited trial with up to ten growers supplying ten municipalities. St. Maarten’s agreement promises one company ten years of exclusivity, with the government’s contractual exit tied to a serious breach that Native Nations then gets two months to fix. In 2024, probable cause and two months’ notice were enough. Native Nations, meanwhile, can walk away at its sole discretion if it decides the legislation is unlikely to pass. If the Dutch model is the example, why not begin with a limited trial, multiple growers, and independent oversight secured before sales start?

That last part matters. Oversight requires more than rules on paper. It requires trained staff, legal powers, and services that can respond when something goes wrong. In July 2026, the Minister of Justice told Parliament that the police force was 43 percent short of its approved strength and that St. Maarten had no roadside breath-testing law, no working breathalyzer, and no legal blood alcohol limit. The Mental Health Foundation’s new building isn’t due until 2027. Turning Point has raised capacity concerns and reported in 2025 that direct VSA funding had stopped in 2016. Therefore, which of these problems will disappear when someone opens a dispensary?

The Minister of ECYS reported that students as young as 14 arrive at school high, noting that it isn’t always marijuana. This is enough reason to examine this deal more closely and demand clear protections for the community, not to sell the country a six for a nine. What about a mother working three jobs whose son already smokes? She can’t simply buy a plane ticket and send him overseas for treatment. She needs help she can access and afford. What is she supposed to do in the meantime, wait for cannabis sales to pick up?

The community needs reliable support, not goodwill that shows up when the spotlight is on. Native Nations collecting plastic bottles, donating baskets, and supporting youth baseball deserve gratitude. However, a thank you shouldn’t come wrapped in ten years of exclusive rights. Publish the protections, explain the figures, and ensure that the promises on radio match the obligations on paper.

Before we light up the joint, let’s inspect it. If Native Nations gets firm rights while the people of St. Maarten get conditional promises, whose future is this deal really securing?

By Angelique Remy-Chittick, MScFinancial Strategist & Consultant, Financial.ish