Photo of Suriname’s first woman president Jennifer Geerlings-Simons via Wikimedia Commons, used under a Creative Commons Zero, Public Domain Dedication license.
“You will work hard.” That was the promise former medical doctor Jennifer Geerlings-Simons made during her presidential election campaign. It was a phrase equal parts warning and invitation, and now, Suriname, the Dutch-speaking Caribbean nation situated on the shoulder of South America, is set to have her as its first-ever woman president.
In the context of media freedom, identity, and political legacy in Suriname, the weight of this moment is being felt across the nation, to the diaspora beyond, but as any woman in public life knows, “firsts” come with double binds. Geerlings-Simons’ presidency has the potential to be scrutinised not solely through a political lens, but also a gendered one. However, her election is historic not simply because of her gender, but because of what she represents: a country at a crossroads, reckoning with its past and daring to imagine a different future.
A coalition and a chance
Following the general election on May 25, Suriname’s political landscape underwent significant changes. To begin with, no single party secured a majority. However, on May 27, Geerlings-Simons’ National Democratic Party (NDP) — once led by the controversial former president Desi Bouterse — announced a six-party coalition totalling 34 of 51 parliamentary seats, enough for a supermajority and to install her as president.
Geerlings-Simons brings decades of political experience to the role. She has been a parliamentarian since 1996, was a former chair of the National Assembly, and has been the NDP’s party leader since July 2024. Now, at 72, she becomes a symbol of both continuity and rupture — a seasoned insider with an outsider’s promise of dismantling corruption, slimming government excess, and modernising the state.
Gendered power in a post-colonial context
Known for her strategic discipline as opposed to emotional appeals, Geerlings-Simons once told reporters that women in power are “expected to clean up messes with fewer tools.” Unlike her male predecessors, she will likely be expected not only to lead but also to heal; to lead with firmness, yet empathy; to be competent, yet nurturing.
In the Caribbean, women in power often walk a tightrope, as they are expected to embody maternal virtues even as they perform administrative duties. In Trinidad and Tobago, Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar is sometimes referred to as “Aunty Kams”; Surinamese youth have already taken to calling Geerlings-Simons “Aunty Jenny.”
The moniker hasn't gone over well with 28-year-old youth activist Shanelle (last name withheld for privacy), who told Global Voices on the phone, “We need accountable leadership, not parental figures. We don’t need ‘Aunty Jenny.’ We need a leader willing to face uncomfortable truths and redistribute power, not just resources.”
In a region where colonial legacies still shape gendered power, however, Geerlings-Simons’ win cannot be understated, not just for Suriname, but for the wider Caribbean, where, although women lead movements, households, and institutions, they often remain underrepresented at the highest levels of political life.
Achieving gender equality, however, requires transformative institutional change, not just representation.
Feminist foreign policy
While women's leadership in the Caribbean and South America has opened doors for new ideas and stronger democratic norms, it has also revealed limits. In Chile, for instance, Michelle Bachelet delivered gender reforms but faced backlash; at various points in her political career, Barbados’s Mia Mottley faced intense scrutiny and resistance from both her political opponents and those within her party’s ranks. Laura Chinchilla in Costa Rica and Xiomara Castro in Honduras both brought renewed attention to democracy and human rights, but systemic inertia proved difficult to break.
Nevertheless, a woman leader with a commitment to transparency could elevate Suriname’s reputation internationally. Joining international forums, managing oil deals — the country has recently come into major offshore oil deposits — and forging partnerships relating to climate, gender, and economic inclusion are tasks where feminist diplomacy has the potential to redefine Suriname’s foreign policy.
Alberg, a 48-year-old market vendor, recalled feeling “proud hearing a woman is likely to lead us […] a woman like us, finally in charge.” She qualified the statement, however, by adding, “But pride isn’t the same as trust.”
The shadow of Bouterse
For some, Geerlings-Simons’ win brings unease. The NDP party remains haunted by the ghost of Desi Bouterse — military strongman, convicted drug trafficker, and central figure in the infamous December Murders case that brought so much trauma to the country. Hilde Neus, a lecturer at the University Anton de Kom in Paramaribo, told Global Voices that Geerlings-Simons’ decision – “as a doctor” – to “align [her]self with a murderer [was] absolutely impossible to understand.”
By emphasising the rule of law and democratic integrity, Geerlings-Simons has tried to distance herself from Bouterse’s legacy, but critics, like economist Guillermo Samson, warn that the NDP’s core remains unchanged. Trust, they say, must be earned.
Either way, Suriname’s political gamble is a bold one: voters have chosen a familiar face with a rebranded message. According to the university lecturer, whether that gamble pays off will depend on how the new president governs, not just what she promises: “She is good with words, and her plans promise a prosperous Suriname. However, I remain critical.”
Oil, opportunity, and oversight
The stakes are high. The offshore oil discoveries, for instance, expected to bring production online by 2028, are poised to reshape the country’s economy. Given the ways in which the climate crisis has been affecting the region at large and Suriname in particular, however, oil can be as much a curse as it is a blessing.
To steer the country away from a petro-state future, Geerlings-Simons must navigate this boom with transparency and the public interest in mind. She has already warned that without strict oversight, “20 families in Suriname [could become] billionaires and the rest of the country left in the gutters,” but critics counter that pointing fingers at vast oil promises may distract from accountability within her own ranks.
An opinion piece in Waterkant labelled the NDP a “niet-democratische partij” (non-democratic party), accusing it of sowing censorship, twisting facts, and even burning media houses during the 1980s. How Geerlings‑Simons reconciles this history may well define her presidency. It remains to be seen whether she will stem the tide of book bans and censorship, tactics wrapped in nationalism and moral panic that threaten free expression and block space for diverse voices. Just as relevant is the role of the Surinamese press in holding power to account and asking hard questions.
Whichever way her tenure plays out, the fact that Jennifer Geerlings-Simons has made it to Suriname’s presidential palace will linger. From little girls in Paramaribo imagining what's possible for them in the future, to activists wondering about how the country might change for the better, her election has already expanded what’s imaginable.
Suriname stands on the threshold of something new, and while representation is powerful, many Surinamese feel that it must be paired with justice. Whether Geerlings-Simons’ election signifies a rebirth or a repetition depends entirely on how she wields the power with which she has been entrusted, and perhaps just as crucially, how she is held to account by the electorate that put her there.
