There was a time in Anguilla when the only surveillance system we knew was Miss Iris by her window and Uncle Leon sitting on his gallery after 6 p.m. If you went “dung South Hill doin’ X, Y and Z”, rest assured somebody’s aunty saw you. In many ways, that still holds true. We pride ourselves on being a small island where everybody knows everybody — or at least knows somebody who knows them.
And yet, in recent years, that familiar refrain has rung hollow when it comes to crime.
To repeat that Anguilla has experienced a noticeable rise in criminal activity, particularly gun-related incidents, may feel like labouring at this point. But it is a reality that has unsettled the national psyche. For all our supposed closeness, when shots ring out or vehicles speed from a scene, the silence that follows can be deafening – yet often complicated. Loyalty to friends or family, fear for personal safety, and lingering mistrust in institutions can sometimes make speaking up feel risky even with the anonymous reporting avenues the Royal Anguilla Police Force has in place. Still, there is a growing sense that neighbourly watchfulness alone is no longer enough.
Enter CCTV.
Many banks, supermarkets and private businesses have operated their own camera systems. What we have not had are government-operated surveillance cameras mounted across public roads and spaces as a permanent fixture of island life. That is now set to change.
At a Government press conference – held on 23rd March 2026 – the Hon. Minister Jose Vanterpool revealed that a “major technical meeting” had taken place involving MICUHITES, Finance, the Royal Anguilla Police Force, I.T. and E-Government Services and Digital. The focus was not merely on putting up cameras, but on finalising system specifications — camera locations, backup power, data storage and AI analytics — with an eye on strengthening security ahead of the Anguilla Summer Festival.
Importantly, the Minister acknowledged a truth often lost in heated debates: “We know that cameras themselves don’t stop crimes. But when crimes do take place, it’s a source of evidence.” That distinction matters. CCTV is not a magical shield; it is a tool. Its value lies less in prevention and more in detection, deterrence and accountability.
The proposed system goes far beyond grainy footage stored on a hard drive. Automatic number plate recognition is among the features being considered. As the Minister explained, cameras must have sufficient frame speed to clearly capture a vehicle in motion and the ability to zoom at distance. In practical terms, if police receive a report that a black car fled a particular area between certain times, officers could filter footage to identify all black vehicles passing that point within that window.
There is also talk of AI-driven pattern tracking. At large public events — J’ouvert, for example — cameras could monitor crowd behaviour and flag unusual changes that might indicate conflict before a 9-1-1 call is ever placed. Rather than relying on an officer to manually scrub through hours of footage, artificial intelligence could assist in highlighting moments of concern. As the Minister noted, previous temporary carnival cameras required constant human monitoring — a resource Anguilla simply does not have in abundance.
Around the world, CCTV has become a standard feature of modern life. Cities like London are often cited as among the most surveilled in the democratic world, with extensive public camera networks used to assist policing and counter-terrorism efforts. Studies in the United Kingdom have shown that CCTV can have a modest but meaningful impact on certain types of crime, particularly vehicle-related offences in car parks. However, research has also suggested that cameras alone do not significantly reduce violent crime without broader policing strategies and community engagement.
That nuance is important for Anguilla. We are not London. We do not have millions of residents or sprawling underground networks. We are a small island of just over 15,000 people, where familiarity and informality shape daily life. The psychological shift may be as significant as the technological one.
Some residents will likely welcome the added layer of security, particularly in the wake of incidents that have shaken public confidence. The knowledge that there is an objective record — that a vehicle’s licence plate can be traced, that movements can be reconstructed — may offer reassurance.
Others will understandably raise concerns about privacy and overreach.
To that end, Minister Vanterpool indicated that consultation has already begun with the Attorney General’s Chambers and that legislation will be required to govern access and data protection. “Not everyone will be able to access the recordings,” he said, emphasising that protocols will dictate who can request footage and under what circumstances. The cameras, he stressed, will be deployed in public areas and are “largely for the protection of the public”, not for intrusion into private lives.
Still, the boundaries will need to be clearly drawn and transparently communicated. Who stores the data? For how long? Under what legal threshold can footage be accessed? Will AI be able to make detections accurately? What safeguards prevent issues? In larger jurisdictions, data protection laws and independent oversight bodies help answer such questions. Anguilla will need frameworks suited to our scale but robust enough to inspire confidence.
In the initial phase, 30 locations across the island are expected to receive cameras. The exact cost has not yet been disclosed.
So, what does all this mean for us?
It means Anguilla is stepping into a new era — one where our traditional social surveillance is supplemented by digital oversight. It means that the phrase “somebody saw you” may increasingly refer not just to a neighbour, but to a lens mounted above a junction.
Will we get accustomed to it? Likely, yes. Around the world, public CCTV has moved from novelty to normality within a generation.
But acceptance should not equal complacency.
If CCTV is to become part of Anguilla’s landscape, it must do so with clarity of purpose, legal safeguards and measurable outcomes. We should ask not only whether cameras are installed, but whether they lead to improved detection rates, swifter justice and ultimately, safer communities.
Technology can support policing, but it cannot replace trust, cooperation and the moral courage to speak up.
By Janissa Fleming
