by: Alciann Samuels-Bennett
WESTMORELAND, Jamaica – Three days after Hurricane Melissa tore through Jamaica on October 28, 2025, I embarked on a journey to my family home in Farm District, Westmoreland- a small coastal community located northwest from the Sandals Whitehouse Resort. The decision to travel was made after careful consultation of national road clearance updates and social media reports. This led me to choose the South Coast route: Santa Cruz, Lacovia, Holland Bamboo, Middle Quarters, Brompton, Crawford, Whitehouse, Culloden, Porter, and finally, Farm.
The initial stages of the drive were deceptively easy. The highways, even as I entered Manchester, were clear and readily manoeuvrable. However, this ease was shattered upon reaching Spur Tree Hill. Here, the first harsh evidence of Melissa’s passage materialized: fallen and uprooted trees, and electrical light poles strewn across the landscape. The passage became a tiresome, drawn-out affair.
Heart-Breaking Destruction
The scene remained grim through Lacovia, but the destruction became deeply personal and heart-breaking along the once-iconic Holland Bamboo thoroughfare. Lengthy, unavoidable delays began here. Moving into Middle Quarters, a pervasive sense of despair set in. The roadways were inundated by high floodwaters. The roadsides were littered with debris, and the first sights of completely flattened houses appeared. The journey was no longer a transit. It was a slow march through a disaster zone.
This deepening unease continued from Middle Quarters into Brompton. Traffic was frequently reduced to a single, slow lane, inching past debris.
The true horror and magnitude of the catastrophe struck with full force as we approached the border between St. Elizabeth and Westmoreland. Entering the area known as “Border,” the devastation was total. In the South Sea Park Housing Development, the concrete structures of the homes stood as empty shells. Their roofs, comprising neatly decked tiles and shingles, were entirely gone, scattered across the length of the development.
Sandals Whitehouse Community
The journey pressed on to Whitehouse Square. What unfolded here was incomprehensible. The visible sea extended into the town, which looked as though a tsunami and a tornado had struck simultaneously. Residents walked aimlessly, locked in a gaze of total dismay, disbelief, and shock. Moving to the adjacent community of Culloden, the sight was disturbing. Large, once-lush seaside houses now stood stripped of their roofs. Their concrete frames presented a stark memory of past glory. Even the immediate shoreline near the Sandals Whitehouse community showed dramatic deterioration.
Then came Porter. This community, largely comprised of board house structures, was simply unrecognizable. The majority, if not all, of these homes were downed, everything flattened into an unrecognizable rubble.
Total Destruction
Finally, I reached my home-Farm District. The devastation here was absolute. Total, total destruction. Every home, as far as I could see, was blown flat and reduced to rubble. I actually drove past the turn-off to my father’s house, ending up in Bushy Park, as Farm lay as a wasteland.
My childhood home, where I grew up over 30 years ago, was unrecognizable. The only thing offering a false sense of security was the standing concrete facade at the front. The true horror lay at the back. Everything from the front of the house-bedrooms, living and dining rooms, kitchen; had been violently blown backward, leaving a massive, crumbled heap of destruction in the yard. My father’s shed, a historical family relic house, and his entire pig farm were flattened.
The loss of tree cover meant that every house on the hillside was now visible, a panoramic view of shared catastrophe.
The immediate challenges are overwhelming. The complete disarray of property suggests that boundary surveys will be necessary for rebuilding. My family, like so many others, faces an uncertain future. They need essential aid now: safety boots for the clean-up, food, safe drinking water, and proper waste disposal. With local sources of groceries destroyed, survival at this point depends on external help.
Personal Experience
The message now must be loud and clear: while St. Elizabeth suffered greatly, I implore decision-makers to focus their eyes on Westmoreland. Based on my personal experience and anecdotal account, not a single community in the parish is untouched.
My sister resides in Three Miles River, and the devastation is equally there. Everything is a blur, a painful replay of what was and what is. Immediate and sustained relief efforts are desperately needed for the people of Farm and all residents of Westmoreland.
