SOUTH FLORIDA – After a hurricane — especially one as destructive as Hurricane Melissa — the real storm begins after the winds die down. For small developing countries like Jamaica, recovery is not just about rebuilding structures; it’s about rebuilding lives. How quickly we respond as a people and a government will determine how our citizens survive, sustain, and recover from this tragedy.
The Hard Truths
Let’s begin with the homes.
Most Jamaicans whose houses have been flattened or severely damaged do not carry hurricane insurance — many have no insurance at all. These are people who spent years, sometimes decades, building their homes brick by brick, or inherited them from their parents and grandparents. When those homes are gone, they lose not just shelter, but history, security, and dignity. Their lives begin again from nothing.
Many of these families are caring for children, older parents, or both. They had nowhere to go before the storm, so they stayed — and some lost limbs, loved ones, or everything they owned. When the skies cleared, they were left with nothing but faith.
Now, survival depends on access to the basics: food, clean water, and healthcare. But with hospitals overcrowded and resources stretched thin, even a simple cut or contaminated water can turn deadly. Crops have been destroyed, shops are closed, and families are running out of food. Relief lines become their lifeline — but for how long? Two weeks? Three weeks? What happens after the donations slow down?
Public Health and Human Need
Floodwaters have contaminated rivers and wells, mixing sewage and debris with drinking water. Our healthcare system, already strained before the hurricane, is now expected to serve not hundreds, but entire parishes of people in crisis.
And in the midst of this, older people — many living alone — face hunger, isolation, and uncertainty. Their children may be overseas or in Kingston, unable to reach them. Who will check on them, feed them, or even bring them a cup of clean water?
Then there are the children. We have only just begun recovering from the educational and emotional losses of COVID-19. Now, with schools damaged and displaced communities, Hurricane Melissa threatens to disrupt learning again. The long-term impact could echo for years if we do not act swiftly.
The Government’s Charge
Act with urgency and transparency.
Set clear timelines to restore water, electricity, roads, and communication to all communities. Without these, as my mother would say, “the devil finds work for idle hands.”
Work through the nights if you must. Budget the funds wisely. Prioritize rebuilding infrastructure, supporting farmers, reopening small businesses, and strengthening public services. The pace and discipline of your response will determine whether recovery brings hope or hardship.
The Diaspora’s Charge
Understand that rebuilding after a disaster is not a sprint — it’s a marathon.
Philanthropy is most powerful when it is organized, transparent, and coordinated. We cannot lose momentum, or we will fail the people we claim to care for. Let us plan medical missions, food drives, and school rebuilding efforts. Let’s extend help beyond the familiar — to the communities we rarely see or hear about. They need us now more than ever.
Final Reflection
This is our moment — as Jamaicans at home and abroad — to rise beyond charity and toward compassion in action.
Our brothers and sisters in Westmoreland, St. Elizabeth, Manchester, and across the southern belt are counting on us. Their struggle is not theirs alone; it is Jamaica’s collective test of humanity.
Let us not wait for permission to care. Let us move together — quickly, humbly, and with purpose — to restore not just homes, but hope.
