Gratitude in the rubble

Despite the destruction, despair, and chaos left behind in Trelawny by Hurricane Melissa, residents who have suffered immense loss – including some now homeless – are expressing deep gratitude for life as they begin to make sense of their new reality.

Equally striking is the compassion of neighbours who, though spared the worst, have stepped in to help. Many opened their homes or made space in unused buildings, while others risked their lives to rescue those in danger as the Category Five storm raged, tearing off roofs and flooding streets.

Across the parish, the devastation is overwhelming: homes flattened, roads impassable, and entire communities caked in mud and debris. Light poles and trees lie strewn across yards; furniture and mattresses float in brown, foul-smelling water. Yet amid the ruin, stories of survival and solidarity stand out.

“[This is a] rough, rough time. Everything mi lose – fridge, TV, bed. Right now, mi nuh know how it a go guh. Nothing save,| said a Market Street resident in Falmouth, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Right now a di roughest time a mi life.”

He glanced toward his neighbours, staring silently at the rubble where their homes once stood.

“Everyone lose everything. ... Right now, wi nuh have no weh. A people affi put wi up, ‘bout three to four a wi inna one room weh wi never expect – but we affi dweet. But a just love.”

At 57, he had lived through Hurricane Gilbert but said this storm was worse.

“If mi did inna mi room mi wudda dead. Mi could never save inna dis,” recalling how he fled with only a sheet and one set of clothes after a neighbour, Sanjay, urged him to leave. “Mi just give thanks same way fi know say if mi did inna di house, mi woulda dead. Mi sure.”

He added that no one had yet reached out with assistance for them.

“Mi nuh see nobody yet. Unnu a di first mi see come check we,” he told the Sunday Gleaner team.

Sanjay, who had recently built a one-bedroom home, agreed with the assessment.

“It rough. A di wickedest ting mi ever feel from mi born,” he said.

Yet despite the devastation, he was thankful.

Nearby, Ann, who lived in a three-bedroom house with her daughter and four granddaughters, stood in disbelief.

“House gone, bed gone, everything,” she said.

Her neighbour had taken them in after the roof flew off.

“A di worse mi ever go through. Gilbert? Gilbert a baby to this one.”

Good Samaritan Ronique Edwards, 37, offered his new one-bedroom studio to four displaced neighbours.

“Dem all from the neighbourhood and mi pretty much have an empty house. The four of dem just lose dem home.”

He appealed for help on their behalf: “If each a dem can get a house or some money toward a house, that woulda good. Four people right now don’t have a house. Anyone who can lend a helping hand, just help. Mi have water, me can’t help the entire community, but me help as much as I can, and I have a generator, so dem have light fi now.”

Across the road, Joan Anderson, 59, was cleaning out her flooded home.

“Gilbert pass, but it go through so fast, so it never so bad. But this one weh did a linger, linger worse. All mi pressure go up. A di worst hurricane,” she said.

Smiling, she recalled the moments before the storm’s peak.

“We pray so till, but Melissa say, ‘hmmm’. Still, God have mercy.”

Anderson said that despite the hardship, the community had come together. Her teenage son had even left home mid-storm to help secure a neighbour’s roof.

“Mi don’t even know how him learn fi do dat,” she said proudly.

Over on Queen Street, Trishna Decambre, 39, a hotel worker, spoke with friends outside her damaged home.

“Mi roof gone [and] mi nuh have no clothes fi put on. Only thing mi grab a mi papers,” she said. But she said her neighbour offered her and her family shelter and expressed deep gratitude. “We want assistance in any way dem can, ‘cause nothing nuh too great right now.”

Nearby, Akeel Trench, 26, described how her small two-room house collapsed after a breadfruit tree fell on it. She, her young son, and her partner barely escaped.

“Mi cry. Eyewater drop out a mi eye. Wi nuh come from here and house hard fi get, so wi affi go start from scratch,” she said.

Her partner, Dwayne Campbell, a truck driver, explained that it was a neighbour who had given them a place to stay on the second floor of the building where they were standing.

“Right now, if a never dem, we wudden know where fi put we head,” he said.

The couple and others expressed frustration that no officials had visited.

“Mi hear say dem send message say dem cya pass Flat Bridge, but how di news team coulda reach?” Decambre asked.

In Salt Marsh, where the storm surge flooded several homes, 58-year-old Miss Green gave a tour of her mud-filled house. Despite the damage, she was calm.

“Me no even a worry because when me look and see some people no have nothing, me grateful,” she said.

She described how she and others were trapped in a neighbour’s house as floodwaters rose. A young man broke a board from the back window, helping them to escape.

“Mi think me drown,” she said, describing how they both fell into the neck-deep water and waded to a nearby two-storey house for safety.

“Mi feel say me did a go dead. Mi a say, ‘A it dis’, and mi did mek up mi mind (accepted fate). Dis a nuh Category 5 – dis a 10!”

Green added quietly, “Thank God it come inna di day. If a never day and did night it come, whole heap a people woulda dead.”

Seventy-year-old Lincoln Gouda, a retired municipal police officer and ex-soldier, was among those questioning the lack of official response.

“Seen that we have gone through this dilemma and not seeing any political representative coming to console di people or tell dem what in train fi get assistance, ... should we pick up di pieces of zinc and put dem back on and wait?” he asked.

tanesha.mundle@gleanerjm.com