Melissa yanks the covers

It is said that a wise man builds his house on the rock, and a foolish man builds his upon the sands. For, in the event of a storm, the house on the rock will stand, but the house on the sand will crumble to pieces.

In 2007, Hurricane Dean proved this to be true when the dream houses built on the sands at Caribbean Terrace in Saint Andrew were decimated and partially washed away by that Category 3 storm.

Fast forward to October 28, 2025, when the super-powerful Category 5 Hurricane Melissa, with the fury of a woman scorned, mangled the western side of this fair isle. She took no prisoners, leaving the region in a shambles that no Jamaican alive had ever seen. The apocalyptic scenes that western Jamaica residents, some battered and bruised, witnessed on the morning of Wednesday, October 29 were beyond imagination.

Jamaica’s main tourism and agricultural belt suddenly became an attraction that evoked every negative emotion. Historical edifices were blown to bits and consigned to the history books. Grand and not-so-grand hotels were stripped bare. Monstrous trees, denuded by Melissa, were uprooted and broken. The people too were broken—in mind, body, and pocket – for Melissa had also uprooted their lives.

Beaches, strewn with debris from land and sea, had taken over some roads, exposing the sands of time. Hundreds of residential properties, both sublime and humble, were annihilated. Once majestic utility poles, standing like eternal sentinels, were brought down to earth, splintered and powerless. Roads in some places became water channels, a manifestation of the sheer power of water.

Desperate Settlements

The unspeakable loss, the sadness, the sorrow, and the pain Melissa left in her wake were profound. She herself is long gone, not around to comfort a soul, having accomplished her mission on Earth. Yet, before she departed in her angry passion, she forcefully yanked the covers from the housing crisis that poor people have faced since 1838, when slavery was abolished.

Most of the newly freed people had no option but to remain on ‘buckra maasa’ land, working for a pittance. Others were settled in ‘free villages’, on the least-productive arable lands. As time evolved, their landless descendants established themselves on unoccupied lands or those abandoned by the plantocracy. Since then, these occupiers have been branded ‘squatters’, living on ‘capture’ land.

There were those who could not find suitable spaces to set up their homes, yet sought to engender a sense of pride. Desperately, they went to gully sides, riverbanks, waterless riverbeds, unstable hillsides, mountainsides, flood-prone valleys and basins, beaches, mangroves, morasses, and swamps to erect structures in which to live and from which to operate small businesses. It was ambition and pride.

It was not only poor people who went to these places to manifest their pride. Those with money erected massive structures – multi-storey, multi-room residences—some of which have remained unfinished for decades. The land was ‘free’, and building codes were flouted across the length and breadth of the country. So, why not build? The ‘dream’ house must become a reality.

Now, when natural phenomena such as Gilbert, Ivan, Dean, Beryl, and Melissa are forecast, they turn up their noses, saying they have nowhere else to go, and that the storms will not come anyway, because Jamaica, this legendary piece of rock, is God-blessed. Pennywise, pound foolish.

As these relentless ‘missiles’ of wind and water rage, exposing foolhardiness, desperation, poverty, and damaging dreams and pride, they leave communities shattered, scattered, and submerged. Yet, the passage of Melissa and those before her has been furiously declaring, loud and clear, that no one should be living in places prone to man-made and natural disasters.

The elements have been calling out successive governments, too, advising them in no uncertain terms that they need to enforce the relevant laws. When nature strikes unapologetically, governments should not be scurrying all over the place, at home and abroad, seeking assistance for people—rich and poor—who lack awareness, or simply do not care, that certain places, such as sea sides, swamps, morasses, and mangrove forests, are not suitable for human habitation, storm season or not.

The housing crisis in Jamaica has been ignored for decades, covered up by the people and successive governments. Now, Melissa has ripped the covers to shreds, blowing away foolish pride and myopic dreams, and leaving hope that the people and the government will finally come to their senses.

editorial@gleanerjm.com