I asked a family member where they were making their contribution to the Hurricane recovery effort. They told me of two sisters “down the road” who were packing up their truck and heading for St Elizabeth. It wasn’t their first trip. My relative said they purchased food and other goods and took them to these women, whom they know and trust, confident that the supplies would be delivered that day. You and I know about similar efforts, and there are plenty more than those we know about, organized by individuals, neighbourhoods, small foundations, churches, community and other associations. 

This on-the ground mobilization is good for many reasons. The diasporas and foreign agencies may be eager to contribute, but gathering supplies, getting them ready for airlifting, taking them to airports, unloading them, then getting them to where they are needed—all of that takes time. Collecting, distributing and keeping proper account of money is also a slow-moving process. If you’re in JA, you pack your vehicle with supplies, set out in the morning, and, as hard a drive as it may be, the items of food, water, soap, toothpaste, toilet paper, sanitary pads etc., can reach before night come down. It’s true, as a friend pointed out, that some of the humanitarians have cameras filming them so they can post the footage on social media, or they jostle to get interviewed by news agencies. I told her if those who had been devastated got even some of their needs met, I could live with vanity. After all, Qoheleth says, “Vanity of vanities—all is vanity.” I said I hoped some people would form relationships: church with church, farmer with farmer, youth with youth.

We both agreed that support for recovery had to last over months and years.

If events causing havoc in a large country nearby have taught us anything, it is that, however busy we are with the pressures of our daily lives, we can’t count on our leaders to run tings, for too often de tings run way wid dem—money vanish (ask Usain); oversight vanish; justice vanish; decency, honesty and truth vanish. Next ting you know, everyting gone, and so much chaos up de-so, man lucky if him can find him foot fi put shoes on, for tief in high places run way with foot and shoes. Plenty things work better when ordinary people take matters in hand, especially when those matters immediately affect them same ordinary people. Community groups like credit unions, teachers’ associations, sports clubs, agricultural organizations, church societies and similar grass roots institutions have a long history of making things happen in Jamaica. Perhaps it’s time to start building through the networks they provide. 

Think of the people in Compound, Alligator Pond, who kept the roofs of their houses on by anchoring them with ropes attached to sandbags and building blocks. Along came Melissa with her big, bad Category Five Hurricane self and, guess what? The roofs stayed on. What if they’d spread the idea up and down the coastline? Who knows how many homes might have been spared? Not blaming them, just saying we need to start thinking of networking to get things done as a way of life.

Nothing like determined, combined local effort.

Above all the number of lives lost is obscene. Jamaicans should ensure it never happens again. What if folks who lived in hazardous locations, by pre-existing agreement, promised to move when told to evacuate? What if, to encourage this agreement, parsons, teachers, policepersons, nurses, doctors, farmers, and all community leaders had continuing conversations about why it’s important to move from low-lying areas when a hurricane is coming? What if older people who’ve experienced hurricanes talked to youth who haven’t, about what hurricanes are like? Granted that Melissa was a Category Three storm when it hit Cuba and was a Category Five storm when it made landfall in Jamaica, no Cuban lives were lost, because the Cuban government evacuated 735,000 people. That’s plenty people, but if it saves just one life, isn’t it worth it? 

This is now a world in which “hand holding hand” is the only way we will survive, for sadly, those in charge of us (Lord knows how they got there, or did we elect them?) seem concerned about their business, not ours. No mind we pay them huge salaries, they’re playing dominoes on the shop piazza, gambling with our money, instead of doing their jobs. We need to choose better politicians to lead us. As for the bureaucrats? If they can’t be fired, we must pray for them to be offered tempting jobs elsewhere. Jamaicans will have to take a long-term view of things and acquire an across-the-board set of planning and executive skills or know where to find them. It’s not an impossible task. It had better not be.