A Plea in the Storm: We Cannot Look Away
My friends, my fellow Jamaicans, allies and friends of Jamaica.
Today, the hurricane has a name, and it is Melissa.
Today, the ocean did not stop at the shore nor did it pass on the high seas. It marched inland, swallowing streets, homes, and lifetimes of memory. Today, the sky turned from blue to a furious, unforgiving gray, and a Category 5 hurricane named Melissa made landfall.
And the world, for those in its path, has stopped.
As we sit in the safety of our homes, scrolling through images of unimaginable devastation, we must understand what this means. A Category 5 is not just a storm. It is a force of nature’s absolute fury. It is roofs torn from houses like petals from a flower. It is streets transformed into raging rivers. It is the towering, ancient trees that have weathered a hundred seasons, now splintered and thrown aside like matchsticks.
But listen to me – this is not just about property. This is about people.
Right now, a mother is clutching her children in a darkened shelter, praying the roof will hold. A grandfather is looking at the ruins of a home he built with his own hands, a lifetime of labor gone in an afternoon. A family is waiting for word from a loved one they couldn’t reach. Their fear is a living thing. Their loss is a chasm that has just opened at their feet.
This is the human face of Hurricane Melissa. And we cannot, we must not, look away.
The storm has passed, but the crisis is just beginning. Now comes the thirst for clean water. The gnawing hunger. The desperate search for medicine, for shelter, for a single blanket against the chilling night. Now comes the long, slow, painful climb out of the rubble.
This is our moment. This is the test of our shared humanity.
We are being called upon – not by a government or an organization, but by our own conscience to be the calm after the storm. To be the hand that reaches into the wreckage and pulls a neighbor to safety. To be the voice that says, “You are not alone.”
We need you. We need your compassion, and we need your action.
· If you can give a dollar, give it. That dollar becomes a bottle of water.
· If you can give an hour, volunteer it. That hour becomes a hot meal for a family.
· If you can share this plea, share it. Your voice becomes a beacon, calling others to help.
· If you can pray, pray with all your might. Send your strength, your hope, your light into that darkness.
Do not underestimate the power of a single act of kindness. In the face of a monster storm, it may seem small. But together, our small acts form a levee against despair. Together, we can be the architects of recovery.
The story of Hurricane Melissa is still being written. The first chapters are written in wind and water and fear. But the next chapters? They are ours to write. Let us write them in acts of courage, in streams of generosity, and in the unbreakable bond of people helping people.
The sun will rise again on the battered coast. Let us ensure it rises on a community already feeling the warmth of our support.
Please, do not wait. The time to help is now.
David Betty President of the JCA
