Western Jamaica Begins Long Recovery After Devastating Category 5 Hurricane Melissa

Western Jamaica Begins Long Recovery After Devastating Category 5 Hurricane Melissa

The air in western Jamaica is heavy with the smell of wet earth and drying mud. Smoke from small debris fires mixes with the faint diesel tang of the few generators that still have fuel, and every sound — the strike of hammers, the scrape of shovels — carries as people dig out and begin to rebuild after Hurricane Melissa.

Reporters visited the hardest-hit western parishes and the towns of Belmont, Black River and White House, where destruction is uneven but staggering: some neighborhoods are gutted while others appear untouched. The Category 5 storm tore roofs off homes and shattered windows, leaving people exposed to the elements and allowing storm surge reported at up to 16 feet to push far inland.

Belongings lie in the sun to dry in the hot, humid air. Survivors sift through wreckage, trying to make sense of what remains of their lives. Three-year-old Alessandra points to where her bed once stood. 'It’s all mash up,' she says with a small smile. Her mother, 26-year-old Alandrea Brown, walks among the ruins and says, 'We are very distressed. We really need some help because there are people who are homeless and we don’t have food supplies.'

Much of that assistance has not yet reached the worst-affected communities. In one neighborhood, a neighbor indicated a body lay uncollected inside a damaged house; a sheet covered the remains, a hand protruding from beneath it. There was no way to call for help — no phone signal and no road access — and reporters relayed the information to authorities once contact was possible.

Communities Respond while Aid Moves West

In Kingston and across the island's east, life continues as volunteers and supplies move west to repair infrastructure and revive the vital tourism and agricultural sectors. Jamaican officials raised the national death toll to 32 on Monday, and authorities caution that number will almost certainly increase as rescue teams reach isolated and devastated areas.

At night, western communities go quiet: no power, no running water, only insects and the distant hum of a generator. Damp mattresses are dragged indoors to sleep on. By day, long lines form at distribution points for fuel, food and clean water. Those without working taps turn to rivers or rainwater collection. Families wash clothes, fill buckets and recount their losses.

"I guess it doesn’t really hit us yet," said 40-year-old Simone Gardon. "After two weeks, when it’s all settled down and the hunger sets in…"

Neighbors have become first responders — moving fallen trees, lifting tangled wires and hammering tin over broken frames. They rebuild out of necessity, aware that formal help is coming but not arriving quickly enough.

Health Services Strained

In Black River, the region's main hospital is barely standing: rain leaks through the roof and corridors sit in darkness. Senior Medical Officer Dr. Sheriff Imoru, whose own home was destroyed, described the emotional strain: 'When I see this place, my hospital, it’s very difficult even to come through the gates in the mornings. But I have to.' He and his staff, many of whom lost their homes, continue to work; the emergency room operates without power or running water.

In a rare dry room, Shaniel Tomlin cradles her one-year-old son Jahmar, who sustained a head injury and is heavily bandaged. She holds a prescription but has nowhere to fill it. 'Everything’s gone,' she says, eyes filling with tears as the scale of recovery becomes clear.

Relief Efforts and Economic Concerns

From Kingston, trucks loaded with food, fuel and aid are making the slow trip west, sometimes sitting for hours as roads are cleared. Relief organizations including World Central Kitchen, Operation Blessing and Samaritan's Purse are on the ground, setting up kitchens and delivering water, with teams expected to remain for months. Officials and community leaders stress resilience and solidarity but warn that needs will outlast the initial response.

The tourism sector — a cornerstone of Jamaica's economy — is watching closely. Officials emphasize that much of the island, particularly the north and east, remains open as peak season approaches, but rebuilding in the hardest-hit western areas will take months and could have lasting economic effects.

When radio signals return, so do familiar sounds: music drifting across salt-scented air, roadside vendors frying fish on concrete where stalls once stood. The scent of smoke and the rhythm of song are small reminders of resilience among the devastation.

"We are Jamaicans," one man shouts. "We are strong." The winds and waters have receded, but the scars remain — and in western Jamaica, the long work of recovery is only beginning.

Reporting contributed by Rachel Clarke and Michael Rios.