Five days after Hurricane Melissa pummelled into western Jamaica with record force, residents in devastated communities along the coast are still desperately waiting for help. Many of the roads are blocked by debris and people are isolated with little food, no power or running water, and no idea of when normalcy will return.
The government said on Saturday that at least 28 people in Jamaica have died since the hurricane hit as a monster category five storm with 185 mph (297km/h) sustained winds. That is a near 50% jump in the death toll overnight, and the number could rise as officials clear their way into new parts of the island in the coming days.
Local official Dr Dayton Campbell told the BBC 10 of those deaths were in Westmoreland. Westmoreland parish is believed to have the second highest number of unconfirmed deaths, after St Elizabeth to the southeast. The eye of the storm hit somewhere between the two neighbouring parishes. At St Elizabeth, an estimated 90% of homes have been destroyed.
A long stretch of road headed west into Westmoreland Parish winds through a graveyard of trees – stacks of branches and limbs, cracked and twisted, blanketing the landscape for miles. It is grim evidence of Hurricane Melissa's ferocity - it was the strongest storm to strike the Caribbean island in modern history.
Piles of debris are heaped on the parish's roadsides, next to battered buildings, shipping crates turned on their side and crowds of people wading through the destruction. On Saturday morning, men with machetes hacked through branches as thick as their arms, clearing patches of the road where traffic jams were at a standstill.
Residents of Whitehouse, a coastal town and commercial hub on the edge of Westmoreland Parish, say the wait for assistance is becoming frustrating. Gary Williams said he has heard promises of incoming aid delivery, but they no turn up. He sat in the shade on a makeshift stool in front of a building barely standing – its entire roof gone – unsure of what to do next.
Many locals express a feeling of hopelessness. About 400,000 people in Jamaica were reported to be without power as of Friday, and many have no access to cell phone service or Wi-Fi, cut off from the outside world. While Jamaica's Prime Minister Andrew Holness has vowed to focus on clearing debris and restoring essential services, the effectiveness of the government's response faces scrutiny.
In a tiny community just outside of Whitehouse, Robert Morris rested against a slab of broken concrete, lamenting the destruction of his fishing village. We just have to try and see what we can do, he said, noting that he lost everything, including his fishing boat. Yet, amidst the devastation, locals like Oreth Jones, a farmer who still sells the last of his produce, maintain their resilience: Can't give up. Not gonna give up.
As international aid begins to trickle in, including support from the U.S. and UK, residents cling to hope that normalcy will return soon.
The government said on Saturday that at least 28 people in Jamaica have died since the hurricane hit as a monster category five storm with 185 mph (297km/h) sustained winds. That is a near 50% jump in the death toll overnight, and the number could rise as officials clear their way into new parts of the island in the coming days.
Local official Dr Dayton Campbell told the BBC 10 of those deaths were in Westmoreland. Westmoreland parish is believed to have the second highest number of unconfirmed deaths, after St Elizabeth to the southeast. The eye of the storm hit somewhere between the two neighbouring parishes. At St Elizabeth, an estimated 90% of homes have been destroyed.
A long stretch of road headed west into Westmoreland Parish winds through a graveyard of trees – stacks of branches and limbs, cracked and twisted, blanketing the landscape for miles. It is grim evidence of Hurricane Melissa's ferocity - it was the strongest storm to strike the Caribbean island in modern history.
Piles of debris are heaped on the parish's roadsides, next to battered buildings, shipping crates turned on their side and crowds of people wading through the destruction. On Saturday morning, men with machetes hacked through branches as thick as their arms, clearing patches of the road where traffic jams were at a standstill.
Residents of Whitehouse, a coastal town and commercial hub on the edge of Westmoreland Parish, say the wait for assistance is becoming frustrating. Gary Williams said he has heard promises of incoming aid delivery, but they no turn up. He sat in the shade on a makeshift stool in front of a building barely standing – its entire roof gone – unsure of what to do next.
Many locals express a feeling of hopelessness. About 400,000 people in Jamaica were reported to be without power as of Friday, and many have no access to cell phone service or Wi-Fi, cut off from the outside world. While Jamaica's Prime Minister Andrew Holness has vowed to focus on clearing debris and restoring essential services, the effectiveness of the government's response faces scrutiny.
In a tiny community just outside of Whitehouse, Robert Morris rested against a slab of broken concrete, lamenting the destruction of his fishing village. We just have to try and see what we can do, he said, noting that he lost everything, including his fishing boat. Yet, amidst the devastation, locals like Oreth Jones, a farmer who still sells the last of his produce, maintain their resilience: Can't give up. Not gonna give up.
As international aid begins to trickle in, including support from the U.S. and UK, residents cling to hope that normalcy will return soon.
