Lines of frustration, aftermath of chaos

THE EDITOR, Madam:

It has been over two weeks since Hurricane Melissa tore through Jamaica. And yet, the storm’s impact is far from over. Banks, automated teller machines, and remittance offices such as Western Union and MoneyGram remain overwhelmed. The lines stretch endlessly. Hours pass. Patience wears thin.

People wait under the sun, in the rain, shifting from foot to foot, murmuring, muttering, and sighing. Some clutch their wallets as if the money inside could vanish at any moment. Others check their phones repeatedly, hoping for a miracle that the system is finally back online. And yet, the outages persist.

Digicel and Flow services break down frequently, Internet slows to a crawl, power flickers. Even the simplest transactions are now tests of endurance. Businesses struggle. Salaries are delayed. Students cannot pay fees. Farmers cannot send or receive payments. The ripple effects of one storm are felt across the economy, across lives.

I hear the conversations in the lines. “How long must we wait?” “Why do they always take down the system at the worst time?” “Is anyone thinking about us?” These are not complaints; they are survival questions. People want to live, work, pay their bills, and carry on. And they cannot.

Yet, even amid the chaos, small acts of humanity shine through. A stranger hands a bottle of water to an elderly man. Families share spots in line. Neighbours offer words of encouragement. It is a reminder that resilience is not just about systems, it is about people.

But the larger questions remain: Why are our banks, money transfer systems, and service providers so fragile? Why do we still rely on single points of failure, outdated infrastructure, and limited disaster planning? Solar power, satellite internet, and emergency-ready systems are not luxuries; they are necessities. We cannot afford to wait until the next storm to realise it.

Melissa was a wake-up call. And, two weeks later, as we still queue, as we still wait, it is clear that lessons have not yet been fully learnt. Action is urgent. Accountability is past due. Strategic investment in resilient infrastructure has been long neglected.

This is a moment to rethink, to rebuild, and to prioritise. Jamaica’s strength has always been its people, but our people cannot carry the weight of fragile systems alone. If Hurricane Melissa taught us anything, it is that we endure, we adapt, and we rise again; one line at a time, one day at a time.

AARON PRINCE