Witnessing resilience through the lens of shared humanity

“The government might try to tape the edges back together (a temporary fix). Grassroots movements like HOV and Ubuntu Outreach are the community builders who step in ensuring the broken communities in Western Jamaica come back stronger than they were.” Simone Jennifer Smith

The cameras have long since packed up their tripods, and the news cycle has moved toward the next crisis, leaving behind a silence that is far from peaceful.

In the heart of Petersfield, Westmoreland, the air is thick with a question that remains largely unasked in our global discourse; what becomes of a person’s spirit when the “temporary” shelter they were promised becomes a site of impending eviction?

We often talk about recovery in terms of infrastructure: roads cleared, power grids restored, and roofs patched, but through my work with Hear 2 Help, and my alignment with the grassroots movements currently unfolding in Jamaica, I have come to realize that the most critical infrastructure is the human one. When a hurricane hits, it threatens the very sense of belonging and dignity that allows a community to function.

In Petersfield, the reality on the ground is layered and complex, becoming more glaring as time passes. There was the looming deadline of December 31^st, 2025, a date that should have signified a new beginning, but instead marked a terrifying end for the residents of the Petersfield High School Shelter. One hundred and eighty-five people, who have already lost everything to the storm, were being told they must leave. Among them is Tricia Cunningham, a woman holding a household of nine together, including a three-month-old and a one-month-old infant. Then there is Ali, a tour guide and a first responder with the HOV Mobile Disaster Dispatch Unit, who has spent seven weeks delivering aid to thousands, only to find himself with nowhere to go if the shelter closes its doors.

The unasked question here is why we require those in the deepest throes of trauma to be “resilient” before we offer them safety. As the sources remind us, it is not time to be resilient yet; it is time to help victims get back on their feet.

This is why I am so profoundly motivated by the work of Humanity Ova Vanity (HOV) and Ubuntu Outreach. These organizations are manifestations of a “community-first” lens that I strive to model in my own strategic storytelling. Donisha Prendergast and her team are not waiting for government intervention. They are actively implementing temporary housing solutions, such as Community Resilience Hubs made from pre-made container homes. These units offer a dignified and humane experience while permanent solutions are finalized, ensuring that families like Tricia’s have a safe, transitional space with social support.

We must shift our perspective from “temporary solutions” to “transitional solutions.” A tent is a temporary solution, but as noted by national leadership during visits to the shelter, it is often not a viable, or dignified one. A transitional solution, however, involves social workers, coordinated agencies, and an understanding of the “Response-Ability” of the government and private citizens alike.

My commitment to Hear 2 Help Jamaica is fueled by this very necessity. We have recently sent barrels to Chef Brian Lumley and his Ubuntu Outreach initiative, which operates on the profound African philosophy of “I am because you are.” Chef Lumley is reaching into the remote, isolated communities that larger relief efforts often overlook, areas where women, children, and the elderly face prolonged hardship due to damaged infrastructure.

True advocacy is about closing the curiosity gap between those who want to help and those who are suffering. It is about educating while informing. For instance, HOV has created a Community Resilience Recovery Toolkit, which includes needs-based assessment templates and shelter management protocols to guide others toward a more efficient and equitable response. This is about establishing purposefully built shelters and protocols so that Jamaicans are prioritized in disaster situations every year.

When we see Trishauna, a former shelter resident now living in an unleveled, leaking, two-bedroom structure with eleven other people, we must refuse to let this experience be normalized. New policies and protocols must be created to protect the people, and the infrastructure of the nation.

I do this work because I believe in lifting each other up. Our humanity is shared, and when one part of the collective is displaced, the entire structure is unstable. Whether it is through donating to raise the $100,000 USD needed for sustained support, or simply sharing the stories of those in Petersfield, we are participating in a movement of restoration.

We are refining our collective compassion through action. Let us not wait for the next storm to ask the questions that matter today.