Hurricane Gustav

Yesterday was the anniversary of one of the worst days or rather, nights of my life. For that was when hurricane Gustav totally destroyed my backyard, taking away trees, soil the doghouse everything that lay within about six inches of my bedroom and scared the living daylights out of me to boot!.

Like most Jamaicans, I never even prepared for Gustav as it had been downgraded to a mere storm. In fact, my reaction to a friend’s query about my level of preparation was ‘Cho, is jus a dibby dibby storm, not even a hurricane”. Well I am here to tell you that this dibby dibby storm did more damage to my property and my psyche than all the Gilberts, Deans, Ivan's combined.

My trauma started around midnight on the night of the 27th August 2008, when my tenant phoned me telling me that the backyard was covered with water. Being aroused from a very sound sleep, I thanked him and went back to sleep. Hardly had I gotten in to second gear of my sleep when the phone rang again. This time he sounded frantic as he repeated with great emphasis, what he had said earlier. Reluctantly I looked thorough the window and was immediately roused as I saw nothing but water in the back yard..... no ackee tree, no three bedroom dog house, no lime tree, nothing but water. Quickly putting on some clothes, I rushed round the back of the yard and immediately realized the danger, since the gully wall had disappeared, part of my neithgbour’s house which had been extended up to the gully wall had disappeared and I realized that only about 6 inches of land lay between my bedroom and about 20 feet of water. I called my neihbour to tell him what was happening to his house and immediately got my tenants out and we all walked up the road to my good friend Sunshine for refuge. I had become a refugee!

Well let me tell you, I certainly did not sleep that night as I kept wondering if I would find any sign of my house next day and thinking the worse, since I had left the house without any clothes and or without stopping to take any important documents.

The night seemed todrag on forever. The next day when I ventured home, all I could say was Thank God when I realized that no damage had been done to the house, but where I once had a backyard was nothing but a deep chasm, meaning that if I went behind the house and took a false step, that would be the end of it.

Well in Jamaica, we have a saying that “Good fren betta dan pocket money” and I am here to tell you there is not truer thing. For all my friends rallied and offered their assistance in any way that I required.

All the politicians came looking, the Mayor, the Councilor and the Member of Parliament and all declared that it was the worse damage they had seen and immediate action would have to be taken to prevent further damage. And guess what, I beleived them! So for the next few weeks I called the National Works Agency (NWA) to find out when they would be repairing the wall and remove the danger that we taxpayers faced. ...my two neighbours and I .

In the meantime, my yard became a regular tourist attraction with people from all over coming to look at the houses perched on the gully. After a few weeks of getting a run around from the NWA, I realised that the government may not make a move to deal with the situation in my lifetime, so I called in my good friend Howie who is a first class engineer and not only did he advise me what had to be done but also, he got the workers and supervised the job at absolutely no cost.

“Good fren betta dan pocket money" fi true.