The phone won’t stop ringing. Each call brings new urgency, new worry, new pain.
Yackeisha Weir, the President of the Jamaican Association of Bermuda, is trying to remain composed — but her voice trembles beneath her strength. She is thousands of miles away from home… and she has not heard from her family.
Her children. Her parents. Loved ones. All in Jamaica — all directly in the path of Category 5 Hurricane Melissa. A storm so powerful it sat over the island, tearing through saturated soil and infrastructure that simply could not withstand the weight of its rage.
“It looked like a bomb detonated…”
When asked for her first thoughts after seeing the early footage, she doesn’t hesitate: “My initial thought is that it was absolutely catastrophic. It would appear as if a bomb had detonated on the island. It’s heart-wrenching… frightening to even watch.”
Weir describes the anxiety of watching helplessly from afar — the panic attacks, the inability to focus, the overwhelming fear that comes with the unknown. Even government-trusted shelters suffered damage. “Some individuals didn’t even have the opportunity to seek shelter. Those who did — some shelters were also impacted. That was not anticipated.”
• Entire coastlines changed forever
Weir lists the worst-hit parishes — St. Elizabeth, Clarendon, St. James, Westmoreland, and Hanover — the western end of the island, where the landscape has been ripped apart. She knows this trauma intimately: “I’ve had my roof blown off twice during hurricanes — Ivan and Dean — and I was pregnant both times. I can truly empathize.” This is why she refuses to give in to fear. Her message is one of collective survival.
• Bermuda reaches out Support is already on its way. “My phone has been blowing up. People asking, ‘How can we support Jamaica?’ The Bermuda Union of Teachers has reached out to help. We welcome every bit of support.”
But she acknowledges the harsh reality:
“Media hasn’t even seen the total devastation. Many areas are unreachable. I am prepared because giving up is not an option.” “Open your doors to the vulnerable.” Weir passionately calls upon community humanity: “Some are now homeless. I ask the community: Open your doors… Offer shelter…
Food and shelter are the greatest needs right now.” Resilience is a Jamaican birthright — but strength still needs somewhere to sleep.
• Rebuilding stronger — not just rebuilding
Weir believes this disaster must reshape national planning: “I do think it’s time to revisit the building codes. Jamaica’s infrastructure can withstand strong winds — but water catchment needs change.” She points to Bermuda’s system:
“Most water tanks in Jamaica are on roofs — and many were blown away.
We need underground water tanks built into the foundation. That’s safer. That’s sustainable.” She pauses, heart in her throat… Her final message is for every Jamaican — both at home and abroad: “Seek help. Do not give up.We are resilient.
If we work collectively, we will restore our country.” Then, even through the fear, she smiles.
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