In February 2026, ERDO visited its partner in Jamaica to discuss the next phase of recovery after Hurricane Melissa. ERDO’s Digital Communications Officer, Anita Lee, joined the trip and shares her reflections from the ground.
When the Headlines Fade: Recovery in Jamaica After Hurricane Melissa
The moment after the crisis
I travelled to Jamaica in February to support the filming of a Crossroads Cares television special documenting ERDO’s response to Hurricane Melissa. I knew the week would include interviews, logistics and storytelling, but we weren’t sure how much devastation we would see.
After all, we were arriving four months after Hurricane Melissa first made landfall in October 2025.
We often think of disasters in terms of moments. The storm hits the damage is done, and for a brief period, the world pays attention. Major news outlets cover the story. Images of destroyed homes and buildings circulate widely. Aid is mobilized, stories are shared and there is a sense that something is being done.
But what I saw in Jamaica was not the moment of crisis. It was what comes after.
The quiet landscape of recovery
We landed in Kingston and drove nearly five hours across the island to Savanna-la-Mar, where we would be based for the week.
As we passed through towns along the way, I found myself looking out the window with a quiet heaviness. There were homes still missing pieces of their roofs, former buildings still sitting in heaps of rubble and stretches of villages dotted with debris, as though they had not yet decided what they would become again.
In some towns, hydro poles were still being installed to restore power.
Bishop Anthony Street, a bishop with the Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada, explained that many areas had been changed, possibly forever.
It was a sobering reminder that long after a storm passes, its effects remain etched into the landscape and seared into people’s souls.
The first response
When Hurricane Melissa first struck, ERDO responded quickly, working through local church partners to distribute emergency relief.
More than 7,000 food and hygiene kits were provided to families across affected communities, ensuring people had access to essential supplies in the immediate aftermath of the storm.
This kind of response is critical. It meets people in the moment of urgency, when survival is the priority and everything else must wait. But what this trip showed me, more clearly than ever, is that crisis response is only the beginning of the story.
Once the initial relief has been given, what remains is a much longer, quieter journey — one that receives far less attention, yet requires far more endurance.
Meeting Janae
One moment that has stayed with me is our visit with a woman named Janae. When we arrived at the site of her home, there was almost nothing there. The land had been cleared, but what remained was a small concrete patch, the foundation of what had once been her kitchen.
The rest of the house never had proper flooring and where rooms once stood, there was now only grass.
She stood with us, gently pointing to where everything used to be: here was the kitchen, over there, the bedrooms. It required imagination to see it, but for her, it was still vivid. Off to the side lay the few pieces left behind: a crib, broken apart, along with fragments of what had once been their home. These were the only physical reminders that a family had once lived fully in this space.
Janae is a single mother with several young children, all still in those early years of life when stability matters deeply. As she spoke, it became clear how overwhelming the idea of rebuilding was for her.
A home is something that, for many families, takes years — even a lifetime — to build. To lose it all at once and then face the responsibility of starting again, largely on your own, is almost impossible to comprehend.
For now, Janae and her children are staying in a neighbour’s temporary home.
When she showed us where they are currently living, we stepped into a small one-room space that functions as everything — bedroom, kitchen and living area. There was a single bed, and around it, their belongings were gathered in bags and baskets. Their clothes were folded as neatly as possible without anywhere proper to store them.
It was clear that the loss of a house is not only about losing shelter. It is about trying to create a sense of home in impossible conditions. It is about caring for young children, maintaining dignity and continuing to show up each day when everything feels uncertain.
At some point, they will need to leave even this temporary place and return to rebuild on that empty plot of land.
Standing there with her, it was hard not to wonder how someone even begins.
Seeds, nets and a way forward
Later in the week, we attended a distribution in Flagaman, where people gathered at a local church to receive seeds and fishing equipment.
It was a simple scene — about fifty or sixty people waiting patiently but with a clear sense of urgency. These were not just supplies. They were possibilities.
Seeds meant the chance to grow food again, returning to a rhythm that had been interrupted.
Fishing equipment meant the ability to go back out to sea, earn an income and begin rebuilding livelihoods that had been lost.
There is no quick resolution here. None of these things offer immediate transformation. But, the supplies represented a way forward, a way for families to begin providing for themselves again.
The role of the church
Throughout the week, it became increasingly clear that the local church plays a central role not only in distributing aid, but also in holding communities together through the long process of recovery.
These are places where people are known, where trust already exists and where support feels deeply relational rather than transactional.
In this context, the work of organizations like ERDO becomes more than humanitarian assistance. It becomes a reflection of Christ’s love — expressed not only in moments of urgency but in the steady, ongoing presence that follows.
ERDO’s CEO Daniel Lepojarvi shared more about the vital role of the church in this interview, filmed on the ground in Jamaica.
What stayed with me most after this trip was a shift in understanding: The need does not end when the story stops being told in the news. In many ways, that is when the real work begins.
When the cameras leave and media attention moves on, communities are left to continue the slow, often overwhelming work of rebuilding their lives. This is the part that is hardest to see, and yet it is where the sustained presence of the church matters most.
A story still unfolding
The stories we captured during this trip were shared through a Crossroads Cares television special that aired on April 23rd on 100 Huntley Street, helping to bring greater awareness to what is happening in these communities.
You can watch the special here: https://100huntley.com/featured_today/100-huntley-street-april-23-2026/
And as Jamaica continues on the long road to recovery, there is still an opportunity to be part of what comes next.
You can support the next phase of recovery — helping families rebuild homes, restore livelihoods and move forward with hope — here: https://erdo.ca/crises/hurricane-in-jamaica/
