Walking the path of resilience: The unbroken spirit

In the western parishes, the devastation by Hurricane Melissa has posed a brutal challenge to an equally formidable people.

These lands carry deep roots. St Elizabeth, one of Jamaica’s oldest parishes, traces its history to the settlement of the Taino on the Pedro Plains and, later, the Spanish and English colonisers. Westmoreland, named in 1703 for the most westerly part of the island, was carved from St Elizabeth’s bounds. Here in the south-west, sugarcane fields, cattle grazing expanses, and resilient rural communities have long defined the rhythm of life.

And now the storm has cut a swath across that familiar rhythm. Landfall near New Hope and across the western edge left parishes such as St Elizabeth and Westmoreland among those hardest hit. In the face of fierce winds and surging seas, the people stood firm.

When I reflect on these places, I’m drawn to the notion that each person is the path, the path of determination, the path of conviction, the path you have chosen to live. The storm may challenge that path, rip it apart in places, but it cannot erase the map etched deep into the heart of the land and its people.

In this moment, the path of peace matters: to hold fast to the calm in your soul. The path of understanding: to recognise that the land you love will demand repair, time, and compassion. The path of action to serve family, friends, and neighbours: it is in lending a hand to rebuild a roof, in helping to clear the road, that the essence of these parishes shows. In the rich agricultural plains of St Elizabeth, that service means planting again; in the seaside villages of Westmoreland, it means restoring both homes and morale.

There is value in reflection. When we look back, we hope to say: Yes, I have done it my way. Not in arrogance, but in the truth of the labour, the risk, the giving, the love. Choose your path carefully: with love, with giving, with gratitude for the land beneath your feet and the community beside you.

If today the fields are flattened, the roofs gone, the sea claims where it should not, we must remember: you are the path itself. At any point, you can change direction, pick up the broken pieces, and lay them down anew. The life lessons from the rugged plains of Jamaica’s western parishes are simple yet profound: resilience is not a boast, but a daily commitment; hope is not passive, but active rebuilding; community is not convenience, but necessity.

So, let us walk with the people of St Elizabeth and Westmoreland and other affected parishes hand-in-hand, path in hand, and let our collective journey reflect not only what the storm has taken, but what spirit will restore.

Contributed by Dr Lorenzo Gordon, a diabetologist, internal medicine consultant, biochemist, and a history and heritage enthusiast. Send feedback to inspiring876@gmail.com