Judy Grant is a Vincentian-born PhD Candidate in Adult Education and Community Development at the Ontario Institute for Educational Studies (OISE) and the Collaborative Program in Women and Gender Studies at the University of Toronto.
While sitting at my kitchen table to write this piece, tears roll down my face as I stare out my window and catch a glimpse of the blue Atlantic Ocean through the brilliant sunshine dominating the gray volcanic ash which meanders through Stubbs Village, in St. Vincent ay Grenadines.
On Friday April, 9, 2021 at approximately 08:41 am, the first of large explosive blasts exploded through the mountain, located on the windy north side of the island. The terrible and continuing eruptions are devastating havoc and catastrophic devastation for the residents of St Vincent and especially the indigenous Carib / Garifuna peoples, many of whom were displaced from their now destroyed homes. Thousands of people on land and sea had to be evacuated from the so-called red zone to green zones further south. Most evacuees now live in temporary shelters across the island.
Stubbs Government School, located in Stubbs Village, where I grew up, is one of the designated refuges. I attended this primary school. I am now assisting the displaced residents at the Stubbs school shelter and another shelter that is very close.
The Explosion
When the volcano erupted, I was on my veranda talking to my neighbor. The whole village began to grow dark as the thick blankets of the village blankets. The clouds were dark and gray, the ash was everywhere, and it was hard to see and breathe. I looked towards Stubbs Primary School and saw people standing and sitting outside. My uncle called out to confirm that the school was a designated relief shelter for evacuees. I went into instant action mode. I messaged Marsha, the preschool teacher and resident of Stubbs who has deep roots and organized community experience. Marsha said, “Girl di thing real bad!” She told me that the people at the shelter didn’t even have some warm water to make some tea and that she was about to go to the grocery and buy them some food. I got dressed and walked to Marsha’s house and we went to a local shop then a supermarket and bought groceries for the shelter’s residents. We bagged items and distributed them to as many people as possible. Women and children (including small children) and men were everywhere. The look of confusion, sadness, shock and uncertainty was clearly visible on people’s faces. It was heartbreaking to watch.
I walked around to assess the situation and talk to residents. The first room I visited was occupied by a self-identified Caribbean woman and her teenage son lying on a cradle. “Can you give me something about the pain please?” she asked me. “I had to sleep on these benches because they didn’t have cages when we got here,” he explained. Her son is asthmatic and was unable to grab his puff when leaving their homes. He looked sad and described having to leave his dog behind. This family includes a mother and four children (two daughters and two sons) her three-year-old granddaughter, her mother (aged 63) and her cousin, an adult daughter and her husband. They are all from Owia and live in two houses – both were damaged in the explosion.
The situation was dire. Several families in the shelter had no food, water, sleeping coats, blankets or towels. The kitchen had no food and no preparation appeared to have been done before evacuees were dropped off at Stubbs Government School, although it was a designated evacuation center. We later heard that someone had forgotten to put the school on the assigned shelter list – although several ‘Asylum Management Team’ meetings took place before the explosion began.
I was given pain medication for the woman and continued to do my rounds.
People were sad, and some said they didn’t get a proper night’s sleep, without food, and some desperately tried to hold back tears as they reported having to run away from home.
Community organization at its best: The revolution is at grassroots level and it is with the people
Since the volcano erupted, it has illuminated where the strength, hope and potential for transformational change really are – the grassroots community! I was very surprised by the ways in which folks started displaying food stuff, clothes and more. Women brought food stuff and started cooking for the shelter; folks started dropping bottled water and canned goods; some could be heard saying words of encouragement and others praying. In the midst of all this, a Carifuna man, with his portable radio hanging on his chest, walks through a “Don’t worry about what” blast and smiles as our eyes meet. We were enlivened by the acts of kindness, generosity, love and care shown by members of the community. The displaced residents began to take action, arranging temporary home rooms, many of them smiling as they reminded each other that God was in the middle and in control.
With the help of the founder of St. Matthias Charities Inc. (STMCI), minister Robert McBarnett, his wife Sharon and Esther (also living in Stubbs), I managed to arrange some items that were at the charity headquarters: clothes, towels, toothpaste, toothbrushes, underwear, sanitary napkins, food stuff, bags and books etc. STMCI is a not-for-profit organization started in 2012 by minister McBarnett and his wife, my aunt Sharon Grant. It is an established and dedicated charity of which I am a part, and whose efforts extend to other Caribbean islands including Grenada. I donate to STMCI and I promote and attend fundraisers in New York and volunteer here at St. Vincent.
STMCI made the decision to adopt the Stubbs School shelter as its primary site and focus relief efforts on the residents there. By the end of day one, we had little water, food, clothes and sleeping coats (no sheets, pillows etc) for displaced residents. It was terrible. We were unable to contact any representative of the National Emergency Management Organization (NEMO).
The shelter manager and head of school organized its staff, and we sorted the items we had. We made a video asking for help on behalf of the STMCI and distributed all items to those in need at the shelter.
Water Crisis
The water in the shelter was low and only one of the three water tanks was working properly. Water became a critical issue and there is still not enough drinking water on site or in the village. The water catchment was damaged, and is still being repaired.
With the help of Mr Rawleson Jerome Bullen, project coordinator for a Grenadian construction company, Kuwait Dynamics Constructions Ltd (KDL), we pumped water from local rivers to flush toilets and wash ash from and around Stubbs School and St Clair. Deacon High School, a second site home to approximately 105 residents, most of whom are indigenous. We are still experiencing the water crisis, but more people have been out with their personal trucks volunteering to supply water to residents throughout communities.
What I do know is that there is transformational change at the community level. What I see here in the days after the initial explosion are the multiple and varied ways in which communities love and care for each other throughout the most terrible and uncertain times. This was evident from day one when I spoke to Marsha John and we met to arrange the quick response to provide the basic necessities to ensure that the most vulnerable among us tend to have compassionate care and dignity . This is evident when the space man and other local business owners donated items to the shelter. We saw the kind of love rooted in care communities when women cooked and delivered food to the empty kitchen and the pantry began to fill, one can of canned mackerel in a tomato sauce aka ‘young tongue’ (to use a term Vincentian) at a time. Time and again we saw how the women, in particular, displayed clothes, water, food, sanitary napkins, toilet papers and deodorants and pampers for the babies in our refuge here in Stubbs, Yes, we have a few little ones here with us and they are dear.
There are about 22 children at Stubbs Primary School and three young children. The echoing sounds of children’s laughter as they run up and down Stubbs’ school steps drown out La Soufriere’s noisy roar as he competes for attention.
The overwhelming majority of women at Stubbs Government school and St Clair Deacon high school shelters are Carib / Indigenous Garifuna, and are here with their families. These women have been remarkably positive and have already begun to organize activities such as entertainment and self-pampering (plaiting and make-up). Amid all the chaos and uncertainty, a group of young women at the Stubbs shelter protested the lack of combs and asked for hair braids, weaving, needle and thread, and cosmetics. “Just because we shadow it doesn’t mean we don’t want to look good and take care of what we own”, they explain. We laughed and agreed that a fashion show hosted by the self-described “Hot Gyal Crew” will be a good event. They are currently planning this event. The men want to do their traditional dances and an 86-year-old Caribbean woman, with her beautiful stick in hand, wants to tell us stories about the explosion of 1979. We also plan storytelling and dance nights away.
COVID 19
There has been no word on resident testing at the shelter facilities here at Stubbs. There have been unofficial reports of several cases in other refuges and to date there has been no clear information or instructions on how we test and / vaccinate people in the asylum population. There are vulnerable people with underlying health conditions (diabetes, hypertension, asthma, the latter exacerbated by the effect of ashes on breathing). This is crucial and residents are very concerned about the lack of testing.
Hope
The residents of the shelter are hopeful. Most of those displaced come from the Owia, Sandy Bay, Georgetown area. There are a few Fancy families. Some families have received word about their homes. Many native women and their children are now displaced and some have lost everything. One woman broke down as she fetched water to flush the toilets, reportedly seeing a video of her modest home washed away by boiling river water. I hugged her tightly and whispered in my ear “it’s easy to see everything ah worked so hard for going.” But she was most disturbed by the lack of water to flush. He said he could handle the house mashing; however, he could not handle having a disease in a shelter because he was too nasty. I agreed and we both discussed the possibilities of rebuilding better and differently.
The native and youthful women and children and men here are amazing. They are already walking through Stubbs, meeting and getting to know residents. Some have been to my home and the local businesses around. Others are prepared for prayer meetings; I never knew I could preach but I’ve since found out. We are hopeful and full of hope.
The people are the revolution.