Basil Jarrett | Of tumult, tents and tarpaulins

YOU LEARN a lot working alongside the world’s greatest humanitarian actors during the greatest humanitarian crisis to hit modern Jamaica. One of these lessons is the importance of the careful and critical selection and coordination of the necessary skills and expertise required, in order to prevent too many cooks from spoiling the proverbial broth.

The UN organisations working on the ground in St Elizabeth, Westmoreland, Hanover, St James, and Trelawny all bring a unique focus and talent to the fight. Some of these are immediately obvious. The UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, for instance, organises the emergency response coordination between the international aid bodies and the Government. UN Women ensures that not only do rumours of sexual abuse against women and girls in hurricane shelters remain just that, rumours, but also that women and children are prioritised during the rescue, relief, recovery and rebuilding phases. Then, there is UNICEF, whose mandate is to protect and provide for affected children, and the World Food Programme, which is responsible for food and water supply.

The alphabet soup of UN entities currently in the country is completed by other familiar names, such as the Pan American Health Organization, United Nations Development Programme and the Food and Agriculture Organization, to name a few. But there is one body, I will admit, whose presence had me scratching my head at first glance: the International Organization for Migration (IOM).

THE INTERNATIONAL ORGANIZATION FOR MIGRATION

Although the IOM was founded in 1951, its Caribbean arm is one of the youngest siblings in the UN family, having been established in 2023. Its mandate is to promote safe, regular and orderly migration and support the development of migration policies in the Caribbean. Although the IOM has been in Jamaica for over 30 years assisting in the areas of human trafficking, reintegration assistance, and diaspora engagement, persons would be most familiar with its work in the context of Haitian and Cuban migrants and their travels to, and travails with, the United States.

So one could be forgiven for not immediately seeing its relevance during the Melissa response effort. But, as with most things, the devil is in the details.

You see, when a Category 5 storm like Melissa makes landfall, it displaces roofs, buildings, structures, trees, and, very importantly, people. The latter, in UN parlance, are classified as Internally Displaced Persons (IDP), and their movement from their community and possible migration to others can present significant challenges long after the storm has passed.

INTERNALLY DISPLACED PERSONS

This is where the IOM’s presence, value and relevance become apparent. According to Natasha Greaves, head of office of IOM Jamaica, when you frame the fallout from Hurricane Melissa in the context of the movement and impact of IDPs, you begin to see more clearly the role and importance of the organisation in ensuring that displaced Jamaicans have the shelter, dignity, and protection they need.

Immediately after Melissa, the relief effort had focused primarily on saving lives, reopening access to communities, and feeding those impacted. But, in the middle of the massive efforts to provide emergency food and water, finding a warm, dry, comfortable place to sleep is an equally high priority. Even better if that space also provides privacy and security. To underscore this latter point, on a recent work detail out west with the Jamaica Defence Force (JDF) and UN relief teams, I was surprised to see some community members offering to trade food for solar lights.

Farms, shops, homes and schools cannot operate if people don’t have a roof over their head and a secure place to sleep, and, until then, the real hard work of rebuilding lives and livelihoods will be stalled. This is where the IOM steps in.

THE HUMBLE TARPAULIN

In doing so, one of the simplest, yet most critical, tools to emerge from the IOM toolbox is the humble tarpaulin. Once confined to the back shelf of hardware stores across Jamaica, the now-ubiquitous tarpaulin has emerged as one of the heroes of the relief effort, commanding top billing and, increasingly, top retail prices. Greaves reveals that the IOM, working with partners such as the Global Empowerment Mission and local civil society and faith-based groups, has distributed over 7,200 ‘tarps’ to needy persons. Shelter, she says, is not just about having somewhere dry to sleep. It’s about dignity and safety. It’s the foundation, literally and metaphorically, for everything that comes next.

And all of this starts with a roof, albeit a soft one, over their heads. To underscore the importance of even these temporary solutions, the IOM recently partnered with the Jamaica Institution of Engineers and the JDF to create a three-minute video demonstrating how to properly install a tarpaulin. And yes, dear reader, there is a right and a wrong way to install a tarp and no, you don’t just drag it to the corners and weigh it down with a brick.

These devices, because that’s what they are now, devices, having been elevated from the ranks of drab plastic sheeting, will be a key feature on western roofs for some time as the country gets back on its feet.

NOT JUST TARPS

Tarpaulins may have stolen the spotlight, but they’re really just the headline performer in a much bigger IOM act built around safety, dignity and basic comfort. That package includes, among other things, shelter repair kits, tents, mattresses, sleeping mats, water drums, kitchen sets, hygiene and dignity kits, tools, mosquito nets and, of course, those precious solar lamps and small generators that turn pitch-black nights into something a little less frightening.

In much the same way that the humble tin of bully beef is forever linked to the memory and experience of 1988’s Hurricane Gilbert, IOM’s big grey tarps may cement their place in Jamaican folklore for decades to come, forever synonymous with Melissa. They may not look like much from a distance but, for the men, women and children under those soft roofs, that little piece of plastic may be what stands between endless ruin and rapid recovery.

Major Basil Jarrett is the director of communications at the Major Organised Crime and Anti-Corruption Agency (MOCA) and crisis communications consultant. Follow him on Twitter, Instagram, Threads @IamBasilJarrett and linkedin.com/in/basiljarrett. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com