Hi my name is Suzette and I am doing this on behalf of my sister, Simone.

This is her story.

My name is Simone, and I never imagined that I’d be writing something like this — or that life could turn upside down so quickly.

In the days leading up to Hurricane Melissa, the forecasts grew more worrying, but no one in Montego Bay — no one in Jamaica — expected what was coming. Sure, we’ve had Category 3 storms before. Sure, the Barnett River had risen high in the past. But nothing prepared us for what happened this time.

I thought I was ready. I sorted my important documents; I bought extra food and water; I ironed clothes because I expected we might lose electricity for a while. My daughter and I hunkered down, feeling as prepared as we could be. There was no fear of the roof blowing off or windows shattering. We felt safe. We had nothing to worry about… or so I thought. I didn’t know the river had plans of its own.

From early on, water began seeping into the house. I scolded myself for not removing the drain cover sooner. I piled baskets of clothes, fans, and anything else that could be lifted onto the bed, hoping to keep them out of harm’s way. I tried to mop and soak up the water, but it kept coming. I called a neighbor for help, and he rushed over to uncover the drain. The water began to recede. I let out a shaky sigh of relief — but as I would soon learn, that relief was premature.

While all this was happening, my daughter was packing her schoolbooks into garbage bags. Before she could finish, the same neighbor — the one who had just helped us — began shouting for the people on the ground floor to evacuate. His voice carried an urgency I had never heard before.

Panic set in immediately. My daughter and I ran back and forth trying to decide what to take with us upstairs. We grabbed documents, a change of clothes, a mattress, and some snacks. On the way out, I picked up my laptop bag and handbag. My daughter grabbed her schoolbag and a few books. The river was already at our door.

As it turned out, those few things would be all we owned after the storm passed.

We struggled to carry the mattress up the stairs. When we reached safety, I realized my medication was still on the table downstairs. My daughter — brave beyond her years — volunteered to go back for it. By then, the house was already flooded.

Upstairs, I paced back and forth, watching to see how fast and how high the water was rising. My legs felt like jelly. My mind raced with terrifying possibilities — including the thought of having to climb onto the roof if the water reached us upstairs. I knew I didn’t have the strength to pull myself up there. My daughter and I hugged, cried, and prayed as the flood swallowed everything below us. I could no longer see my car; it was fully submerged.

Thankfully, the water never reached the upper floor.

When morning came and it was finally safe to go downstairs, my heart broke. The devastation was absolute. What was once my home was now unrecognizable. The refrigerator, washing machine, and appliances were overturned. Our beds were buried in mud. Our clothes were ruined. Electronics destroyed. The place we had built a life in was gone.

To make matters worse, my landlord is unable or unwilling to repair the home, leaving me with nowhere to return to.

Right now, my daughter and I are living separately, staying with family and friends while we try to pick up the pieces of our lives. We are grateful to be safe, but the emotional toll — especially on her — is heavy. I am trying to stay strong, but starting over from nothing feels overwhelming. The financial mountain ahead of me is steep.

I am raising funds to help with:

Securing stable housing again

Replacing necessities for daily living

School supplies and essentials for my daughter

Replacing lost furniture and appliances

Transportation costs and replacing my vehicle

This experience has shaken every part of my life, but I am determined to rebuild — not just the physical things we lost, but the sense of stability and safety my daughter deserves.

Any support, big or small, will bring us one step closer to standing on our feet again. I will be adding photos so you can see the extent of the damage, because I know it’s hard to imagine unless you’ve seen it yourself.

Thank you for reading, sharing, and caring.

Your kindness means more than you know.

— Simone