Messaging Through Hurricane Melissa

This story by Janine Mendes-Franco originally appeared on Global Voices   on October 28, 2025. 

On Monday October 20, Melissa, then a tropical storm, was ambling across the central Caribbean. Jamaica's meteorological office had put out the requisite news release advising of a severe weather alert. Fishers should expect “deteriorating” sea conditions and residents, “periods of heavy rainfall and strong, gusty winds.” Just over a week later, as Hurricane Melissa approaches the Caribbean island, it is impossible to access the met office's website: “Too Many Requests,” the message says. “The user has sent too many requests in a given amount of time.”

Yet, I know what's happening on the ground in Jamaica thanks to the messaging service of choice in the Caribbean, WhatsApp. Ever since that initial press release, I have been regularly staying in touch with family and friends, two of whom — Emma Lewis and Candice Stewart — are cherished Global Voices contributors. Ordinarily, the messaging app is a quick and convenient means of staying in touch. Under threat of a natural disaster, it's a lifeline.

By Tuesday October 21, we could see where things were heading. Even as Emma shared photos of an “extraordinary sunrise” against “dark clouds on the horizon,” making sure to tell us she used no filters, just her iPhone, Jamaica's parliament was in an uproar, with the opposition marching out of the sitting following a heated debate over hurricane readiness. The government subsequently had press conferences to address the national disaster preparedness roll-out plan.

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Meanwhile, in sharing a colourful screenshot from WeatherNerds.org on our chat, Emma quipped, “I guess all these scribbles mean…HELP!!” By Friday, she had deemed the latest forecast from the National Hurricane Center in Florida “horrible.” Prime Minister Andrew Holness soon declared Jamaica a “threatened area,” followed by the issuing of a trade order to prevent price gouging. The order prohibits retailers from increasing the price of essential goods like food, water, medical supplies, personal care items, building materials, and emergency equipment.

On Friday October 24, with Melissa expected to “rapidly intensify,” Jamaica’s met office put the country under a hurricane warning. “Yup!” Emma mused. “Nervous now.” To which Candice replied, “I'm trying not to feed into nerves or anxiety because it'll be a wrap if I get there.”

From last year's experience with Hurricane Beryl, it was obvious that even though Emma and Candice live in the same country, their experiences of the same storm were very different. Emma lives in the capital, Kingston, which is much more urban with well established infrastructure, while Candice is further inland, in the parish of St. Catherine. After the passage of Beryl, Candice lost access to pipe-borne water for an extended period of time. In the early hours of Tuesday October 28, Candice posted, “That's it for water in the pipes.” The storm had not yet made landfall.

As with Beryl, Candice was prepared to change location quickly if needed. As Emma cautioned, “Some areas are likely to flood. Plus storm surge…” Candice reminded her, “I'm inland […] away from storm surges, but I fear that if [Melissa] stays the path of what I currently see on the Zoom Earth storm tracker, I'll be close to her centre when she passes through.” Beryl, she remembered, more or less “skirted” Jamaica. “This one….bwoooooyyy!” Of concern with Melissa is not just the size and path of the storm, but the fact that it is very slow-moving. “You might have landslides, Candice,” Emma said, concerned. “Trying not to sit on that possibility too much,” she replied. “The stress alone…”

As part of the hurricane prep, Jamaica was welcoming teams of linesmen from the United States, Canada and St. Vincent and the Grenadines to assist the Jamaica Public Service (JPS), the sole electricity provider on the island, with restoration of power in the wake of the storm. After Hurricane Beryl, certain communities — in Jamaica as well as the wider region — were left without power for months.

Saturday October 25: Melissa is upgraded to hurricane status, prompting Candice to share in the wee hours of Sunday morning, “Struggling to stay asleep. Usually when this happens, I'd hear birds outside brooding, or some insect chirping or whatever noise they make. You know, something to blend as white noise in my head…it's dead silent. I'm scared.”

Emma replied, “Our frogs are still tweeting but apart from that it’s been strangely quiet all day, not a breath of wind. But my friend Carla tells me it’s very rough, windy weather in eastern Portland.” Within an hour of that conversation, Melissa had been upgraded to a Cat 3 storm. “It’s nerve-wracking,” Emma continued. “This morning is calm in Kingston but nonstop rain since last night. Eastern parishes are getting stormy conditions.”

“Been drizzling on my side since around 6 a.m.,” Candice replied. “Not much breeze. Dark skies. Haven't slept since my last check-in. Mostly anxiety. ” Emma admitted she had “slept really badly too”: “Raining nonstop here but no breeze yet. It’s also getting darker.” The irony, as Candice noted, was that “outside just looks like one of those rainy days. The type that I live for, esp. when I'm home. However, knowing what's behind [it] all is the real pressure raiser.”

Over the next couple of days, they would share links of how the country's zookeepers were prepping the facilities to keep the animals safe, marvel at entrepreneurial Jamaicans who were using WhatsApp to offer their services for last-minute roof patching jobs, and remember the passage of Hurricane Gilbert in 1988: “It was chaotic,” Emma recalls. “People weren’t used to hurricanes then (they are now!!) I recall lining up outside the Ice Factory downtown to get a block of ice. No power or water for quite a while. We pulled through though…”

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In true Caribbean style, humour also came into play — or as Jamaicans put it, “Tek serious ting mek laugh” — even as evacuation orders were being issued for certain high-risk communities. By Monday October 27, Candice informed us, “Winds have picked up significantly. It's literally howling. I suspect the power will be out soon. I'm good. Fed, cosy but alert, and also much more rested.”

“Windy down here,” Emma replied, “but we’re not howling yet. I hardly slept (again). It’s a Category Five.” Flooding soon began to besiege certain communities, with “quite a few crocodile sightings in flood waters.” Candice added, “And there's a chance that other endemic species and just animals all round will get dislocated and be all over. I don't have to be concerned about crocs, but I wouldn't be surprised if I see snakes. I [remember] post-Ivan, crabs were all over the verandah.”

Mostly, though, the messaging filled the spaces in between the waiting as Candice mused, “’51 storm Charlie – Cat 3; ’88 storm Gilbert – hit us as a Cat 3; ”25 storm Melissa – maybe Cat 5, maybe Cat 4. All 37 years apart and all had some significant impact. Once a generation . It feels kind of personal […] Two years in a row our breadbasket parish is gonna get a lashing.”

According to Emma, the country's Office of Disaster Preparedness and Emergency Management has been doing a stellar job, including regularly communicating the met office's updates on its social media channels.

In the prelude to the storm, Jamaica has already had three deaths — two caused by falling tress, and one by an electrocution incident — and 13 injuries, mostly from people falling off ladders or rooftops. All health centres have been closed, but all major hospitals on the island remain open. Additionally, out of over 800 shelters scattered across the country, about 130 have been made operational, with Candice expecting that number to increase very soon. Psychosocial support is also being provided to citizens via the country's health ministry and, as should be expected in the age of AI, fake disaster videos have been proliferating on social media as the storm bears down on the island.

By Tuesday October 28, the predicted date of landfall, Candice updated the chat: “Outside a blow weh and tumble down. The howling  […] Gusts getting stronger.” Emma added, “Wind is now quite fierce in Kingston and I'm hearing a lot of strange noises outside. Have not slept at all. Now getting very heavy rain.” As at the time of publishing, Emma, who relies on solar, still had power; Candice's electricity went at 9:47 a.m. local time. “Physically I'm okay,” she reported. “Safe [but] emotionally wrecked. This wind is haunting.”

An early morning bulletin advised that conditions would “continue to deteriorate ahead of landfall,” which is expected to be sometime this afternoon. As several WhatsApp messages circulated around the region asking for prayers, Candice said, “Idk how we'll overcome. I know we will, I just don't know how.” 

[VP]

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