Many residents in West End were forced to dump furniture, appliances, other household items and clothing damage in Hurricane Matthew.

HUNTERS, Grand Bahama -- For many storm victims whose houses are still livable, the blue tarp coverings might remain for a while.

Unemployment was already high before Hurricane Matthew pummelled the island a month ago this week.

While the government has put in place an exigency order to ease the tax burdens of people trying to rebuild, those who have little to no money to spend were not enthused by that announcement.

In Grand Bahama, the need is much greater than many even know.

The government has highlighted the loss of residents in West End -- and there is for sure a lot of devastation there -- but the plight of residents in Mack Town, Hunters, Lewis Yard and Pinder's Point, just outside Freeport, has not featured prominently in a national conversation.

Significant numbers of homes are damaged or destroyed.

Three weeks after the storm, it was clear there was still a great amount of cleaning up that still needed to be done, as well.

There were still piles of debris, smashed residences and scores of residents who wonder where help and hope are coming from.

In Hunters, several people sat under a tree when The Nassau Guardian visited last Wednesday.

As The Guardian team was leaving, one woman cried out, "I have half a house; come see my half-a-house."

Josephine Edden, who cares for her 10-year-old granddaughter, led The Guardian into a yard, where the remains of her home are.

A door was leaning against the portion of wall that still stood. All around there were deep scars left by the hurricane.

The emotional scars were clear too.

Edden buried her face in her hands when asked how she would pull her life back together. She appeared overwhelmed by the very thought of it all.

"By God's grace," Edden whispered. "Sometimes, I was going to give up, but I said, don't give up because I have a child."

Lewis Yard resident Ruth Russell, 75, lies in her bed as she speaks with Nassau Guardian Managing Editor Candia Dames on October 26. Russell lost a large portion of her roof during the passage of Hurricane Matthew. (Photos: Ahvia J. Campbell)

Asked specifically how she is going to fix the house, she responded: "I don't know; asking for help."

The electricity supply has not been reconnected to the area, but residents have accepted that there is nothing really they can do but wait it out.

At a nearby house, Everette Edden, 76, Mrs. Edden's father-in-law, who walks with a limp, said he is trying to do the best he can to get his house in order.

"The storm just tear it to pieces, so no light... no nothing. Everything is just completely down and out, and so far that's how it is. I spent all the storm them here just like this.

"Just about every house in this area is damaged; some are gone completely, and some of them are limping."

There are some signs of normalcy, but not many.

Children who are back to school walked excitedly along the road in the afternoon, many of them wearing regular clothing.

Not long after, at a house in Lewis Yard -- where the only ceiling was the blue October sky -- it became easy to understand why very few children were in uniforms.

Beneath the rubble in the frame of a house that remains, a piece of uniform poked out. It was covered in dirt and surrounded by nails, pieces of wood, overturned furniture and pieces of sheet rock.

A big television set that was tossed in the storm still sits in the middle of it all. Just about the only thing that remains in place in the house is a closet.

The mess appeared untouched nearly a month after Hurricane Matthew. Perhaps it is too overwhelming for the people who once called the place home. It was clear that not even blue tarp would bring the house to a livable standard.

It was destroyed by the hurricane. There were many similar scenes in Lewis Yard and nearby areas, as if the storm had only passed the day before.

For many residents, the task of getting their lives back to normal is overwhelming.

Still, the children laugh, and they play.

The Lewis Yard Primary School was not spared Matthew's wrath. Its roof was raked away and its structure compromised.
After the children were dismissed, four teachers sat talking at the Bishop Michael Eldon Education and Activity Centre, where classes have been relocated.

The teachers revealed chilling stories of profound loss in the communities, but also a spirit of determination to keep teaching. They are helping the children to cope with the horror that was Matthew. After school, many of the children return home to residences that are barely inhabitable. Some of them have had to move elsewhere.

When night falls, darkness blankets multiple communities, where residents can't turn on the lights and children can't do homework without candles or flashlights.

They are the youngest victims of a storm that did not discriminate when it pounded Grand Bahama with ferocious winds, and in some areas like West End, a powerful surge that caused devastation.

Joseph Darville, chairman of the environmental group Save The Bays, has visited West End several times since the storm, helping to bring relief to residents.

"It is not a punishment by the divine," Darville said of Hurricane Matthew.

"God is benevolent. God is compassionate and loves his people without limit."

Darville said the carbon footprint is causing more fierce natural disasters in a very dynamic way.

"The ocean is warming because of all the carbon; there's a lot of garbage in the ocean, adding to the heat. The sun is shining on these things that reflect the light, and so therefore there is more heat that's taking place in the ocean, and so it is the ideal atmosphere for storms to rise spontaneously.

"They don't have to come off the west coast of Africa anymore. They can spawn right in the midst of The Bahamas, and they will be doing so in the future."

It is an issue he believes needs more urgent national attention.

For those like Mrs. Edden still dealing with the substantial inconveniences of such a powerful hurricane, the immediate needs are paramount.

But determining how to meet such needs from day to day is a burden that has not eased in the days and weeks since Matthew made its mark on an island whose residents still bear the psychological scars of the 2004-2005 storms.

Candia Dames, Guardian Managing Editor

Click here to read more at The Nassau Guardian