Jamaica My Home Country

The Sad Changes in My Hometown

I was born and raised in a small community in St. Andrew, Jamaica, called Cassava Piece. According to the website Help Jamaica, “It is what some people call an ‘uptown ghetto’: a structurally underdeveloped, violence-ridden community with zinc fences, shacks, small stony roads, many children, no playgrounds and few opportunities” (“Cassava Piece”). Yet despite this description, it was my home, a home tucked away in an area surrounded by big hotels, shopping centers and pleasant roads and upper-class people. But despite being surrounded by all the luxury and promising lifestyle, my hometown is now no longer looked at in a good light because of violence (Thesis).

A long gully runs through the community, dividing it from top to bottom. It was not always like this, but political affiliations have had a big impact on many in the community, both young and old. When I was growing up in the 80’s it was okay to take late night walks, have parties with young and old on your porch, and hang out with family and friends on the streets in nice weather, without feeling scared that something might happen to you. Small shops, clubs, and bars would stay open for the entire night. Bingo tables were seen on every corner. Laughter and excitement filled the air.

On the weekend, we would plan trips to the beach or the river, a spirit of excitement and positivity blooming. It was never hard for my little community to come together as one. Violence changed everything. My community was rocked with pain, frustration, and anger. Politicians who cared nothing about the people who rally for them drove a wedge between close friends and family for personal gains. Night life was no fun because violence was now the new norm and people got scared. Bodies were found, funeral arrangements were being made every week because now it was okay to kill each other. It was even risky to walk on the streets, because of the reckless driving (Williams).