When the National Water Commission (NWC) chose the slogan “Water is life” it seemed to indicate its commitment to serve a rapidly growing nation, no longer dependent on drawing water from rivers like in times past. A modern society called for the precious liquid to be taken to users, who would, from then on, pay for the service. There was grumbling. Water used to be free. Why should users have to pay for it?

In the ensuing discontent, one of the strategies introduced by the Government of the day, under Edward Seaga’s leadership, was water shops, instead of standpipes. You could “go a shop” to buy water. The idea didn’t last long. We’ve moved on into the age of battling with water bills and concern when it seems unaffordable and getting out of reach of the people’s purse.

Among the various challenges of nature, none is as challenging as drought. When rainfall has diminished and rivers and streams have dried up, the concern usually is, where will the water come from? There is no easy solution, but more grumbling. People want water and they want it now!

This is not our first drought — as some new to life seem to believe. Before this, cattle have died from thirst, standing in sun-baked fields. Plants wither as if set on fire. Farmers watch helplessly as their investments fade away. Water is life. Drought can spell its own kind of death.

Here we are again passing through the valley of the shadow of drought. In times past, the poor, especially in rural areas, felt hard the agony of lack of water and could only hope for the change in the environment which was not always understood. Some years in the past, churches were asked to have days of prayer for water to return. People went off dutifully to pray. Today, few, if anybody, does that. We are too “developed” not to understand nature’s doing.

Drought is seen by some as “Govament carelessness”. As far as they are concerned, it is Government who will have to do better than blame it on nature. The people want an answer to the question, “Weh di water deh?”

The politicians move into place. Time to head for Parliament. Time to thump the desks and call on Mister Speaker to preside, while the battle is fought. The NWC is not having a summer vacation. This is one more summer of discontent.

In a time of technological advancement, we want answers to the crucial questions eg, Why can’t the skies just open and pour down their bounty? It must be somebody’s fault and somebody had better have answers. “Find the water and give us!” Hear the people cry: “We waan wata!” And when the people go around saying “Dam”, they’re not using profanity. What they want is a super facility to store as many millions and millions of water in whatever measurement we need. If we can’t get it, it must be the politicians’ fault, so let the arguments begin.

One of the most contentious annual suggestions is to re-style the Mona Reservoir and convert it to one of those giant ones, like you see in movies in ‘Merica, or we will never be satisfied. The annual “de-silting” is another recommendation and, despite what the experts say, nothing can convince people that removing sand from the dam is our only salvation. One question which we annually revive is the issue of conservation: Why should it wait until things get really bad before we can even give a thought to saving water for another time?

History recalls that in the 80s, when expansion of the Corporate Area demanded more and more water, the Administration of the day redirected the Yallahs River to serve the capital. The people of St Thomas were not happy then, and have watched their rivers draining dry to serve Town. Like it or not, it was done. Political power is in Kingston, not in country.

St Thomas continues to complain, to this day, especially when they contemplate the rocks in the dry riverbed.

Times change. This time it is Kingston which is bawling the most. In the agricultural sector; farmers want to see moisture coming from the irrigation sprinklers. They are not easily soothed, and rightly so.

The biggest debate currently is “rainwater harvesting”, aka collecting water usually from off the roof. The current debate is developing into a political bam-bam, with the call for legal action to force the population to collect rainwater, and for this process to be enshrined in law. But what if the rain doesn’t fall? What about the many black tanks which dot the landscape from Morant Bay to Negril Point? Are they to be replaced?

The public debate has begun to simmer. With elections hovering somewhere, look out for the fightback against drought; who caused it and who will control it. Desk-thumping and hollering may not be the solution, but we will certainly hear something.

To hear some of us talk, the rain is either being withheld out of official ineptness or for some sinister reason like the climate change thing. Some persons are cynical that it even exists. Will we have the time to educate the faithful to what this really means? There are some of us who might be able to give testimony to our climate change experience for what it is worth.

My story mightn’t win me a seat in Parliament, but I share it all the same. When our family established our home beside a stream running through land in a semi-rural hillside community, it was a real milestone in our lives. For years, it brought us delight and the envy (good-natured) of friends. Little by little, however, in recent times, we’ve noticed something strange happening. We still can’t believe it.

The sound of the water gurgling over rocks, the way in which the stream could quickly become a roaring torrent, washing over from one side of the banks to the other, and then subsiding, is not there. What’s going on? The cool, refreshing temperature of the water has left us, with no explanation. The little janga, who young friends loved going after, they too have skipped town. There was a time, when crisp water cress could be found in the stream, too. Gone…where to? Don’t know.

One of the most unpleasant changes in the general environment is the invasion of croaking lizards, which have captured the neighbourhood and are driving everyone crazy with their croaking at nights. Nature has not introduced them to the night noises law, as far as we know. Could they be rehearsing for electioneering?

DID YOU KNOW?

Believe it or not, ours is not the only country battling drought. Reports indicate that our Caribbean neighbour St Lucia seems to be having a much harder time than we are. And what about some areas of California where there is a four-year drought? I wonder if the people there are as cynical and bitter about it as some of us seem to be.

gloudonb@yahoo.com