CMU student Jamiel Powell becomes Trelawny’s lifeline after one viral video
JAMIEL Powell had filmed a quick clip of the damage he saw on his way through Trelawny and uploaded it to TikTok without much thought. Within hours, messages began flooding in from Jamaicans at home and abroad asking him to check on their mothers, cousins, neighbours, anyone they couldn’t reach. And once the requests started, the 25-year-old Caribbean Maritime University (CMU) engineering student couldn’t bring himself to stop.
Powell had driven home that weekend to check on his mother and grandmother. Their homes were without water and electricity, but still standing. It was only after he posted the video that he realised how cut off the parish had become.
“People were asking if I could find their family,” he said. “Some didn’t know if their relatives were even alive.”
He hadn’t planned to become a point of contact for an entire parish, but the need was immediate. So he got back in his car and started knocking on doors.
A different kind of first responder
Powell grew up in Falmouth Gardens and Albert Town, two communities where running water was not always guaranteed, and carrying buckets from the spring was just part of life. He describes his childhood as “humble, but it taught me to push through anything”.
That resilience followed him to CMU, where he is now a fourth-year industrial systems engineering student. Outside of school, his TikTok presence grew from documenting his work and travel experience in Alaska to helping students navigate the programme. Jamaicans already trusted his voice. Something that, unintentionally, positioned him perfectly when communication systems failed.
Once families began sending him money as thanks for checking on their relatives, he made another decision. “I couldn’t keep it,” he said. “Not when whole districts didn’t have food.”
Instead, he used every contribution to buy rice, flour, canned goods, water — whatever he could stretch across multiple households — and personally delivered the packages.
The weekend commute no one sees
During the week, Powell is a student on a demanding programme. Every weekend, he becomes something else entirely. He returns to Trelawny, navigating roads still blocked by debris, dealing with damage to his vehicle, and often parking and walking long distances into areas too remote for conventional relief teams to reach.
“I go to people who are bedridden or can’t walk,” he said. “Small help means a lot out there.”
One moment in Bunkers Hill stands out. After giving a care package to an elderly man, Powell realised the man had no walls or roof left, nowhere to even store the food. With the help of Sandy, another volunteer, and her team, Powell helped rebuild the man’s home. Another family soon received help as well.
Community support grows around him
As word of his work spread, companies and individuals began reaching out. Malta donated beverages and presented him with a small token of appreciation. Businesses such as Keims Auto Services, Humble Calf Trucking, Infinity Auto, and Paris Auto also offered support. His brother Noah has now joined him regularly on deliveries.
Still, Powell is clear-eyed about the limits. “I don’t always have the money to keep going. But someone always needs help, so I go.”
Some members of his own family are still without electricity and water, but he continues to prioritise the wider community, returning week after week without fail.
Staying consistent when it matters most
Parts of Trelawny remain outside the national spotlight, especially communities deep in the interior. For many residents, Powell has become their only consistent source of updates and assistance. “That’s why I keep going back,” he said. “If I go once and never return, some people wouldn’t get help at all.”
What started as a simple online post has transformed into a vital, ongoing support system run by one young man who didn’t wait for someone else to fix the problem.
In a parish still fighting its way back to normal, Powell has become a dependable presence, offering reassurance, supplies, and a sense of connection when people need it most.
A single video may have started it, but it’s his commitment that keeps Trelawny going.