Dear Editor,

The heat is on. Across Jamaica, as temperatures rise and the days feel heavier, many families will look for the same relief Jamaicans have always turned to — the sea. A trip to the beach is not just about swimming; it is about children running barefoot on the sand, parents unpacking food, friends laughing under a tree, elders sitting quietly in the breeze, and communities finding one peaceful moment away from the pressure of daily life.

But for too many Jamaicans, going to the beach is no longer a simple decision. The question is not only which beach to visit; it is whether they can afford the entry fee, where they are allowed to park, whether a gate will block them, whether security will turn them back, and/or whether the coastline they grew up knowing has slowly become a space controlled by someone else.

This should trouble us.

Jamaica sells itself to the world through sun, sea, sand, music, food, and culture. Tourism remains one of the country’s most important economic engines, with Jamaica projecting 4.3 million visitor arrivals in 2025 and US$4.6 billion in earnings. These figures matter. Tourism provides jobs and supports hotels, craft vendors, farmers, entertainers, transport operators, as well as small businesses. It brings foreign exchange and strengthens our economy. But economic success must never come at the cost of national belonging. The uncomfortable question is this: What does development mean if Jamaicans begin to feel like visitors at their own beaches?

This issue is not simply about recreation; it is about dignity, access, culture, family life, community memory, fishermen, vendors, and the right of ordinary citizens to enjoy the natural beauty of their own country. A beach is not only a tourist product; it is part of Jamaica’s identity. It is where children learn to swim, families gather on holidays, fishermen launch their boats, vendors earn a living, and communities pass down stories, music, and memory.

When a nation’s coastline becomes easier to market than to access, something deeper than beach policy is at stake. Therefore, we are forced to ask who development is really serving and whether public spaces are being protected for the people or quietly placed beyond their reach.

The current debate over beach access and privatisation concerns should, therefore, be treated as more than a legal or tourism issue. It is a question of fairness, citizenship, and national pride. Government plans to upgrade public beaches are welcome, but access must be more than symbolic; it must be real, affordable, safe, clearly marked, legally protected, and permanently maintained.

The sea should never become a privilege reserved for those who can pay, invest, or book a room. Development must include the people whose culture, labour, and identity help make Jamaica attractive to the world.

If Jamaica’s beauty belongs to the nation, then Jamaicans must not be made to stand locked outside the gate.

Renée Watkis

renedicken@hotmail.com