By June in Trinidad and Tobago, the heat feels heavy, charged with anticipation. The hurricane season is here, and the unpredictability of Caribbean weather is in full swing. For those of us living on this small island, that means leaving your house in the morning in sweltering sun, and halfway through your commute, a torrential downpour that comes out of nowhere. And with that comes not just storms, but flooding. Sometimes sudden, sometimes severe, but always disruptive.
As a blind woman, flooding is more than an inconvenience. It’s a challenge layered with uncertainty. I can’t see the water rising around me, the depth of the puddles or rivers flowing where streets should be. I rely on sounds, the touch of my cane, and memory to navigate a world transformed by water.
I remember the floods of October 2018 as if they happened yesterday. Not just because of the news headlines, but because my family and I were not spared. Water rushed into our home, soaking furniture, clothes, and treasured belongings. Everything we thought was safe became vulnerable. The roads outside were impassable, and the anxiety of not knowing how high the water would rise was constant.
For me, being blind made everything more complicated. I couldn’t tell where the water was gathering or what was floating in it. I couldn’t rely on my usual routines or surroundings. Even basic movements felt uncertain and dangerous.
Streets became rivers. Cars floated like toys. Entire communities in central and eastern Trinidad were under water. Water levels reached windows; people were stranded on rooftops. Some had to wade through chest-high water just to reach safety.
The dangers for persons with disabilities during those floods were real. Wheelchair users were trapped in homes. Deaf individuals missed evacuation messages. People like me, who are blind, had to depend entirely on others to know what was going on and how to respond—all while trying to stay calm in the chaos.
And the rains keep coming. Just last week, heavy downpours flooded streets again. Water pooled quickly, drains overflowed, and roads became unsafe.
For blind and visually impaired people, these moments are tense. Every step brings a level of uncertainty.
But this time, we’re better prepared.
The Trinidad and Tobago Blind Welfare Association (TTBWA) has partnered with the Ministry of Rural Development and Local Government to launch training programmes focused on first aid and disaster preparedness tailored specifically for the blind and visually impaired community. These sessions teach more than just CPR and bandaging. They focus on staying calm in emergencies, equipping this community with the tools we need to help in an emergency rather than standing by like a quiet observer.
In addition to training, TTBWA is collecting the locations of its clients. This is crucial. When floods or hurricanes hit, the ministry needs to know exactly where to find us to help with evacuation or emergency assistance.
This kind of mapping and coordination ensures no one is left behind, especially those who may not be able to call for help themselves during a disaster.
This is because during a disaster, what matters most is clear information and support. We need to know where to go and how to get there safely. Too often, emergency plans overlook people with disabilities or treat us as an afterthought.
Disaster preparedness must include everyone. Not just those who can see or hear, but those of us who rely on other senses and strategies to survive. Blindness does not mean weakness, but it does mean we face unique challenges when floods or storms come.
I’ve learned to be resilient, but resilience grows stronger with community support and planning. As the hurricane season continues, often with storms growing more intense due to climate change, I urge leaders, families, and communities to include people with disabilities in all disaster planning. We don’t want sympathy; we want practical strategies that keep us safe.
Flooding will remain a part of life here. But with knowledge, preparation, and the right tools, we can face these challenges together—with dignity, independence, and hope.
It’s time for all of us—government officials, emergency responders, community leaders, and citizens—to recognise that disaster preparedness isn’t complete without the voices and needs of people with disabilities.
Inclusive planning, accessible communication, and proactive support can literally save lives. Together, we must build a safer, more resilient T&T where no one is left behind when the waters rise and the storms come, because the truth is, they will.
This column is supplied in conjunction with the T&T Blind Welfare Association
Headquarters: 118 Duke Street, Port of Spain, Trinidad
Email: ttbwa1914@gmail.com
Phone: (868) 624-4675
WhatsApp: (868) 395-3086