MONTEGO BAY, Jamaica – Minister Edmund Bartlett stood before cameras announcing J$600 million in hurricane relief for displaced tourism workers—a headline-grabbing figure designed to project decisive action. But Opposition Spokesperson on Tourism Andrea Purkiss wasn’t applauding.
Instead, she was doing the mathematics that the Tourism Ministry apparently neglected: 5,000 projected beneficiaries out of 175,000 tourism workers equals less than 3% of Jamaica’s hospitality workforce.
“I commend the Government for recognizing the need to support our workers,” Purkiss stated in a December 15 press release that cut through the ministerial fanfare. “But I must ask a fundamental question the Minister has yet to answer: Has the Tourism Ministry conducted a comprehensive survey to determine how many workers have actually been affected by Hurricane Melissa?”
It’s the kind of basic due diligence question that should have been answered before any announcement. Yet the silence from the Ministry speaks volumes about a relief programme built on guesswork rather than ground truth.
The Arithmetic of Abandonment
The numbers tell a brutal story. Financial institutions granted six-month mortgage moratoriums—a lifeline that carries workers through to approximately June 2026. But numerous major properties won’t reopen until August, October, or even November 2026. The timeline doesn’t just fail to align; it creates a catastrophic gap where workers face resumed mortgage payments with empty bank accounts.
“What happens to workers in month seven when mortgage payments resume but paychecks don’t?” Purkiss demanded. “How do they pay school fees, utility bills, and put food on tables during this extended income drought?”
The Shadow Minister’s questioning exposes the fundamental flaw in celebrating a $600 million programme when the Ministry hasn’t bothered to count how many workers actually need help. While the Ministry of Labour and Social Security assessed over 40,000 households island-wide, the Tourism Ministry—responsible for an industry employing 175,000 people—apparently couldn’t be bothered to survey its own workforce.
“Without a proper assessment, how were these 5,000 workers identified?” Purkiss asked. “What about the other 170,000 tourism workers?”
Roofs Fixed, Futures Destroyed
The cruelty of the arithmetic becomes even sharper when considering workers who may have managed to repair their homes. “While some may have repaired their roofs, the vast majority will have no jobs to return to in the immediate future as the hotels will remain closed,” Purkiss noted, identifying the real crisis ahead.
“What will hotel workers do in six months when the real hunger starts?” she asked pointedly.
It’s a question that cuts to the bone: workers who stayed at their posts during Hurricane Melissa—caring for tourists while their own homes were being destroyed—now face economic catastrophe for their dedication. They showed up to rebuild hotels even when they had no roofs over their own heads. The reward for this sacrifice? Sitting at home without pay, watching contract workers take their places.
This is the video that Minister Bartlett is promoting, knowing very well that many properties will not be back in operation anytime soon:
The Casualization Scandal
Purkiss’s December 15 letter to Minister Bartlett—sent the same day as her press release—detailed disturbing reports from across the tourism belt: workers with 18 years of service sent home without pay and without redundancy letters while contract workers are brought in to the same properties.
“Workers with 18 years of service sit at home without pay and without redundancy letters,” Purkiss stated. “How does this programme protect workers from being made redundant only to be re-employed on precarious three-month contracts?”
It’s a pattern that threatens to use Hurricane Melissa as cover for dismantling decades of hard-won labor protections—the kind of worker dignity that Michael Manley fought to establish in Jamaica.
Seven Demands, One Question
Purkiss laid out seven specific demands for Minister Bartlett, including conducting a comprehensive survey of all 175,000 tourism workers, explaining how the Ministry arrived at the 5,000-worker target without assessment, establishing transparent eligibility criteria, preventing conversion of permanent positions to precarious contracts, and reporting to Parliament on worker support mechanisms.
But all seven demands circle back to one devastating question: How can the Minister ask workers to trust a recovery programme when he hasn’t even counted how many workers need recovering?
“Our tourism workers deserve more than announcements based on guesswork,” Purkiss concluded. “They deserve a comprehensive assessment that documents their suffering and ensures adequate support reaches every affected worker, not just an arbitrary 3% of the workforce.”
Minister Bartlett can announce all the millions he wants. But until he can answer Andrea Purkiss’s basic question—how many workers are actually affected?—those millions might as well be monopoly money for the 97% of tourism workers his Ministry apparently forgot to count. WiredJA
