Follow us on socials: Facebook and Instagram: By All Angles UK correspondents based in Jamaica.

When Hurricane Melissa devastated Jamaica, the nation’s attention turned to destroyed homes, flooded communities, and the bravery of police, soldiers, and firefighters. Yet one group of frontline workers was left in silence: the correctional officers of the Department of Correctional Services. They hold a vital place in society. They do not make the laws, nor do they sit in the courtroom or jury box, but whether someone is guilty or innocent, their duty remains the same: to provide safety and security within the prison walls. In doing so, they uphold a responsibility the country relies on — ensuring order, dignity, and protection in places where hope can feel scarce.

Correctional officers in Jamaica are trained not only in security but also in rehabilitation, helping inmates rebuild their lives

Their role is not about judgement, but about service, and that makes it quietly heroic. Dancehall artists such as Vybz Kartel and Tommy Lee Sparta once expressed respect for officers at Horizon Correctional Centre, but after Melissa, few asked how they were coping. Inside the prisons, the ordeal was harrowing. Buildings shook, fences collapsed, and power failed, forcing officers to rely on backup generators that lit only certain areas.

Advertisement

Concrete trembled beneath their feet as they stood in corridors with flashlights, checking for structural damage while communication systems broke down. When the storm finally calmed, stepping outside felt like “another planet.” Many officers couldn’t return home for days, trapped by duty while their own families faced devastation. Despite this, they continued to guard inmates, reminding us: “We are keeping society safe, but our struggles are often overlooked.”

Many of Jamaica’s correctional facilities were once historic sites, and today officers guard them as living symbols of resilience and transformation

The aftermath has only made their jobs harder. Aid for rebuilding correctional facilities is slow, leaving broken fences, damaged infrastructure, and unreliable power systems. While other uniformed services were praised, correctional officers were left invisible, their resilience buried beneath louder narratives of heroism. Their silence is not weakness—it is a reflection of a society that too often overlooks them.

Over 100 new recruits join the Department of Correctional Services each year, strengthening the frontline of justice and safety

Hurricane Melissa revealed more than physical destruction; it exposed the neglect of Jamaica’s correctional officers. They stood firm in darkness, sacrificed personal safety, and kept order when chaos threatened. It is time Jamaica breaks its silence and acknowledges these officers—not just as keepers of inmates, but as unsung guardians of society. By sharing this story with the right voices and decision-makers, there is hope that correctional officers may finally receive the support they need in this difficult time.