Rugged road - Children brave landslides, cross river to get to school
Every afternoon, for the past two weeks, long before the final bell rings at Craighton Primary School, 36-year-old Marva Anderson leaves her yard in Irish Town, St Andrew and begins the quiet ritual she never imagined would become part of daily life.
For 20 minutes, she trods along a rugged footpath to the edge of a river where she meets her set of seven-year-old twins, girl and boy.
Like many residents of Irish Town, Redlight, and Middleton Settlement in the East Rural St Andrew hills, Anderson has been forced into this arduous daily trek since Hurricane Melissa ripped through the countryside, uprooting trees, damaging homes and triggering landslides. A section of the Newcastle main road, the route her children used to travel, collapsed forcing persons like Anderson to find alternative routes.
Her twins used to hop into a taxi and reach school in five minutes. Now, the journey is a patchwork of rides, long walks and river crossing.
"They use to wake up 6:30 a.m. to leave out quarter past seven, now I have to wake them at 5:45," Anderson told THE STAR. "They get a drive go up to the breakaway, then walk cross, and their grandmother carry them go school."
But in the evenings, the last leg belongs to her.
"Mi haffi meet them by the river," she said.
On the far side of the mountains, once the clock strikes 2 p.m., her twins begin their 40-minute journey home. For the children, it's an adventure. For their mother, it's a test of faith.
"They're okay man," she insisted. "Sometimes they come in a group, or they'll see an adult and walk with them."
Their biggest complaints, she said, are the weight of their school bags and the aching from their shoes -- an issue eased when the school allowed students from the district to wear Crocs instead of formal footwear.
But when it rains, her heart pounds.
"This isn't nothing when it's wet," she explained. "Because of the clay, it get so slippery. But when rain fall, the school dismiss before 2. They call round 1 o'clock to warn us."
Early dismissal brings relief, but also urgency because wandering children and a river can be a dangerous mix.
"We must meet them. Dem naah pass the water straight. The other day mi see dem going up the course. They excited fi put dem foot inna the river - it's the best day of their life," Anderson said.
At the river she settles onto the bank like clockwork, chin in hand and eyes fixed across the water.
"Dem shoulda here by now," she said.
The the stillness breaks -- first with giggles, then tiny footsteps, then the heavy breathing of two children who finally emerge on the other side. Their faces brighten the moment they spot her.
The children walk across a makeshift bamboo bridge which spans the river. On other days they skip along the stones residents have stacked into a crooked path through the water. With sweets in their hands and laughter in their lungs, they inch forward before rushing into their mother's arms.









