Holding On to the Hills 10 Years After TS Erika
Starrette stands next to the distillery that he and men who remained in Petite Savanne built eight years ago.
When the storms came on August 27, 2015, Starrette’s world shifted. His restaurant, shop, and buses, the livelihood he and his wife had built to send their child to school were taken away. But instead of leaving for good, he stayed.
“I was born and raised here,” he says, gesturing to Petite Savanne, the hillside village in Dominica. “That is what our forefathers lived on. That is what they raised us with. So we stay and hold it to do our living.”
After the storm, government orders and community fear prompted a mass evacuation. Many residents never returned. Starrette understands their decision; “some people are more traumatized than others” but for him, abandoning the village would mean abandoning the bay oil industry and the farmland that sustained his family for generations. “We decided we’re not leaving the bay oil down. That is what we have.”
The International Organization for Migration’s Finding Safer Ground study notes that this is a common pattern in disaster-hit communities. Economic dependence on local industries, emotional ties to the land, and self-sufficiency often outweigh the risks. In some cases, relocation sites offer housing but not livelihoods, a deal-breaker for many.
“If I resettle back to Bellevue, then what do I have, how do I feed in my family? I don’t have the education where I can go and get a job elsewhere. I am a handyman, full of skills on my own.”
For Starrette, moving to Bellevue, the government resettlement site, wasn’t realistic. “If I resettle back to Bellevue, then what do I have, how do I feed in my family? I don’t have the education where I can go and get a job elsewhere. I am a handyman, full of skills on my own.”
He compares the initial chaos to living “off-grid,” patching roads themselves, carrying fresh water down the hill, and salvaging materials to rebuild. Although he did not have the technical expertise, Starrette and a few men who also remained in the village, put together recycle materials and solar panels to build the distillery. His decision to remain was not political. It was about survival. “It’s just putting things together, trying to make things happen and to survive.”
Risk perception is another factor. While landslides destroyed some parts of the village, Starrette points out that his home sits on a safer section of the hill. “There are areas in the village that are good… and many houses still standing.”
The Finding Safer Ground report stresses that successful relocation policies must recognize these differences, not all hazard zones are equally dangerous, and blanket bans can alienate residents. It also highlights the importance of giving people choices rather than imposing one-size-fits-all solutions.
“You can please everybody if you give them a choice. Even if the population goes from 1,000 to 500, then deal with the 500 who decide they can live fine. Help them to survive after something like that has happened.”
Starrette believes the answer lies in support for those who stay as well as those who leave. “You can please everybody if you give them a choice. Even if the population goes from 1,000 to 500, then deal with the 500 who decide they can live fine. Help them to survive after something like that has happened.” He believes that the 60 people who remained in Petite Savanne were ‘left behind’.
Ten years on, he has resettled in his own way, not in a new village but in a rebuilt life on familiar ground. “We cannot abandon it,” he says. “At least if we plant a banana, even our fresh water we have to carry down there… I’m not seeing why we should abandon and then just leave everything and go live the life where we don’t want to live.”
