The phrase “Am I my brother’s keeper?” echoes from the ancient story of Cain and Abel in the Bible – a tale steeped in tragedy, denial, and moral responsibility. When God asks Cain about Abel’s whereabouts, Cain’s defiant response resounds not only as an evasion of guilt but as a broader question that reverberates through generations: Do we hold responsibility for the well-being of others?
In the context of Saint Lucia today, this question carries profound weight. With the island facing a concerning rise in homicides—averaging four per month this year—one might wonder if the time has come for us to answer Cain’s rhetorical question with a resounding, “Yes.”
To be one another’s keeper is to care, to be aware, and to take action. It is about cultivating a culture of vigilance, compassion, and collective responsibility. Imagine a Saint Lucia where neighbours look out for each other, where no cry for help goes unnoticed, and where communities unite to address the underlying causes of crime. Such a vision is not just idyllic; it is attainable—if we, as citizens, commit to being our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers.
The challenges we face are rooted in complex social issues—poverty, unemployment, disenfranchisement, and the breakdown of family structures. However, the solution begins with something as simple yet powerful as empathy. When we care for one another, we create a ripple effect. Acts of kindness and understanding have the power to transform lives and build bridges where once there were walls.
Being our brother’s keeper means checking in on each other, mentoring at-risk youth, and fostering open communication within our communities. It means supporting those who struggle with mental health, addiction, or economic hardship, rather than turning a blind eye. It means advocating for justice, standing up against violence, holding ourselves accountable for the part we play in shaping the society we live in and denouncing nepotism, particularly in the public sector creating, for the most part, what we call square pegs in round holds.
Let us not forget that the opposite of love is not hate; it is indifference. Each act of indifference in the face of suffering erodes the bonds that hold our society together. Saint Lucia can no longer afford indifference. With every life lost to violence, with every family torn apart, the fabric of our island nation weakens.
But there is hope. As Saint Lucians, we possess an indomitable spirit and a profound sense of community. By embracing these strengths and reaffirming our shared humanity, we can turn the tide on crime and violence. We can create a Saint Lucia where everyone feels safe, valued, and supported.
The question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” is not one for theologians alone. It is a question for each of us to answer through our actions. Let us choose to say “Yes,” for in caring for each other, we not only honour the lives lost but also pave the way for a brighter, more harmonious future for all.