Now that Jazz is over, it’s time for the business we didn’t know we like to mind. Oui papa!
For weeks, Saint Lucia was dressed up. The lights were bright, the visitors were plenty, and the vibes were high. We had smooth music, sweet outfits, and even sweeter prices. The drinks were flowing, the selfies were snapping, and the hashtags were hashtagging.
But now that Jazz is done, the speakers quiet, and the tents packed away… let’s talk about something that doesn’t come with a stage, a spotlight, or a VIP section.
Water.
Yes. That water.
The same water that sometimes decides to take a vacation without notice. The same water that trickles from our taps like it’s shy. The same water we store in barrels like we’re preparing for a hurricane… even when it’s sunny.
Zafèw mon ki la?
No. It’s ours too.
Because when the pipe is dry, it doesn’t ask who you voted for. It doesn’t check if you’re in a gated community or down the road in the valley. It doesn’t care if you just paid your bill yesterday.
Water is not a luxury. It’s not a seasonal attraction. It’s not something we should have to “hope” for like good weather.
We are a country surrounded by water, yet begging for it from our own taps. We boast waterfalls on brochures and crystal blue bays on postcards, but some households still waiting for a steady flow in their kitchen sink.
And let’s be honest — we love to mind people business. We can tell you who building house, who change car, and who travel Miami last week. But when it comes to the water situation? Suddenly it’s:
“Eh eh… leave that alone.”
“Don’t say too much.”
“It is what it is.”
No, it is not “what it is.”
It is infrastructure.
It is management.
It is planning.
It is priority.
Yes, we celebrate. And we should. Tourism feeds the economy. Events bring life. But development cannot stop at the stage front. After the last saxophone note fades, real life continues — cooking, bathing, washing, cleaning, living.
And living requires water.
This is not about blame for sport. It’s about accountability with love for country. Because when something affects all of us — rich, poor, north, south — it stops being “their problem.”
It becomes ours.
Zafèw mon ki la?
No. It’s Saint Lucia’s business. And that means it’s everybody’s business.
Oui papa… now that the music done, let’s fix the pipes too.