The face of Olma Mariaa widow 70 years old, is marked by sadness and a deep pain that is reflected in his dull gaze. Life has taken so many things from him, and now he faces the devastation of his home. The recent rains that have hit the region of Samana They have left a deep mark on their hearts when they see the deterioration of their home.
The walls of the house, which once stood firm and full of memories, are now broken, overcome by the unstoppable humidity. The leaks are heard like whispers in every corner and they do not stop.
Nightmare
The rain makes the ground, which once welcomed their footsteps, now unsafe to walk on. The roof, which his son once carefully cared for and repaired, can no longer withstand the onslaught of rainfall. Water seeps everywhere, ruining what little he has left, as the kitchen, once a place of life and warmth, is now permeated with a putrid smell.
“Every time it rains, I feel like I’m sinking with the house. I no longer have anyone. I only have this,” said Olma, pointing out how her home is collapsing in front of her and the authorities do not provide her with help.
The house he built is now a faithful reflection of his own fragility, and his deep loneliness. The rain not only ruined her appliances and clothes, but also turns her memories into a bitter pill, those she shared with her son, who was the only one who took care of her until death took him from her a few years ago.
Now, Olga faces alone, without strength, and without resources, the most difficult battle of her life: living with the floods as she does not have the resources and vigor to face this enemy that affects her and the entire neighborhood. . “All this is ruined… and I can’t take it anymore.”
Attempt to help
The rains that have fallen have severely affected the area.
Neighbors have witnessed the destructive passage of water. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Everything I’ve tried to stop the water is in vain. Nothing works,” he said with a broken voice, as he looks at the soaked sheets and towels drowning in the mud of his home.
Also his clothes have gone with the current. The house is no longer a refuge but a constant cruel reminder of what was lost. “I have nothing more than this pain… and the house that is collapsing,” Olma lamented, looking at the ceiling. Every rain, every drop that enters, is one more wound in a life that has already lost more than it could bear. Together with the house everything seems to be falling apart irremediably. And, as the water continues to pour in, all Olga can do is hope that, one day, the sun will shine again on what is left of her life. But that hope, like the house he built, seems to fade with each passing storm.
