Residents of Rae Town fishing village, like the inhabitants of Dungle in H. Orlando Patterson's 1964 novel Children of Sisyphus, are still pushing the stone up the hill.

Development of the seaside inner city seems to be going nowhere fast.

"It (life) bad, wi nuh have no work, the community want fix up, we don't have a community centre, we don't have a youth club, nothing nah gwaan," said Latoya, a husky-voiced fish vendor, as she reeled off a litany of complaints.

"Wi community come in like it nuh recognise, it only a pon de map, but it nuh recognise. It stay bad. We just need some help and unity," she wailed.

Latoya, who preferred not to disclose her surname, said parents in the fishing area struggled to keep their children safe from insect-borne diseases like dengue fever and malaria.

Across the road is Greater Rae Town, a community chafing with political and social friction, as are so many of Kingston's inner cities. Though fishing is the only constant source of employment, nothing in the communities say that it is thriving from sales.

It's a hard-knocks life that the residents lead and hunger resides there, too, permanently. When its pangs bite, some residents fill their bellies with the tart fruits that grow on the plum tree in 67-year-old Herbert Asher's yard, near where the mouth of a gully meets the sea. The almond trees are a saviour, as the thick, juicy skins that cover the kernels of the nuts are regular sources of vitamins.

Asher

"All 2 o'clock a night when hungry tek dem, dem come pick de plums jus fi get sup'n inna dem mout .... MP nuh business wid people ... is only when election a come dem come," Asher said. "From (Michael) Manley dead, everything dead."

On Thursday, February 26, when The Gleaner visited, under a big almond tree, sprat was being roasted on a piece of zinc over a wood fire. As smoke rose, children gathered around with almond leaves to receive their share. People sat idling on wood benches, some scaling fish. Scales and guts covered the ground. The compound was overrun by dogs that looked well fed.

Muffet, a fish vendor, was in a confused state, refusing to believe Paul, the missing father of one of her sons, was dead. Later on, she was seen wrapping her head with a piece of black cloth. Under another tree was a group playing board games. Beside them is the mother of the missing fisherman. She had gone to hear the latest, but rescue efforts had been suspended. She doesn't remember Paul's age, but she was confident that he would be found.

"Is like we deh pon de last part a de Earth," is how Asher summed up community members' feelings of isolation.

With oldies music playing in the background, Asher showed The Gleaner what was left of his severely damaged fibreglass boat. He hopes to get some money to fix it.

"Dem (politicians) nah help yuh. Dem nah set no foundation fi yuh change yuh life, so you jus have to live anyway," he said.

paul.williams@gleanerjm.com

In tomorrow's Gleaner: MP Ronnie Thwaites talks about his plans for Rae Town