Six months after the fires, the people of Lahaina try to put their lives back together

Half a year on from catastrophic wildfires that razed the historic town of Lahaina in West Maui, Hawaii, the people and the land are still hurting – and health experts fear the pain could get worse.

I recently spent a week reporting on the deadliest American wildfire in more than a century, which killed one-hundred people and destroyed 2,200 structures – mostly homes in working-class neighbourhoods. Lahaina, which once served as the capital of the Hawaiian kingdom, was one of the few places in West Maui where ordinary folks working in the island’s vast tourism industry could afford to live.

More on what I found, after this week’s climate reads.

Six months on from the fires, almost half of the survivors, 5,000 or so, were still in emergency hotel accommodation, struggling to grieve and navigate the labyrinth of post-disaster bureaucracy amid throngs of Hawaii holidaymakers. Anger and despondency has been growing as survivors feel pressured to move off island or accept apartments far from work and school – even though West Maui has thousands of short-term vacation rentals. “As soon as I wake up, there’s a physical tightness in my chest. How can we dream about rebuilding when we don’t have a stable home?” said Diana Tevaga, 40, whose entire extended family lost their homes.

It was jarring, to put it mildly, to see bikini clad tourists and whale-watching tours march past a protest camp set up to demand housing justice and a moratorium on tourism. Hawaii’s governor, Josh Green, reopened Maui to tourists at the end of October, spending millions in marketing campaigns urging visitors to save the island – despite residents’ pleas to wait until fire survivors had been rehoused. “Drinking mai tais will not save our economy, tourism is stripping us of our land and water resources,” said local organizer Jordan Ruidas, co-founder of Lahaina Strong. The pandemic made many question the island’s dependence on tourism, but the fire was the last straw for Miriam Keo, who recently left a union job at an upscale resort after 16 years. “I don’t want to serve tourists any more. This isn’t what our ancestors would want,” said Keo, 40. “I want to be a better steward for my people and our Āina [land].”

As the Guardian’s climate justice reporter, this trip underlined the importance of going back to communities hit by extreme weather disasters. Lahaina is still a mess of scorched rubble, with efforts to remove the toxic debris only just getting under way. There is only one main road in and out of West Maui, so survivors must drive past the charred remnants of their lives. Traffic jams, high winds and sirens trigger flashbacks and anxiety, as many struggle to process their grief.

It’s hard to think about what could happen five or 10 or 20 years from now, but Dr Lorrin Pang, Maui’s top public health officer, told me that the “disaster after the disaster is the most scary for human health”. The clean-up is only just getting underway and lead, asbestos and toxic synthetic compounds linked to cancers and birth defects have been found in the debris and ash. Yet the state has so far not placed any air-quality monitors inside hotels, clinics or schools where ash particles can blow and settle. “The more information we have, the better prepared we can be for what’s down the line,” said Pang. “But you’ve got to want to know.”

Tracking the long-term consequences of any disaster is surprisingly patchy, given the huge burden exposure to such toxins can pose for survivors, first responders, water and food supplies, and the public purse. But in Maui, a groundbreaking prevention study led by researchers at the University of Hawaii (UH) is trying to do just that. According to the preliminary findings, rates of depression, respiratory problems, kidney abnormalities, and food insecurity are soaring among survivors. “We want to prevent what happened after 9/11 and other disasters, so that political decision-makers can intervene early,” said UH professor Ruben Juarez.

This will be the largest post-disaster exposure study of its kind – if researchers can raise enough funds to track 2,000 survivors and first responders over the next 10 years. Early detection of inflammation in the cells, or lung disease or clinical depression could help affected survivors access timely medical and psychosocial care to prevent and intervene early.

I first visited Maui a couple of years ago for a story about Indigenous Hawaiian farmers recreating ancient food forests to boost food sovereignty and climate resilience as part of a growing land back movement. Now, this work is even more urgent, as moving to regenerative agriculture and a circular food economy will be key to transitioning away from extractive tourism and rebuilding a more climate resilient Lahaina.

Read more on the Hawaii wildfires:

The good news

The bad news

Down to Earth readers on the eco-friendly changes they made for the planet

Inspired by her mother’s garden of unusual plants, reader Charis Estelle Olney, has fostered a gardenful of local flora of her own, including nettle-leaved figwort, Scandix pecten-veneris, wild carrot, pimpernel, jerusalem sage, geraniums and a patch of wild fennel that is now called home by a group of butterflies.

“Wildflowers can be attractive, so leaving some in the garden provides pollen for bee and butterfly species – there are many with bright flowers that are rich in pollen,” Olney recommends. “If they are too tall and get in the way you can simply cut them so they can grow again at a lower level.“

One word of warning, however: “I try to only take a few seeds because I want them to reproduce in their natural habitat and the garden.”

Let us know the positive change you’ve made in your life by replying to this newsletter, or emailing us on downtoearth@theguardian.com

Profiling the Earth’s most at-risk animals

Population: Unknown but declining globally
Location: Pacific Ocean, east Africa coast
Status: Vulnerable

Plump, with a dolphin-like tail, and wearing a seemingly perpetual smile, dugongs are often confused with manatees. But these rare mammals live strictly in the sea. Threatened by illegal fishing, disease, pollution, and climate change, this herbivore is believed to have inspired mermaid myths, and has gone extinct in several areas.

For more on wildlife at threat, visit the Age of Extinction page here

One image that sums up the week in environmental news

Credit: Adrian Sherratt/The Guardian

This week, Guardian reporter Patrick Barkham reported from Somerset, England, about a community who have come together to protect their local toad population during mating season.

“Before the toad rescue was set up on Charlcombe Lane, more than 60% of the crossing frogs and toads were crushed by cars,” Patrick discovered on a night with the group. “Now the death rate is down to 3% thanks to the volunteers, who also raise £1,500 each year to pay for the road to be closed for the six-week migration season.”

For more of the week’s best environmental pictures, catch up on The Week in Wildlife here