A resident of the Lough Funshinagh area has described the ongoing ordeal being experienced by people there as “a humanitarian crisis”.
In a letter to the Roscommon People (below) Avril Dowd-Cloonan writes: “The nightmare is now ongoing since 2016, with families living on a continual sword edge and voices floating into the abyss”.
Expressing concern for wildlife, she says it is “quite depressing to see the number of wildfowl dwindle as a result of being left homeless”.
On the wider issue of the fate of residents in the area – arising from the flooding crisis – she says: “The local media flurry has now died off, and the families along the shorelines feel abandoned”.
Rahara,
Athleague,
Co Roscommon
Dear Editor,
I sit here writing this letter as the rain beats against the kitchen window. One cannot but wonder what is to come next. The saga continues. The saga of the flooding along the shores of Lough Funshinagh, Rahara, Co. Roscommon, that is.
One family were forced out of their home over two years ago because of the flooding, and their home was demolished shortly thereafter. The only evidence of them ever having lived there is a remaining boundary wall and a pink cabbage rose, which stands firm.
The nightmare is now ongoing since 2016, with families living on a continual sword edge and voices floating into the abyss. We are informed by government officials that the matter must go through Europe, which could take between three and five years. I am afraid that will be too little, too late. At that stage, there will be three houses lost, with the possibility of up to seven, dependant on rainwater levels. This is a humanitarian crisis. We have had meetings after meetings, with no glimmer of hope or relief in sight.
As an avid nature lover who runs the shoreline most days, it is quite depressing to see the number of wildfowl dwindle as a result of being left homeless. Our resident hooper swans are depleted from flocks of twenty or thirty, to seven or eight maximum. The local media flurry has now died off, and the families along the shorelines feel abandoned.
As a concerned resident and nature lover living along the shoreline, I will be most grateful if you would include my letter and poem in your next edition as a means of keeping our voices alive.
Yours sincerely,
Avril Dowd-Cloonan
Lough Funshinagh Grá
Avril Dowd-Cloonan
She arouses an awe with a hive of sur-veil-lance,
So tall and so slender with a stature so delicate.
Albeit disguised with a tension so brave,
To mention the hooper on the shoreline so faint.
Burning fiercely bright with caution of rising tide,
A mother calls children – stand firm with neighbourly aid.
Care and respect to the water with an eye on con-niving raid,
We fight for our Lakelands where the bleating nare fades.
Courageously red and rising relentlessly above,
The love of the land feeds abundance of love.
When the lake will recede craves a village of peace,
Arc of fields for the wildfowl, we’re the voice that they breathe.
Plough on precious poppies and flutter the breeze,
Lough Funshinagh our beast will come to an ease.
The cobwebs are falling and soon a great light,
All standing together in this persistent great fight.
The land will return when the blackbird soars strong,
Burning souls’ choir together as the rhythm lives on.
Won’t the suits lose the red tape and join our great plight.
Céad míle fáilte from Rahara, but hurry, it’s such a sad sight.
