West Maui, with its sun-soaked beaches and pristine waters, is a slice of heaven for many. But not long ago, this paradise became a fiery hell. The scenic beauty of this Hawaiian region was consumed by angry flames, revealing a dark web of hidden truths and shadowy powers.
Hawaiian Electric, the alleged torchbearer of the blaze, had the audacity to dismiss the looming fire risks associated with their power lines. The smoking gun? They were warned. Four years of warnings whispered in the hallways of their corporate offices, and yet the people saw no change.
Why, you ask? Look no further than the global financial giants puppeteering Hawaiian Electric: Vanguard and BlackRock. These titans have been evangelizing a new-age religion of clean energy. But here’s the catch: for a ‘clean‘ future, perhaps the present needs to burn? Some mavericks suggest that, in their zeal to “build back better,” the establishment might let the old world crumble—even if it’s under the scorching wrath of nature.
And on that fateful day in Maui, while homes burned and memories turned to ash, a sophisticated warning system—a guardian angel that had never failed its people before—stayed silent. It wasn’t a glitch; it wasn’t an error. The system had been muted, leaving the unsuspecting residents of West Maui deaf to the approaching calamity.
At the heart of this unforgivable betrayal? The director of this state-of-the-art system. Instead of safeguarding his community, he was sipping cocktails and hobnobbing in Waikiki’s Aloha Lani Resort. Cloaked under the guise of a FEMA disaster seminar, he chose networking over lives. His defense? He didn’t want a stampede. But as the flames roared, children found themselves abandoned, schools left vacant, dreams destroyed. A “stampede“? That’s the price of silence.
But that’s not the end of this distressing tale. In a cruel twist of fate, when the desperate residents turned to their lifeline—the water supply system—it failed them. Dry hydrants stared back, mocking their pleas for mercy. And who was at the helm? The deputy director of Water Resource Management, handpicked by none other than the Obama Foundation. Amidst the blaze, his concerns were not the fires but “equity discussions.” Bureaucracy over burning lives!
If the water betrayal wasn’t heart-wrenching enough, the very protectors of the people—the police—became their jailers. Residents, choked by smoke and despair, found their paths blocked by the very forces meant to save them. Orders from where? From whom? The police chief, with ties to the eerie 2017 Las Vegas incident, maintains a silence that’s deafening.
It’s a tale of a paradise lost—a community betrayed by its guardians, its lifelines, its defenders. The lingering smoke of West Maui bears witness to a chilling narrative: of unchecked power, misplaced priorities, and a haunting indifference to human life.
As the embers cool and the healing begins, the resilient spirit of the Maui community demands answers. No longer can they be placated with empty promises or distracted by red tape. It’s time for accountability, for transparency, and most importantly, an assurance that this dark chapter will never be revisited.
They say fire purifies.
Perhaps the West Maui fires will cleanse the system, revealing a truth that’s been hidden for far too long.
Only time will tell, but one thing’s for sure—the people of Maui won’t be silenced.
Not now. Not ever.