
Visit to Middle Region, St Maarten
Places that are created by humans but that feel inhumane. In August 2025 Lyongo was in such a place; in Middle Region, on St. Maarten. He shares his thoughts on the visit to the area. A neighborhood where the homes of its residents often consist of nothing more than four sheets of plywood and a few pieces of zinc.
“I was grateful to walk with Fernando, who was born and raised here, and could tell me more about the area since he is the community council president of Middle Region. Alone, I would never have dared. Not because I was afraid of what could happen to me, but because I was afraid of the reality I would see… Fernando lives in a house on the main road of Middle Region. Part of his family’s land has been taken by others to build their home. This often happens here without the landowner’s permission—purely out of necessity, just to have somewhere to live.”
Slums within the Dutch Kingdom
In the Netherlands, Lyongo often uses Middle Region in his presentations to show a different side of St. Maarten—the reality that exists alongside the known tropical images. “St. Maarten, the island I called home for quite some time. An island with challenges. In these presentations, I often say that we have slums within the Dutch Kingdom. But because of the constant disbelief in the audience, time and time again, I almost started to doubt it myself… Yet here I was. It wasn’t just a story, but a reality. A reality for thousands who live on St. Maarten, an island that is entirely in service of the tourist’s pleasure. And this part of the island doesn’t fit with the image of a tropical paradise. So we push it aside, pretend it doesn’t exist, and for over 30 years let generation after generation be shaped by this inhuman environment.”
Thankfully, there are people who manage to climb out of it. They manage to shape their lives in such a way that they can move to a neighborhood with better living conditions. But what scars does the experience of living in these circumstances leave behind? Moreover, not everyone gets the same opportunities—or knows how to seize them. This also requires courage, strength, and perseverance. Which you can’t expect from everyone, especially if your daily life already constantly demands this from you.
The overwhelming feeling
“Sometimes enthusiasm can cloud your perception of reality. As much as St. Maarten still feels like home, and as well as I know it, walking through these streets, along the rocks and greenery was intense. A year and a half ago we walked through a barrio in Medellín with our team, but this area somehow felt heavier. The scale here is smaller but the intensity greater—at least in my experience. Houses stand less than a meter apart, and between them ran a path, sometimes paved, but more often just some rocks lying around. And then the realization hits you; that this is home for so many…”
During their walk, Fernando greeted everyone. Sometimes it was simply a nod that said, “I see you, and you see me.” But more often it was a gesture of genuine warmth and friendliness. “Family, strangers, or strangers who had become like family—it made no difference. People came and went: documented and undocumented, regulated and unregulated, structured and unstructured. Everyone lives together. What appeared to be a larger house was often divided into several smaller units, each with its own front door. My architect’s mind felt unsettled, struggling to make sense of it – and I even felt a bit hopeless. With my intelligence, experience, and passion—what could I do that would make a difference for these people?”
Lyongo wanted to capture what he saw and felt, so he took a few photos as you can see in this article. “But I couldn’t make a lot of pictures. The weight of their reality often made photographing feel inappropriate, almost intrusive. At times, I couldn’t even lift the camera—simply because I was too overwhelmed. And that feeling didn’t disappear when I left the neighborhood. Not even in the days that followed—even then, it lingered and the images couldn’t leave my mind…”
In conclusion
The gap between rich and poor on St. Maarten is immense. And you feel it, constantly. Whether you’re part of it or only see it in the photos. Lyongo’s experience raised an unsettling question: does the economic model we rely on only survives by allowing this inhumane situation to persist? Perhaps that is the hardest truth to face: that beauty and suffering can exist side by side on the same island, unseen by many, ignored by most. For us, silence cannot be an answer. Change is needed to achieve greater equality. We are working on a new school (Sister Marie Laurence School) in Middle Region and want to see how we, as designers, can further help people achieve better living conditions.







