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‘Out of many, one’: Inside Jamaica’s carnival celebrations
Carnival in Jamaica 202523 Images
Out of many, one (people) – everyone knows the saying and the island to which it orbits; a mecca across the Caribbean, an island that’s able to contribute to cultural ethers globally, across sport, art, music, dance, food and more, its prowess maintained each generation.
As it pertains to inter-Caribbean practice, such as carnival, however, the island is a relatively new adopter. As a fixture, carnival lays roots in Trinidad and Tobago, in the 18th century but really taking shape across the 1800s. Once slavery ended, the hybrid of African tradition and creole cultural influence allowed carnival to modernise inclusive of soca/calypso homage, references to steel pan and dance, and mas (masquerade attire). Barbados, would go on to adopt cropover, and other islands like Dominica, Grenada, Haiti have adopted their own carnival practice too.
Courtesy of Jamaican Tourism Board
Jamaica successfully launched their own iteration late last century, with their first Mas in April 1990, it’s grown in its 35 years of existence. Landing in Kingston, for 2025’s edition of Carnival In Jamaica, the island and my ancestral home, already attempted to court visitors and I into submission. Caribbean Airlines partnership with Norman Manley airport meant that a duo of masqueraders moved in unison to Machel Montano’s now infamous “PARDY” – the official ‘road’ song for Trinidad’s 2025 carnival, and prolific amongst other islands that have followed since. It’s a spiritual, jubilant, song of liberation speaking to the power of carnival, communal partying, the love of soca, the adrenaline induced freedom in the bacchanal. “We work so hard every week, we deserve a party, yeah, yeah,” Machel croons, the zestful bass of his Trinidadian accent warm against the backdrop of applause. There and then, I woke up, the joy eclipsed my 12-plus hours of travel. West Indian tradition was more important.
Hosted by the Jamaican Tourism Board, and after a welcomed arrival at Kingston’s Courtyard Marriott hotel to unpack, we were quickly immersed in carnival activity, by way of our first fete Illuminate. Fete’s officially usher in carnival seasons, immersed in unapologetically West Indian activity: food, loads of soca (and wider genres at times), and theatre – you dress with pride and adhering to theme. “PARDY” indeed played again, reinforcing its cross-island dominance and love amongst carnivalists around the world, but Illuminate also revealed distinct markers of difference across the islands manifestation and interpretation of carnival. Amongst soca, vintage dancehall classics like “Pon de River, Pon de Bank” roared from speakers across Sabina Park. Immediately my mind raced back to memories of signalling the plane and giving them a run — infamous Elephant Man instructed dances that rose in popularity after the song’s early new millennium release.
It was a reminder of the diversity I’d heard about in relation to Jamaica. Carnival season here doesn’t just spotlight soca, but reggae and dancehall too. It’s an adjustment to Grenada’s Spicemas, in which soca is dominant, but reminiscent of London’s Notting Hill Carnival, where, due to sound-system culture, other genres can be heard on the road – outside of masqueraders and bands, and indeed within some bands themselves. Considering the recent history of Jamaica’s carnival, it’s easy to see why modern tradition and embrace of wider genres on home soil has come to be, despite the topic of soca vs wider genres being a debate amongst the diaspora. Here, the context aligns with Jamaica’s carnival history, although the buoyancy of a soca eclipse of Spicemas added to its appeal, in Jamaica, it’s played often enough not to lose its pull.
Courtesy of Jamaican Tourism Board
Across the trip, other fetes such as RYTZ continued to showcase the breadth of West Indian artistry. From Trinidad’s Tony X to the Bahamian hailing Ovadose, a convergence of DJ and MC talent graced the stage, a hot-bed of multifaceted musical entertainment. It was a reminder of the island’s unrivalled ability to entertain, and at the night’s peak, everyone was glued to the pulse of the dancefloor. So much so, that the sharp 3am ending felt tame. Fetes can and have gone on to the early hours of the morning so naturally, attendees collectively didn’t feel ready for the festivities to end – an unexpectedly responsible act of the island here, especially across carnival.
J’ouvert, an official marker of carnival in Jamaica – and indeed carnivals across the Caribbean – marked an interesting intersection, a juxtaposition of commercial and liberating. As a West Indian, J’ouvert, a celebration laying roots in slaves mocking their masters, always feels liberating to me wherever, whenever. From West London to roads that form St. George. In Jamaica’s Independence Park the fete or performance led affair provided a different J’ouvert presentation. Still complete with paint and powder throwing at regular intervals (a fixture of the affair throughout the islands and wider world), J’ouvert felt a touch formal. Still, it served its purpose of building pre-carnival adrenaline for all.
Carnival In Jamaica’s official proceedings – the formal one day road march – finally arrived bringing with it an unapologetically Kingston affair. Pole-work across road signs, ducking to avoid wining into barbed wires – atop the Tourist Boards official road truck – and partying through a 30 minute spell of rain, Jamaicans and guests to the island were engulfed in the paean of dancehall, soca, reggae, and even one to two afrobeats songs across the day. It’s a reminder of Jamaica’s commitment to doing things and practice on its own terms, in its own way, even veering to the unconventional to maintain its distinction. Once that’s established and accepted, one can enjoy what’s in front of them; a bespoke take on bacchanal.
Courtesy of Jamaican Tourism Board
Carnival in Jamaica isn’t like its east Caribbean counterparts, but even within soca parameters a Mas Domnik varies from a Spicemas, one immersed in jab jab soca, the other swaying more towards bouyon. Jamaica presents a wider proposition in its musical palette and in the presentation of its practices like J’ouvert. However, beyond the practicalities, carnival in Jamaica is still a West Indian embrace, still committed to growing year by year – this year it grew by 15.5 per cent global visitors.
If carnival in Jamaica wants globalisation, then it already provides a hybrid that enthralls visitors in regards to Jamaican creations like dancehall whilst acknowledging and credentialing practices like J’ouvert and soca notes throughout. More bands would be welcomed on the road for people to choose from and a single road path for all bands would allow audiences to truly appreciate the diversity of them all. In Spicemas, for example, bands follow the same carnival route; it’s a similar story for Notting Hill too, sticking to tradition, in this sense, allows for more cohesion. There’s grace provided as carnival In Jamaica is still in its infancy, but it’s impressive to see how far they’ve come and in viewing the spectacle that is a unique addition to the carnival canon. A uniquely enjoyable time on the island that still felt like an embrace on my lineage and our cultural practice.
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