M.D. Walker

An evocative memoir- poignant, piercing and touching. This a book that you can simply experience as a memoir. Or you can marvel at how multilayered this story is. I highly recommend this book as you’ll be captivated by the story of this Jamaican girl/woman growing up in a Rastafarian household in Jamaica. It’s a story we think we know, but we don’t know. It’s one of those stories where a lot is left unsaid and those unspoken words live between the empty spaces on each page. I’m left with the impression there’s much not said when an author writes about people who are mostly still alive. It’s a story woven from poetry. It’s a story steeped in the folkloric and natural imagery of Jamaica. It’s a narrative that takes inspiration from some of the world’s great literary sources from Greek mythology, Sylvia Plath, the Bible, Hebrew folklore to Toni Morrison. Sinclair’s memoir is a searing commentary on life in Jamaica. Jamaica as a place of plenty and a place of very little. Sinclair’s family struggles to make ends meet, but there’s a scene where her father goes into the bush in the morning and comes back with a bounty of fruits: sugarcane, oranges and more on his morning walk. She talks about her schoolmates who are so wealthy, they have a country homes and her family lives in only rented homes. The island of contradictions. Jamaica’s colonial history is a central motif within the story. It still informs Jamaica today and informed Sinclair’s and her siblings lives and the lives of all Jamaicans. The merciless beatings they took from their father are reminiscent of the slave masters whip. She references the neighbour’s child who screams for her life when she’s beat regularly by her own guardian. You cannot help but make a connection between the violence that plagues Jamaica and the abuse suffered by many children up and down the country in the name of ‘discipline’. But it’s often misplaced rage, unresolved trauma and unfulfilled potential. The slave masters whip reaches through the divide of history and time constantly breaking our spirit. With every generation, these beatings create both criminals and people with unexpressed rage, we keep passing on and on, never breaking the cycle. The book touches on the forgotten history of the treatment of Rastafarians in Jamaica, a persecuted minority whose peaceful way of life was disrupted and demonised, changing the trajectory of the life of anyone who wears locs (who is not famous or wealthy). Djani, Sinclair’s father knows this too well. Jamaica benefits from the international image of the Rasta and their music whilst still persecuting them at home. Her brother in 21st century Jamaica cannot study and practice law with dreadlocks is truly shocking. It’s a story about a girl/woman and her father that’s soured by the marginalised roles inhabited by females within the Rastafarian faith and her desires to subvert those roles not just for herself but her sisters and mothers. Sinclair is a brilliant writer. I’d have love to give this book 5 stars instead of 4, but it could have done with some editing in parts where it was repetitive. The writer and editor needed to trust the memory of the reader as we make our way through this story. This is still a captivating story.