Bless Up: The magic of Calabash 2025
a roundup from the world's best literary festival
I’ve admittedly been scarce in these parts. An entire month since my last missive!
What can I say? Life has been very full lately, in the most wonderful of ways…
Because right after the successful close of Nature, Nurture, Nourish—the retreat that I co-curated and hosted in my beloved Treasure Beach, Jamaica (stay tuned for that story: we made literal magic!)—I shifted gears almost immediately to take part in the one-and-only Calabash Festival (held on May 23-25).
If you’re unaware, Calabash is an international literary festival that’s been happening in Treasure Beach ever since 2001. Originally a tiny, rootsy, annual gathering aiming to celebrate Jamaican and Caribbean literature, Calabash has grown into a biannual extravaganza attracting some of the world’s best literary and creative talent. So many of the greats have graced the Calabash stage: Salman Rushdie, Zadie Smith, Joyce Carol Oates, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Pico Iyer…to name but a few.
Always introduced by co-founder (and Poet Laureate of Jamaica) Kwame Dawes as “the best likkle festival in the best likkle village in the best likkle parish in the best likkle country in the world,” Calabash is no simple literary festival.
A cornucopia of goodness
Rather, it’s a total vibe! A cornucopia of goodness, a testament to Jamaica’s creative wellspring, a celebration of the power of words, a whirlwind of color and music and fashion.
And most importantly (in my book):
A reminder that literature and stories are for all. There are no entry fees, tickets or registration required, though donations are welcome (and needed).
This year’s edition of Calabash was the biggest to date, and the theme was ‘Bless Up,’ in recognition of Treasure Beach’s recovery after the devastation of Hurricane Beryl last summer. The community has built back better than ever, and that was on full display over the course of the three days. What a joy it was to witness!
On the menu: “reasonings” (conversations) with 4 Booker Prize winners (Marlon James, Ian McEwan, Shehan Karunatilaka and Michael Ondaatje—who unfortunately couldn’t make it), readings by some of my favorite authors of late (Safiya Sinclair, Alexia Arthurs, Kei Miller, Diana Macaulay and more) and a rousing chat with Emmy-winning actress and writer Sheryl Lee Ralph. But also: an artisan village, the delightful outpost of the Kingston Bookshop (with the opportunity to get your books signed by the featured authors), a food market, gorgeous installations, fun pop-ups, organic happenings, chance encounters…
And because this is Jamaica, you can bet that music featured throughout! The soulful “Midnight Ravers” concert with Zac Jones, Jaz Elise and Mortimer. A sound clash between DJs Bad Gyal Marie and ZJ Liquid, who drove us to kick off our shoes and dance in the grass, hands up in the air. The closing performance of the Calabash Acoustic Ensemble, who did a magnificent tribute to the 50th anniversary of Burning Spear’s iconic “Marcus Garvey” album.
Our common birthright: The Calabash Open Mic
The best part of Calabash though—in my humble opinion—is the Open Mic. Broken into three slots, it’s run by the inimitable Professor Carolyn Cooper, a former professor of literary and cultural studies at the University of the West Indies, Mona and a veritable tour de force.
The rules of the Calabash Open Mic are pretty simple. Everyone gets 3 minutes. You have to sign up on the spot, telling Professor Cooper’s assistant your “day job” and what you’ll be sharing. Then you simply wait to be called, fanning yourself while you bake in the warm Caribbean sunshine. Nerves can run high, but the camaraderie between those who read is a balm.
As I waited my turn, I considered those in line with me. A man celebrating his 90th birthday. A radiologist. A music teacher. A project manager. Several teachers and librarians. A political scientist. A massage therapist. A registered nurse. A civil engineer. A dub poet.
Each of us subject to the same rules and given the same platform. Each hoping for the best during our respective three minutes, some (ahem, ahem) looking for publishers or hoping to launch literary careers. Each walking up onto the same beautiful stage decked with birds of paradise, seashells and coral, the sounds of the waves crashing onto Jack Sprat beach behind us.
Democracy in its purest form, where identities, degrees and titles mean nothing. A reminder that words and expression are our common birthright. A ray of light amidst the darkness in the world, needed now more than ever.
When it was my turn (after a delightful exchange with Professor Cooper), I started with ‘These Words of Mine’ – an ode to poetry and the many ways that it has saved me. What a joy it was to read it on that stage, in the place where this gift literally arrived.
Taking a deep breath, I then launched into a new and even more personal poem: ‘77 West, 17 North.’
You may be aware that my 11-year old son Rohan and I spent 3 weeks in Treasure Beach in the aftermath of the hurricane last year, supporting the relief effort and bearing witness to this amazing community building back with love. It was a journey that changed both of us. I wrote a much longer piece about it, but truth be told:
It’s this poem that’s been seeping out of me bit by bit in the months since then.
To speak it into the universe on that stage—in the presence of my dear friends, friends who are like family—was everything. Calabash reminded us to ‘bless up’ the rebuilding of Treasure Beach after the hurricane, and what a joy and honor it was to pen and share my words about precisely this. What a blessing indeed.
Here’s the recording of my performance, if you’d like to see (with thanks to my dear friend Lina, who travelled all the way from Lithuania!):
“If your only experience of literary festivals are polite, well-mannered affairs inside tents in the British countryside, the Calabash Literary Festival, held on Jamaica’s Treasure Beach, hits differently. It’s not just the setting but the rare joy of seeing a majority-Black audience and roster at a literary event. It’s a festival infused with the magic and fire born of resistance.” — Liv Little, The Guardian
Wonderful account, Ramya
This event sounds glorious, Ramya! And congratulations on reading your work in front of a live audience and your peers. 'Bless Up!'