Safiya Sinclair Explores the Depths of Her Past: Unveiling ‘How to Say Babylon’

Out here I spent my early childhood in a wild state of happiness,

stretched out under the almond trees fed by brine, relishing every fish eye like precious candy, my toes dipped in the sea’s milky lapping.

The Jamaican poet, Safiya Sinclair, recalls her idyllic upbringing by the water in her memoir. Growing up just beyond the postcard version of Jamaica, Sinclair has been writing about her island since she was a teenager. Her poetry vividly depicts the lush landscapes and native wildlife of Jamaica, leaving a haunting impression. Now, in her new memoir, Sinclair brings the same land to life while delving into her past through prose.

How to Say Babylon chronicles Sinclair’s journey to break free from her strict Rastafari father’s control. The rebellion is fueled by her memories of the seaside, which was her first home, and the poetry that opened up a path beyond the island. This memoir is not only a tale of survival but also a coming-of-age story through art.

The title of the book, How to Say Babylon, refers to the Rastafari term for the source of the world’s injustice. It represents the colonial violence, the chains of Christianity, and the Western ideologies that sought to destroy the Black community. Sinclair’s father became increasingly paranoid about her safety in this corrupt world. Anything he deemed impure or too Western was seen as evidence of Babylon infiltrating their lives. He moved his family away from the sea, cutting them off from her mother’s worldly relatives. The memoir details Sinclair’s experiences growing up in different locations within Jamaica, highlighting the conflicts at home.

In How to Say Babylon, Sinclair weaves together her personal story with Jamaica’s political history, the natural world, and their interplay. The contrast between the different environments she knew mirrors the conflicting memories she has of her parents’ lives. Sinclair describes her parents as embodiments of the elements that make up Jamaica, defining their Jamaican identity. Nature and learning provided solace for Sinclair amidst her father’s control.

Even when she attended an expensive private school on scholarship, Sinclair faced discrimination and mockery from her classmates and teachers. As the only Rasta student and one of the few Black Jamaicans, she became a target for their discomfort with the island’s Blackness and poverty. Sinclair refuses to assign simplistic meanings to these typical coming-of-age moments, instead capturing the larger societal discomfort with the Rastafari community.

The memoir delves into the intricate connections between Sinclair’s family conflicts and the surrounding ecosystems. Sinclair’s prose vividly etches the landscapes, bringing to life the histories that shaped Jamaica’s diverse landscapes. Drawing from the Caribbean literary tradition, Sinclair creates a metaphorical map of her homeland, highlighting her love for her home and her struggles with identity.

Despite the family’s isolation in various hillside housing compounds, their troubles are not isolated. Sinclair’s personal revelations are intertwined with the larger climate of inequality and isolation faced by her parents from a young age. Djani and Esther, Sinclair’s parents, met each other at a party, both searching for meaning and connection. Inspired by the Rastafari movement, a nonviolent movement rooted in Black empowerment and equality, they moved to a commune together. Djani, in particular, found solace in the teachings of Haile Selassie, the Ethiopian emperor considered the promised Black Messiah by the Rastafari community.

Djani’s income as a reggae musician was unstable, and Sinclair describes the impact of his disappointing music career within the larger context of colonization and economic disenfranchisement. The Beach Control Act of Jamaica, which denies Jamaicans inherent rights to their coastline, further exacerbates the social and economic disparities faced by Jamaicans. Sinclair’s family, like many others, was trapped in poverty, unable to access the valuable natural resources their own country offered.

Sinclair paints a picture of her family’s fishing village, which was threatened by the construction of an airport and the introduction of hotels that catered to tourists while excluding locals. Sinclair’s great-grandfather managed to hold on to their humble seaside living quarters, despite the diminishing coral reefs that affected their livelihood. Today, Jamaicans have limited access to their own beaches due to ownership by companies that privatize them.

Through her deep dives into Jamaican history, Sinclair captures both the collective grief and joy of her homeland. She skillfully weaves observations of the world around her into her memoir, creating an expansive narrative. How to Say Babylon not only tells the story of Sinclair’s personal journey but also sheds light on the larger socioeconomic and political issues faced by Jamaica.

Reference

Denial of responsibility! Vigour Times is an automatic aggregator of Global media. In each content, the hyperlink to the primary source is specified. All trademarks belong to their rightful owners, and all materials to their authors. For any complaint, please reach us at – [email protected]. We will take necessary action within 24 hours.
Denial of responsibility! Vigour Times is an automatic aggregator of Global media. In each content, the hyperlink to the primary source is specified. All trademarks belong to their rightful owners, and all materials to their authors. For any complaint, please reach us at – [email protected]. We will take necessary action within 24 hours.
DMCA compliant image

Leave a Comment