More Than Mas: One Image, A Thousand Truths About Sugar Mas 54
I am, and always will be a storyteller at heart. After more than 16 years as a journalist, I’m often told that I don’t know how to simply live in the moment-that I’m always searching for the story. While there may be some truth to that, I don’t necessarily look, they just jump out at me, unbidden. It’s a blessing I guess, to be able to “see” so much of us. This piece is, admittedly, a little sentimental. But I’ve found myself returning to this particular image again and again, drawn by its quiet power and the many truths it holds about culture, continuity, and who we are. Its impact on me was too profound not to share, so here goes…
Carnival, to me, is colour in motion – an unfolding conversation between past and present, where joy carries meaning, movement holds memory, and the road becomes both stage and classroom.
Carnivals in the Caribbean – (for the sake of this discourse) Sugar Mas specifically- may be fleeting by design, filled with once in a lifetime moments that disappear into memory. This, in my opinion, is why the work of photographers and videographers matter so deeply. They are the quiet archivists of the ritual, tasked with seeing what the rest of us are often too busy dancing through. Through their lenses, Carnival, this most sacred of rituals, can be paused, studied, allowing us to return to moments we felt but may not have fully seen or appreciated.
Amidst the swirl of colour and revelry, there are moments that rise above the noise and linger long after the music fades – moments that remind us that Carnival is not only something we see, but something we inherit. This image, captured during the Kiddies Parade, is one of them.
At its centre is a striking intergenerational tableau: a towering masquerader – a Moko Jumbie – in full costume, legs stretched high above the crowd, balanced and commanding, while below, a young child moves with confidence and joy. Together, they form a living symbol of what Kiddies Carnival represents – heritage carried forward, quite literally, on young shoulders.
The towering figure, clad in the bold red, green, and black of national identity, evokes the ancestral strength and theatrical flair that have long been hallmarks of Caribbean masquerade. Elevated above the street, they appear almost otherworldly – protector, performer, and tradition-bearer all at once. Below, the child dances freely, unencumbered, absorbed in the moment, embodying the future of the very culture being upheld.
This is the quiet power of Kiddies Carnival.
What matters most is not the spectacle, but the exposure it offers, the participation it invites, and the belonging it affirms. Children are not placed at the margins of Carnival – they are invited into its centre, where they learn by doing, feeling, and moving through the culture that shapes them.
The image captures and stunningly portrays Carnival as community, rooted in shared experience and collective joy. There is trust here – trust between performers, trust in tradition, trust that culture will endure because it is shared early and shared often. The child is not merely watching Carnival happen; he is part of it, grounded yet lifted by the generations before them.
In one frame, Sugar Mas tells its story… Past and future meet in the road. Strength and innocence move in cadence. Culture, vibrant and alive, continues its journey – not as something preserved behind glass, but as something tangible and proudly lived.
Sentimentality at work? Maybe. My love for Carnival and all things culture influencing me to romanticise or read too deeply into this single frame? Maybe.
Even so, for me, this photograph has already won Sugar Mas 54. It keeps calling me back and serves as a reminder of the “why” that continues to fuel our Carnival.
