INTERNATIONAL REGGAE ARTIST BUJU BANTON COMES OUT OF THE CLOSET!

Introduction

Family, today I want to take you on a journey — a journey through time, culture, and contradictions. Do you remember the early 1990s, when a young artist by the name of Mark Myrie, better known to the world as Buju Banton, shook Jamaica and the international stage with one song?

That song was "Boom Bye Bye". An anthem to some, a disgrace to others, but without question, a song that became a global controversy. It wasn't just music. It was a reflection of Jamaica's deep-seated culture of hyper-masculinity and hostility toward homosexuals.

Now, fast forward more than 30 years. The world has changed. Attitudes have shifted. People who once shouted condemnation now find themselves confronted by a reality they cannot escape: the truth always comes out.

And so, today's discussion is not just about Buju Banton, the man. It is about what he represents: the double lives, the hypocrisies, and the hidden truths that have shaped Jamaican culture for decades. This is about more than music. This is about the future of a people trapped between lies and liberation.

Jamaica, Music, and Morality

Music in Jamaica has never been just entertainment. It has been a pulpit, a weapon, and a mirror of society. From ska to reggae to dancehall, our artists have carried the voice of the ghetto, the struggles of the poor, and the frustrations of the youth.

But let's be honest. Along with that, truth-telling has come a dangerous glorification of violence, sexism, and hatred. When Buju sang "Boom Bye Bye,'' it wasn't simply his voice — it was the voice of a society that normalized the idea that being gay was not just wrong but punishable by death.

Think about that for a moment. A song calling for the execution of a group of people was celebrated, cheered, and played like an anthem in street dances. And what did that do? It gave young people the impression that violence was not only acceptable but righteous.

And the same hypocrisy appeared elsewhere: artists condemning homosexuality while glorifying murder. Preachers condemning "battyman” while secretly preying on children in their congregations. Politicians are passing laws to criminalize poor men in the ghetto while cutting backroom deals with known dons.

Music, morality, and hypocrisy became intertwined in the Jamaican identity.

Hypocrisy and Transformation

Let us talk about hypocrisy, because that is the heart of this matter. Buju Banton became a symbol of that contradiction. On one hand, he was a militant voice against homosexuality. On the other hand, years later, after his release from prison and following reflection, he came forward speaking about love, unity, and freedom.

Some people saw that as growth. Others saw it as betrayal. But what it really exposed is that many of us, as Jamaicans, live double lives. We say one thing in public and do another in private.

Ask yourself: how many men in Jamaica publicly condemn homosexuality, yet behind closed doors, are involved in the very same lifestyle they pretend to hate? How many preachers thunder fire and brimstone from the pulpit on a Sunday, but spend the week indulging in the very sins they preach against?

Hypocrisy destroys integrity. It eats away at trust. And Buju, willingly or unwillingly, has become a mirror that reflects this painful truth: Jamaica is full of contradictions.

Jamaican Society and the Closet

Now, let's dive deeper. Jamaica is one of the most homophobic places on earth. That's not my opinion. That is how international human rights groups, journalists, and scholars describe us. Our laws are colonial, handed down from Britain. Our culture is influenced by religion and hyper-masculinity.

But here is the irony: while we condemn homosexuality loudly, gay culture exists and thrives underground. In the fashion industry. In the beauty industry. In dancehall itself. Even in politics. Many of the people who fund the very artists that chant "fire bun battyman” are themselves gay or lesbian.

So, who are we fooling? The world sees the hypocrisy. We can pretend all we want, but the truth cannot stay hidden forever.

And here is the bigger point: when hypocrisy becomes normal, society collapses. Look around Jamaica today. Young people are confused. They see adults preaching morality while living in corruption. They see politicians talking about justice while shaking hands with criminals. They see artists condemning one group while secretly engaging in the same acts.

This is why our murder rate is so high. This is why our trust in leadership is so low. Because we have built a culture of lies, and lies can never give birth to truth.

Lessons for the Youth

Now, young people, I want to talk directly to you. You are the future of Jamaica. And you have a choice.

Do you want to grow up repeating the lies of the past? Or do you want to be free?

Freedom is not about money or power. Freedom is about truth. And truth requires courage. Courage to live authentically. Courage to break away from hypocrisy.

Marcus Garvey, Jamaica's first national hero, said it best: "Emancipate yourselves from mental Slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds."

Mental Slavery is when society forces you to hate yourself, hide who you are, and live a double life. Mental Slavery is when a man condemns homosexuality in public but indulges in it in private. Mental Slavery is when a preacher tells you to be holy while exploiting the weak behind closed doors.

Young people, you deserve better. You deserve to build a Jamaica where truth is not a crime, where hypocrisy does not govern our music, our politics, or our lives.

The Way Forward

So where do we go from here?

We must confront hypocrisy wherever it hides. In the church. In parliament. In dancehall. In our homes. We must teach our young men that masculinity is not about violence or hatred but about responsibility and integrity.

We must stop glorifying double lives. Stop praising liars. Stop pretending. Because every time we do, we destroy the future of this country.

And let us be clear: this is not about promoting homosexuality. This is about promoting honesty. Because without honesty, there can be no justice. And without justice, there can be no peace.

Jamaica, Music, and Morality

Brothers and sisters, let us begin with the foundation: Jamaican music. Dancehall, in particular, did not emerge from nowhere — it was born from the heartbeat of Jamaica's impoverished communities. It became the drumbeat of the ghetto, the megaphone of the voiceless, the raw and unfiltered diary of the people.

Dancehall gave the downtrodden a language when no one in high society wanted to hear their cries. It gave the youth in Trench Town, Waterhouse, and Spanish Town a way to shout their frustrations to the world. That is why dancehall carries so much weight—it is not polished, it is not censored, it is raw truth poured out in rhythm and rhyme.

However, this is where the problem arises. Along with that raw truth, dancehall also became a mirror reflecting our society's worst impulses. Hyper-masculinity became the norm: "badman" culture, where a man's worth was measured not by his integrity but by how many men he could intimidate, how many women he could bed, and how many enemies he could silence.

Songs didn't just talk about life; they helped shape it. They glorified violence, mocked weakness, and declared war on homosexuality. Lyrics that called for fire and gunshots against gay men echoed through every sound system. And what was the result?

Young people, barely teenagers, absorbed those words like scripture. They grew up believing that violence against gay men wasn't just acceptable—it was a moral duty. And because it was wrapped in rhythm, because it made the body move, it bypassed critical thought and sank straight into the heart.

But the biggest irony, family, is this: behind the public bravado, many of those same entertainers engaged in the very behaviors they condemned. The man shouting "fire bun" on stage was often the same man creeping into dark corners to live the life he pretended to despise. That double standard planted a dangerous seed: the normalization of hypocrisy.

Hypocrisy and Transformation

This is where Buju Banton becomes a symbol. Let me be clear: we are not here to attack the man personally. Instead, we use his journey to examine the contradictions in our culture.

In 1992, Buju released "Boom Bye Bye" — a track that became one of the harshest anti-gay anthems in dancehall history. His voice carried the rage and prejudice of an entire society. That song became both his burden and his crown.

Fast forward to after his imprisonment in the United States. When Buju returned, he no longer sang about killing gay men. Instead, he spoke of redemption, spirituality, and freedom. He urged people to rise above Babylon, to embrace love, to break free from chains.

And so we must ask: What happened? Did society change Buju, or did Buju change society? Or did prison force him into a deeper confrontation with truth?

What this shows us is that artists, like all people, often hide their true selves. They fear losing credibility, fear losing fans, fear losing the financial support that comes from fitting into a culture of "badness." But truth is like water—it will always seep through the cracks. Whether in sexuality, politics, or personal flaws, eventually, the mask slips.

Buju's transformation is not just about him. It is about how every Jamaican must confront the gap between the life they show in public and the truth they live in private.

Jamaican Society and the Closet

Now, let us widen the lens and talk about the society itself. Jamaica is infamous around the world for being one of the most homophobic nations. This is not new. It is rooted in a toxic mix of colonial laws handed down by Britain, the fire-and-brimstone preaching of churches, and a culture of exaggerated masculinity.

To be a "real man" in Jamaica was defined not by kindness or honesty, but by toughness, violence, and rejection of anything seen as "feminine." Men who didn't fit that mold were scorned, beaten, and sometimes killed.

But here is the paradox: while Jamaica loudly condemns homosexuality, gay culture has always been part of the fabric of the island. The hairstyles. The fashion. The dance moves. The entertainment industry itself is full of people who are gay, lesbian, or bisexual, yet many of them must live in hiding because of the stigma.

And here's the biggest irony: some of the very men who stood on stage shouting "fire bun battyman” were themselves secretly involved in same-sex relationships. The louder the condemnation, the darker the secret.

This hypocrisy corrodes society. It erodes trust. It makes the youth believe that all leaders, whether artists, preachers, or politicians, are liars. And once that belief sets in, it destroys the moral foundation of a nation. Because if the leaders are hypocrites, then why should the youth live in truth?

Lessons for the Youth

Now, I would like to speak directly to the young people listening. You are the future of this nation. And you must choose what kind of Jamaica you will inherit and shape.

Ask yourself: What kind of man or woman do you want to be? Do you want to be the type who condemns others while hiding your own secrets? Or do you want to stand in truth, no matter how uncomfortable it is?

Absolute freedom does not come from pretending. It does not come from performing a role for society. Absolute freedom comes from living authentically, from being honest with yourself first, and then with the world.

Our first national hero, Marcus Garvey, told us: "Emancipate yourselves from mental Slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds." Think about that. Mental Slavery is not just about chains on the hands. It is about chains on the mind. It is when society forces you to hate yourself while pretending to love righteousness. It is when you live a double life because you are afraid of judgment.

Young people, you have the power to break that cycle. You do not have to inherit the hypocrisy of the generations before you. You can create a Jamaica built not on lies, but on truth.

So here we are, family. Whether Buju Banton or any other public figure, the contradictions we see are not just about them; they are mirrors held up to Jamaican society. They force us to confront ourselves.

Jamaica must move beyond hypocrisy—whether in music, politics, or religion because hypocrisy is poison. It kills trust, it breeds corruption, and it robs the next generation of hope.

And so I leave you with this challenge: Stop glorifying lies. Stop condemning people while living double lives. The next generation deserves honesty, not hypocrisy.

Now that Buju Banton—once the symbol of condemnation—has been forced out of the closet of secrecy and contradiction, the question is no longer about him. The question is about us, the Jamaican people.

What will we choose? Truth or hypocrisy? Light or darkness? Authenticity or lies?

The next generation is watching. And the choice is ours.

Conclusion

So, as we reflect on Buju Banton — not just the man, but the symbol — we must ask ourselves: what do we truly want for Jamaica?

Do we want a society built on hypocrisy, where we chant one thing and live another? Or do we want a society built on truth, where people are free to be who they are without fear of lies or double standards?

The choice is ours. And the future depends on it.

Family, let us bury the hypocrisy. Let us raise the truth. And let us build a Jamaica where the next generation does not have to live in closets — whether political, religious, or personal.

Because only when we live in truth can Jamaica truly be free.

And so, family, let us speak plain: Jamaica has reached a crossroads. For too long, we have glorified lies and turned hypocrisy into a national sport. We cheer for men who sing violence while hiding their own truth. We exalt leaders who preach righteousness in public but wallow in corruption and secret deals in private.

But the next generation is watching. Our sons and daughters are sharper, more exposed, and more aware than we ever were. They are tired of double standards. They are tired of being told one thing while seeing the opposite played out in real life. They are tired of hearing "bun this, bun that," when the very same voices are lighting fires in the shadows.

Let us not fool ourselves—truth always finds its way to the surface. And whether you love him or hate him, Buju Banton has become the latest symbol of this painful reality. The same man who once gave the world "Boom Bye Bye" now stands as a mirror, forcing us to confront our own contradictions. For years, he stood as a soldier of condemnation. But now that the mask has slipped, the question is no longer about Buju alone—it is about us, the Jamaican people.

What do we stand for? Do we still wish to glorify lies? Do we still want to condemn others while living double lives? Or will we finally embrace honesty, even if it makes us uncomfortable?

Because here is the truth: hypocrisy kills nations. It breeds corruption. It nurtures violence. And it chains our children to a future of confusion and moral bankruptcy. If we want to build a stronger Jamaica, we must confront this disease.

So I leave you with this challenge: Stop glorifying lies. Stop condemning people while living double lives. The next generation deserves honesty, not hypocrisy.

And now that Buju Banton has come out of the closet for the world to see, the question is no longer about him. The question is about you.

What do you have to say?