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Time Justin’s jhaytea: From Flowers Bay to Brooklyn and Back By Jeff stratton
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haytea is starving. As he forages through my funky fridge, his tongue clucks disapprovingly. He doesn’t want a hunk of Honduran cheese or a nuked hot dog. He wants to fry up some fish. Soon, someone from his entourage is dispatched to West End to fetch him lunch. Jhaytea always has a few acolytes traveling with him when he’s on the island. See, among local hip-hoppers The Flowers Bay Crew and King Squad members, Jhaytea (born Justin T. Brooks on 10 April 1982) represents the closest they have seen to a local superstar. From the humblest of roots, he grew up in Flowers Bay but spends most of his time in Brooklyn, where a life and a wife and a recording career await. Videos he’s recorded right here on the island are blowing up on YouTube. Not only that, but Jhaytea is using his Stateside success as a platform to spout his unique blend of Roatan rhetoric. On the dirty streets of Brooklyn, Jhaytea is a known commodity. He’s even plastered ROATAN new TIMES.com
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poles with his Roatan Island Flag. Against the shrill chirps of the ching-chings in the trees, he beams with pride. Dressed in a collared shirt, neatly-pressed shorts, new hitops and an always-present pair of sunglasses, he opens up a Styrofoam
She employed unique methods to stop him from running around unsupervised. “She would do laundry for all the kids, and she’d tie me to table leg with a belt. I used to be crying all day, but she’d pay me no mind. I’d
“I said to myself, I would like to be like Lucky Dube one day.” ______________________________ box with his fried-fish lunch inside. “All over New York, they know that flag,” he says. Jhaytea’s been part of the NYC reggae/hip-hop scene since 2003, when, while working on a cruise ship, he got his big break. But it took years to get there. He lost his mom a few years ago to diabetes. When Jhaytea was only four, his father was lost at sea. As the youngest, his mom was often to busy to spend much time with him.
rainY Season 2011
be, ‘wah wah wah wah.’” As his homeboy Clint rolls with laughter, he remembers how that became Jhaytea’s first song. “Then,” chuckles Clint, “he started like, “oy ya yoy ya yoyo y yay yo yay yoy OH-YAY-YOY-YAYYOY…” We all fall out. That began this kid’s career? It’s a funny thought. The ching-chings caw. Jhaytea chews his lunch in silence. “When I was 11, 12, 13, my
bredren used to work on cruise ships, and they’d bring music back, an’ they would jam music on the porch all night and cook up macoy. “Then I sang in the church choir and local talent shows,” he continues. He’d perform at Juan Brooks school in Coxen Hole, though curiously he pronounces the first name as John (more on that later). He’d rock the mic up and down the island, playing on the beach in Oak Ridge. At the same time, he found himself exposed to music from all over. Bartending at the Inn of Last Resort allowed him to meet tons of tourists and he heard what they were into. “The first music I heard that I really liked was Lucky Dube,” he says, a common Flowers Bay refrain. “I said to myself, I would like to be that one day.” Bob Marley, Capleton, Tupac and R. Kelley all became important touchstones. With typical bravado he dismisses oldtimers like Yellowman: “They can’t teach me nothing,” he laughs. By the late 1990s, Jhaytea started 21