The gully runs out of sight in both directions, a wide concrete trench strewn with debris—random bits of vegetation, discarded juice boxes, a tire, a rusting appliance— and coated with slime. It’s the one thing that connects the patchwork of overcrowded ghetto communities from Waterhouse to Grants Pen, Drews Land, Tivoli Gardens, and on down to the sea.
The only way to reach Cassava Piece is to walk across the gully on a bridge painted in Rasta colors. On the other side is a small beverage stand with a white refrigerator turned on its back. Locals call it “the fridge pon the bridge,” and it serves as a sort of waiting room for those desiring an audience with the Gully God.
Mavado’s name is the first thing you see, splashed in big letters on the white wall, alongside the word Cubans, which represents the set that controls this area, a hodgepodge of shanties and half-finished concrete structures mingled with the occasional banana tree.
Mavado roars up on a brand-new motorbike custom-painted with orange flames and a ghostly skull on the nose cone. Dressed in black Gucci sportswear from head to toe, he heads straight to his spot on the corner, holding court along with artists Flex, Einstein, and Foota Hype—the Alliance selector who grew up in Cassava Piece and first voiced Mavado on dubplate back in the ’90s when he was called Singing Blacks. Perched on the fridge are Mavado’s three sisters, Anika, Audrey, and Joey—a stunning, aspiring young reggae soul singer who is also developing Mavado’s Gully Side Wear clothing line. “I’m always in his shadow,” she says with a smile, adding that she’s not surprised by her brother’s success. “Our father was a singer, but he didn’t have the opportunity to fulfill his musical dream.” Mavado shared a close relationship with his dad, who was murdered under mysterious circumstances in Switzerland. “My brother just picked up where he left off,” says Joey. “It’s in the genes.”
Mavado’s father had a friend named Badda Flush, known for carrying a big boom box around Cassava Piece. “Him used to plug a mic inna it,” Mavado recalls, “and me used to sing out, right up the road here.” He graduated to singing on local sound systems like Super King, Star Blaze, and Foota Hype’s sound Twilight. Now Mavado is paying it forward, making plans to keep a weekly talent showcase right here in the gully. He’s also established a recording studio in Cassava Piece. “Whole heap ah talent in the gully,” he says as a herd of goats appear out of nowhere and begin devouring some nearby bags of garbage. “They just need exposure.” This gully has long been sacred ground in dancehall culture. Super Cat shot part of his “Ghetto Red Hot” video here. “Ninjaman used to deh here. Buju Banton too. Cutty Ranks, Burro Banton,” says Mavado. “Sanchez born right over deh so. A very powerful gully. We only come make it more powerful.”
Two days later, one of Mavado’s latest songs plays from his spanking-new Range Rover. “Money can’t buy life but / Money buy any other thing / Money give you a lot of fake friends but / Careful of them caw them will kill you fi you things.” Despite all the success he enjoyed in 2008, Mavado considers it the most challenging year of his life. “It get harder,” he says, “because you have more haters. More spies, more traitors. More instigators. More grudge.”
He recently recorded a song interpolating lyrics by 2Pac, an artist he describes as “an idol to me.” Given all that he’s achieved and all the people who depend on him, he’s painfully aware that everything can be taken away in an instant. “We try not to lose it,” he says. “Try not to leave that soon. Me can deh here for the next 20, 30 years. But I mean, you don’t know when. You don’t know the hour.”
“What don’t kill you make you stronger,” says Foota Hype, 27. “I’ve been put on a wanted list. I’ve been marked for death, me and Mavado. I’ve been to jail. Right now, we’re rolling through the street every day; there’s a million people who want us dead for nothing. But what we do? We live same way. ’Cause God controls our destiny.” He attributes his scrapes with the law to police\ corruption. “If we are not giving them no money,” he says, “then they gonna pressure us.” Looking up, he notices a police car parked across the gully, watching.
The selector insists that despite appearances to the contrary, the musical war is over. “And there was never ever a physical war, really. Ah no like Kartel can see the DJ and thump him in him face or touch the DJ. And if him do that him know it ah go lead to enormous amount of mayhem. Likewise we no choose fi touch Kartel physically. Caw you no wan’ touch somebody who is a Antichrist. So there is no purpose fi we have a physical or lyrical war. It nah benefit.”
Back on the corner, Mavado and his bredrens reason while the Gully God’s cell rings incessantly. Little girls in tidy school uniforms cross the bridge, returning home from their studies. A clean-cut teenager with freckles approaches Mavado, explaining that he was attacked by a mob while painting a mural of the singer. According to a radiojamaica.com report, four days after Sting a group of Kartel fans told the kid to stop painting and a fight broke out: “Other persons said to be supporters of the two entertainers as well as residents of the nearby community of Hungry Town converged on the scene and the melee started. They threw stones at each other and knives were drawn during which the man was stabbed.”
“Me never know you get stabbed,” Mavado says, looking into the youth’s eyes. “Which one ah them do you that?”
“Me no know, father,” he replies. “Nuff ah dem.” He lifts his shirt to show the bandaged wound across his abdomen. Mavado shakes his head while his crew chats quietly among themselves.
Later that day Mavado is reflective. “In life,” he says, “if you don’t know where you’re from, you don’t know where you’re going. I was born in the gully and that’s where we all lived— mother, father, bredda, sister, cousin—everybody. I didn’t choose to born there, I just born there. I never stray too far, and I never stay too far. We might have different place and different things, but at the end of the day it’s the gully side—I always belong there.”
Listen to Rob Kenner's "Boomshots" podcast for more on Mavado and this story.
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