Perfect for fans of The Black Kids, Songs of Irie is a sweeping coming-of-age novel from Asha Bromfield about a friendship struggling to survive amidst the Jamaican civil unrest of the 1970s.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Asha Ashanti Bromfield’s Songs of Irie, which is out October 10th.
It’s 1976 and Jamaica is on fire. The country is on the eve of important elections and the warring political parties have made the divisions between the poor and the wealthy even wider. And Irie and Jilly come from very different backgrounds: Irie is from the heart of Kingston, where fighting in the streets is common. Jilly is from the hills, where mansions nestled within lush gardens remain safe behind gates. But the two bond through a shared love of Reggae music, spending time together at Irie’s father’s record store, listening to so-called rebel music that opens Jilly’s mind to a sound and a way of thinking she’s never heard before.
As tensions build in the streets, so do tensions between the two girls. A budding romance between them complicates things further as the push and pull between their two lives becomes impossible to bear. For Irie, fighting—with her words and her voice—is her only option. Blood is shed on the streets in front of her every day. She has no choice. But Jilly can always choose to escape.
Can their bond survive this impossible divide?
Asha Bromfield has written a compelling, emotional and heart-rending story of a friendship during wartime and what it means to fight for your words, your life, and the love of your life.
EXCERPT
Reggae Jamz is the biggest dance hall in Kingston for undiscovered talent. Artists go their entire careers just hopeful to get onstage and perform in front of the island’s biggest reggae deejays, and that includes the iconic DJ SupaCat. He’s broken some of the island’s most major artists, and despite the political war going on in Jamaica, Reggae Jamz is one of the few dance halls that still happens every month uninterrupted.
It’s also the hardest to get into.
“A few of the promoters came by the shop again last week.”
I refer to my father’s record store. “They were passing out the Reggae Jamz flyers. I think it’s happening next Saturday.”
“Can you imagine if we could get you on that stage, Irie?” Jilly bursts at the mere idea. “SupaCat would sign yuh in a heartbeat. You’d be the youngest female artist in Jamaica with a record.”
My stomach knots.
“You’re sweet, Jilly.” I smile, brushing her off. “But you know how many artists would kill to get on that stage? I overheard at the shop that the wait list is longer than a year.”
“Please.” Jilly kisses her teeth. “I’m sure we could fi gure suh’um out.”
“It’s like a one-in-a-million chance, Jilly.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re a one-in-a-million talent.” Jilly does a twirl around me, and I giggle. “I believe in you, Irie. Yuh have what it takes.”
I blush.
“I appreciate you. Fa real.” I smile. “But even if I wanted to, Reggae Jamz is twenty-one and over. There’s no way I could get in, much less onstage.”
Jilly sulks.
“Well, one day soon, then.” Her tone is still hopeful. “People need to hear your voice, Irie. Yuh have too much talent to waste.”
I bite down, knowing full well she’s right.
“I still don’t undastand why yuh nuh just apply at Jamaica School of Music?” Jilly continues. “If you started in the fall, you could gain some real connections.”
I freeze, unsure of how to respond.
I could never afford it.
“Don’t worry about me.” I try to brush it off. “I’m going to take the year off to relax. Figure everything out.”
Jilly nods as if she understands.
She never could.
“Well, take all the time you need.” She reaches for my hand as the sun grazes her rose- colored cheeks. “’Cause we neva haffi set foot inna dis yah place again.”
I muster up a smile, trying to remind myself of my responsibilities at the shop.
Trying hard not to compare my life to hers.
“I want you to know . . . I’m going to miss you so much, Irie.”
Jilly’s tone becomes sullen as she gazes into my eyes. “It’s going to be tough going from seeing you every day to hardly at all. I’m sad we only started gettin’ close the past two years, but our friendship is really special to me. I’m going to miss you. A lot.”
I feel a flutter in my chest.
The noise around us fades as the schoolyard empties out.
“Me too,” I whisper nervously.
I have to tell her how I feel.
“I want yuh to know . . .” I search myself for the words. “I’m really grateful for you, Jilly. I’m grateful for everything we shared together. Here at Arthen . . .”
Jilly’s eyes go sad as she listens intensely.
“All of the memories we created at this school . . . skipping classes . . . trading vinyls in the bathroom . . .” I can’t help but smile at the memories. “I’ve never had a friend like you before. Someone who believes in me so much.”
I pause as the truth leaves me.
“You’re my best friend, Jilly.”
“Oh, Irie—” She beams, batting her long eyelashes. “You’re mine.”
Butterflies dance in my tummy as she pulls me in for a hug.
“Which actually reminds me,” she says as she pulls away. “I almost forgot that I got you suh’um.” She’s sly as she reaches into her book bag and pulls out a ribbon- wrapped box.
I’m confused when she hands it to me.
“Wait,” I make a face. “You got me suh’um?”
“Of course, bighead,” she teases. “It’s our last day. Yuh know I had to commemorate it.”
“Jillian . . .” I’m shocked as I stare down at the box. Humbled, I pull on the ribbon.
“You really didn’t have to get me anyth—”
My heart drops.
As I pull off the top, staring back at me are two sparkly pinkish red bracelets that glitter like diamonds in the midday sun. My mouth falls open.
“Jilly—”
“They’re rubies.” She beams. “Pretty, nuh true?”
“I . . . How did you—”
“Daddy gave me money for a graduation gift,” she boasts. “So I got two.”
“Jilly.” Tears instantly well in my eyes as I try to comprehend what I’m holding. I’ve never held anything so expensive in my life, and I’m so stunned I almost drop the box. “Jilly, there’s no way I could ever accept this.”
“Don’t be foolish, Irie.” She rolls her eyes as if bored of me playing coy. “Of course you can. It’s a small token of my appreciation.”
She takes the box from my hand and pulls out the bracelets.
I’m still in awe as she takes my wrist.
“Besides, they’re best- friend bracelets. A matching set. So, if you don’t wear yours, there’s no point in me havin’ mine.” She winks before clasping the bracelet around my wrist. “See? Look how good it looks with your complexion.”
I stare at my wrist, speechless.
“Yuh nah go say nuttin’?” she asks.
“I . . . Thank you.” I blink back the tears. “I’ve never owned anything so nice in my entire life. I can’t imagine what this must have cost you—”
“Nuh badda concern yourself wit’ the price, Irie.” She fans me off. “You can’t put a price on friendship. And anyways, Mummy and Daddy owed me something nice, with all the work I put in this year. What they really should have done is bought me a car.”
I smile, unsure if she’s joking as she clips hers around her wrist.
She holds her hand up to the sun, admiring the rubies as they glisten.
“Thank you, Jilly.” I hold my warm brown hand up beside hers. Next to her pale skin, our complexions juxtapose each other as the matching ruby bracelets glitter in the sun.
“You’re so welcome.” Jilly smiles softly before looking over at me. We turn to each other as she takes my hand in hers. “I really meant what I said, Irie. Spending time with you every day . . . it’s been so special. And it’s changed me in a lot of ways.” Her eyes dance as they search mine. “I really love you, Irie.”
I feel time stop as the words leave her lips.
I’ve never had a friend tell me that before.
“Jilly, I . . .” I squirm. “I really love you too. A lot.”
I grow hot as I bite down, nervous she might receive it weirdly— but she doesn’t.
Instead, she pulls me into the sweetest embrace.
I melt into her arms.
