Men’s health in dancehall and entertainment is a mark. A scar we don’t like to look at.

We celebrate the greatness, but we don’t talk about what it cost. Because a lot of our most successful kings didn’t live to see all of their success. The road took their health, their family life, and eventually, their lives.

Think about “Bob Marley”  the man who sang “Redemption Son” and told us to “emancipate ourselves from mental slavery.” The biggest brand in Reggae and one of the most visible brand ambassador for Jamaica. Doctors and even Chris Blackwell begged him to get surgery for cancer. He said no. The tour came first. He died at 36, with music still in him.

Think about “Phantom Mojah” the voice behind “Hail The King” who sang about righteousness and purpose. He was told to come off the road, to calm down, to rest. Instead he played Best of the Best. He never fully recovered.

Think about “John Holt”  who gave us  tracks like “Police in Helicopter” and “The Tide Is High” songs about love and struggle. He collapsed and died on stage in London.

Think about “Gregory Isaacs”  Mr Cool Ruler himself who sang “Night Nurse” and “Love Is Overdue”. He collapsed on tour more than once, pushing through pain for the fans.

Think about “Bunny Wailer”a Wailer who carried “Blackheart Man” and songs of spirituality and African pride. He suffered a stroke after years of grind.

Then there’s Lieutenant Stitchie, a former school teacher who became a household name. Hits like  “Natty Dread Taking Over”, forced to go on GoFundMe for medical help. And “Tiger” who once sold out Japan, wheelies on his bike down Hope Rd Kgn, who ended his days sick with no support.

The pattern is clear. Six nights a week. Airport to stage to hotel. No sleep. Road food. Alcohol. Stress. And the pressure to always be “strong.”

“The common rationale is your health,” but we keep “putting the industry first. By putting the industry first, you have neglected your health.” We made “the show must go on” a death sentence.

But a crown is heavy. And you can’t wear it from a hospital bed.

The music needs elders, not martyrs. That’s why mentors like Mikey Bennett, Push A Yute, Vivian Thomas, and Claude Mills are now teaching wellness with songwriting. Encouraging check ups and assisting in programs pertaining to men’s Mental and physical health. We have seen the Ministry Of Entertainment implement an insurance program. Because artist development must include the man.

Real strength isn’t dying on stage. Real strength is the checkup. Real strength is rest. 
Real strength is choosing yourself.

To every king in reggae and dancehall: Greatness means nothing if you’re not here to live it. Go get checked. The music needs you alive. More so your family and friends would love to celebrate a life with you and not without you.