On Thursday, August 28, 2025, the Caribbean Music Awards ceremony took place in Brooklyn at the legendary Kings Theatre. The event promised a night of cultural pride and musical celebration, bringing together artists from across the Caribbean diaspora. Fans expected a true showcase of the region’s diversity, from reggae and soca to zouk, calypso, and Konpa.
The Caribbean Music Awards, in just a few short years, has positioned itself as one of the premier celebrations of Caribbean artistry. With red carpets, star-studded performances, and recognition of icons from dancehall to soca, the event has become a spectacle watched by audiences worldwide. But beneath the glittering surface lies a troubling truth: despite being branded as a celebration of Caribbean music, the awards often feel like they are dedicated to reggae and soca, leaving Haitian music, one of the region’s richest and most influential genres, on the margins.
Haitian artists are too often treated as tokens in the event, mentioned but never meaningfully celebrated. Take this year’s ceremony: while nominees from reggae and soca were prominently promoted and supported, Haitian nominees were left to fend for themselves. Many were informed of their nominations only to be told they had to arrange and finance their own way to the event. Compare that to how reggae and soca artists are managed and accommodated with coordinated promotion, highlighted performances, and visible presence on the main stage, and the disparity is hard to ignore.
For a ceremony that proudly carries the name “Caribbean Music Awards,” the failure to properly represent and support Haitian musicians is not just an oversight. It is a dismissal of a cultural powerhouse. Haiti is not the smallest island in the region, nor is it lacking in artistic contributions. From the global reach of Konpa and Rara to the diaspora’s influence on contemporary Caribbean sounds, Haitian music deserves more than a passing mention.
Perhaps the most telling moment of the night was the use of Kassav’s legendary “Zouk la sé sèl médikaman nou ni,” which was incorrectly referred to as a Haitian song during the broadcast. To confuse Zouk, a genre born in Guadeloupe and Martinique, with Haitian Konpa reveals a lack of cultural literacy that should not exist in an event of this magnitude. It begs the question: how much effort is the organizing committee putting into truly understanding the diverse musical traditions of the Caribbean?
What makes this mistake more frustrating is that it happened despite the fact that Haitian professionals are part of the event’s inner workings. With Haitian representation behind the scenes, how was such a basic error allowed to happen? Was it carelessness, or was it another example of Haitian music being undervalued and overlooked?
The Caribbean Music Awards claim to be a platform for all Caribbean islands, yet its structure and programming tell another story. By centering reggae and soca while sidelining Haitian music, the awards perpetuate a narrative that the Caribbean is culturally monolithic. This narrative not only diminishes Haiti’s place in Caribbean history but also undermines the very diversity the awards should be celebrating.
Haiti’s music industry has long been underappreciated on the international stage despite its undeniable contributions. To continue ignoring it at a Caribbean-wide event is a missed opportunity for the organizers and a disservice to the audience. Recognition cannot just be in name. It must be in action, in fair representation, and in equal respect.
If the Caribbean Music Awards truly want to live up to their name, they must commit to inclusivity across all Caribbean genres. Haitian artists deserve the same logistical and promotional support as their peers in reggae and soca. They deserve to have their music accurately represented and their culture celebrated, not mischaracterized.
Until then, many will continue to see the awards not as a Caribbean-wide celebration but as a reggae and soca showcase masquerading under a broader banner. And in that framing, Haitian music, and by extension Haitian culture, remains underrepresented, misunderstood, and undervalued.
