Before the sun rises over London each August, a Grenadian masquerade tradition reasserts itself in the streets of Notting Hill — bodies slicked with motor oil, devil horns raised against the city sky. The Jab Jab parade, which opens Notting Hill Carnival, is not merely spectacle but an act of cultural memory: a practice carried across the Atlantic and kept alive through deliberate, repeated choice. In a city that was never its birthplace, the tradition endures because communities choose, year after year, to carry it forward.
Jab Jab parade: Grenadian tradition ignites Notting Hill Carnival
Hundreds move through dawn streets, oiled skin catching light, horns silhouetted against the sky.
So the Jab Jab parade happens at dawn—why that timing? Is there a reason it has to be early?
The dawn timing is part of the tradition itself, coming from Grenada. It marks a threshold moment—the official start of carnival. There's something about that early hour that sets it apart from everything else happening later in the day.
But the source doesn't actually explain the historical reason for the dawn timing. We know it happens then, but we don't know why it originated that way. That's worth noting.
And the motor oil—that seems like an unusual choice. What's the significance of covering yourself in oil?
It's a visual marker that's been part of the tradition for generations. It transforms how you look, how you move. It's part of the masquerade itself—the deliberate change in appearance.
Again, the source tells us people do it, but doesn't explain the historical or cultural reasoning behind why oil specifically became part of the practice. We're describing what happens, not necessarily understanding the why.
How many people actually participate in this?
Hundreds, according to the reporting. It's a significant gathering, though it's smaller and earlier than the main carnival events.
Right—"hundreds" is what we have. We don't have exact numbers, we don't know if that's growing or shrinking year to year, we don't know the age range or demographics of participants. The reporting gives us the scale but not the detail.
Is this tradition at risk? Are younger people keeping it going?
The participants who spoke to Al Jazeera emphasized how important it is to continue the tradition. There's clearly concern about preservation.
But the source doesn't actually tell us whether participation is declining, stable, or growing. We know people care about keeping it alive, but we don't have data on whether they're succeeding.
Il Polso
- Hundreds of participants coat themselves in motor oil and don devil horns in the pre-dawn darkness, transforming London streets into a Caribbean ceremonial space.
- The dawn timing sets the Jab Jab apart from the carnival's broader festivities, giving it a ceremonial gravity that risks being swallowed by the sheer scale of one of Europe's largest street festivals.
- Participants and community members are actively working to preserve the tradition's specific Grenadian identity rather than letting it dissolve into generic carnival culture.
- The parade continues to hold its form — oil, horns, and dawn — as inherited elements passed deliberately from one generation to the next within the diaspora.
Before the sun rises over London each August, a Grenadian masquerade tradition reasserts itself in the streets of Notting Hill — bodies slicked with motor oil, devil horns raised against the city sky. The Jab Jab parade, which opens Notting Hill Carnival, is not merely spectacle but an act of cultural memory: a practice carried across the Atlantic and kept alive through deliberate, repeated choice. In a city that was never its birthplace, the tradition endures because communities choose, year after year, to carry it forward.
Before dawn breaks over London, hundreds gather in the streets of Notting Hill — skin slicked with motor oil, devil horns fastened to their heads — for the Jab Jab parade, the opening ritual of Notting Hill Carnival. The tradition originates in Grenada and has made the journey across the Atlantic intact, taking root in the city's annual August celebration without losing its defining elements.
The motor oil and devil horns are not costume choices but inherited symbols central to the masquerade's identity. Together they transform participants into figures that are playful and deliberately unsettling — an inversion of the everyday that sits at the heart of Caribbean masquerade culture. The dawn timing adds its own ceremonial weight, separating the Jab Jab from the broader festivities that follow and marking it as a moment of transition: from night to day, from the ordinary to the festive.
For those who take part, the parade is a living connection to Grenadian heritage rather than a colorful spectacle. The tradition has survived decades and an ocean crossing, maintaining its form and purpose in a city that was never its birthplace. Within the vast scale of Notting Hill Carnival — one of Europe's largest street festivals — the Jab Jab occupies a distinct and older space, rooted in specific cultural practice rather than generic celebration.
What keeps it alive is choice: the repeated, deliberate decision by diaspora community members to coordinate, participate, and pass the tradition forward. In a place where Grenadian masquerade is not the default, that commitment is itself the act of preservation.
Before dawn breaks over London, hundreds of people gather in the streets around Notting Hill, their skin slicked with motor oil, devil horns fastened to their heads. They are there for the Jab Jab parade, the opening ritual of Notting Hill Carnival—a masquerade that has traveled from Grenada and taken root in the city's annual August celebration.
The Jab Jab parade marks the formal beginning of the carnival each year. Participants coat themselves in motor oil, a practice that gives the performance its distinctive visual signature and connects it directly to its Caribbean origins. The devil horns are not incidental costume pieces but central to the tradition's identity. Together, the oil and horns transform the participants into figures that are both playful and deliberately unsettling—a deliberate inversion of everyday appearance that sits at the heart of masquerade culture.
The parade itself happens at dawn, a timing that carries its own significance. The early hour sets the Jab Jab apart from the broader carnival festivities that follow, giving it a separate ceremonial weight. Hundreds move through the streets in this pre-dawn darkness, their oiled bodies catching whatever light exists, their horns silhouetted against the London sky. It is a moment of transition—from night to day, from the ordinary to the festive, from one year's carnival to the next.
For participants who spoke with Al Jazeera, the Jab Jab parade represents far more than a colorful spectacle. They described it as a living connection to Grenadian heritage, a practice that carries cultural meaning that extends beyond the carnival itself. The tradition has survived the journey across the Atlantic and the passage of decades, maintaining its form and its purpose in a city that is not its birthplace. That continuity matters to those who take part in it.
Notting Hill Carnival itself has become one of Europe's largest street festivals, drawing millions of visitors each August. Within that massive celebration, the Jab Jab parade occupies a particular space—it is older in spirit than much of what surrounds it, rooted in specific cultural practices rather than generic festivity. The motor oil, the devil horns, the dawn timing—these are not decorative choices but inherited elements that carry meaning from one generation to the next.
The question of how traditions survive and transform in diaspora communities is not abstract for the people who participate in the Jab Jab parade. They are actively choosing to continue a practice that requires effort, coordination, and commitment. They are also choosing to do so in a place where the tradition is not the default, where it must be deliberately maintained and passed forward. That choice, repeated year after year, is what keeps the Jab Jab alive in London.
Citazioni salienti
Participants emphasized the importance of continuing the Grenadian tradition— Participants who spoke with Al Jazeera