Reggae is a very positive genre, it is surrounded by positive

Hear the words of Koffee, daughter of Jamaica, who declared with conviction: “Reggae is a very positive genre, it is surrounded by positive words, lyrics, people and it is known for that.” In this statement lies not only a description of music, but a testimony to the spirit of a people and the rhythm of a movement. For reggae is more than sound—it is heartbeat, prayer, and prophecy. It is born of struggle, yet it sings of positivity; it rises from oppression, yet it proclaims freedom and hope.

The origin of reggae is the soil of Jamaica in the 1960s, when the cries of the poor and the oppressed needed a voice. That voice was carried in drums and basslines, in guitars that echoed like thunder, and in lyrics that spoke of justice, peace, and divine strength. The singers were not merely entertainers—they were prophets, teachers, healers. They sang against tyranny, against poverty, against despair, and yet their message was always rooted in positive words: unity, love, resilience. Reggae, as Koffee reminds us, became known not for destruction, but for building up the human spirit.

Consider the story of Bob Marley, the herald of reggae to the world. In a time when political violence tore Jamaica apart, Marley stood on stage and called for peace. At the famous One Love concert in 1978, he united rival political leaders by drawing them together onstage to clasp hands before the people. His music—filled with positive lyrics like “One Love” and “Redemption Song”—was not mere melody; it was a force that calmed storms and opened hearts. His legacy proves Koffee’s words: reggae has been known for the positivity it breathes into the world.

Yet reggae is not only about peace—it is about people, communities bound together by rhythm and message. Its gatherings are circles of energy where the young and the old, the rich and the poor, share in the same pulse. The genre has always carried within it an invitation: to see each other as brothers and sisters, to rise above divisions, and to remember that joy is a weapon against despair. It is this community of positive people that has allowed reggae to endure, to spread, and to become a global anthem of resilience.

The meaning of Koffee’s words is thus: reggae is not only sound but spirit. It is known for lifting rather than crushing, for healing rather than wounding, for uniting rather than dividing. In a world often poisoned by negative voices, reggae is the medicine of joy and resistance. It teaches us that music, when rooted in truth and positivity, can transform not just moments, but entire generations.

The lesson for us is clear: we too must choose the songs we carry in our hearts. Just as reggae musicians fill the air with positive lyrics, so must we fill our lives with positive words—words that heal instead of harm, words that build instead of break. The rhythm of our lives can be an anthem of hope to those around us if we live with intention, kindness, and courage.

Practical wisdom calls us to action. Seek out voices that uplift rather than drag down. Sing songs of encouragement to yourself when days are heavy. Surround yourself with communities, like reggae gatherings, where the energy is life-giving, not draining. And in your own speech, choose words of compassion and strength, for these are the lyrics that will echo in the lives of others.

So let it be remembered: reggae is proof that art can be both weapon and balm, a sound of resistance that is also a song of peace. Koffee’s words remind us that positivity is not weakness—it is power. And when a people, a culture, or a soul surrounds itself with positive words, lyrics, and people, the world becomes not only brighter, but freer.