The world's most influential ambassador for reggae music and the Rastafari movement, Robert Nesta Marley is today more alive than ever, and here in the capital city he grew up in he seems almost to have attained the status of a prophet, this 70th birthday concert a kind of grand ceremonial canonisation or coronation in absentia.
The carnival has changed. For my parents, it was a place where they could assert their duality - as Jamaicans living in England. For me and my sibling, it was an opportunity to wave a Jamaican flag alongside others, whilst pretending we were in the Caribbean. Now, the carnival feels like a great big raucous party.
Before Nelson Mandela had been laid to rest, talk, inevitably, turned to his legacy. How would he be remembered: a benign, saintly figure, or, an unswerving revolutionary? For some, there was no ambiguity: he was one, or the other. But, for others, it wasn't contradictory that he embodied both traits: saint and revolutionary.
One thing that intrigued me was that it seemed that 99% of all music videos submitted, seemed to come straight from Jamaica, such is the passion of Ugandans brought up on dancehall music. With full patois accents and dancehall dance moves, it was like judging a Caribbean set of acts, as opposed to African. It reminded me of the early UK urban music scene.
The first hour of this tediously self-infatuated documentary consists almost exclusively of American millionaires swaggering around Jamaica smoking an astonishing amount of weed and saying "yeah, mun" every five seconds with all the authenticity and respect for their surroundings of an obnoxious public schoolboy on his gap year.