RIP Jimmy Cliff, My Childhood Memory, and What’s Missing in the Headline

Really sad news of Jimmy Cliff’s passing. His music travelled beyond borders and diaspora lines, carrying stories of survival, dignity, and hope. For me, his death brings back a very specific childhood memory:


Jimmy Cliff once walked into #Harlesden Library in #Brent. It was 1986, and An-Nisa Society had organised an exhibition called “From Africa to the Caribbean”, celebrating Muslim Black histories.

Back then, I didn’t understand the scale of the legacy that had just walked through the library doors. But I felt its presence. What I also didn’t understand then — but know clearly now — is that Jimmy Cliff was, at that time, in the middle of a deeply spiritual chapter of his life. He had converted to Islam, taken the name El Hadj Naïm Bachir, and completed Hajj. That journey shaped him profoundly.

And yet, reading many of today’s tributes, that part of his life is missing. This is a pattern I’ve often noticed with the mainstream media. A big part of our lives as people of faith is excluded as it’s not important enough to deserve a mention. Especially if you are Muslim but don’t fit the typical perception of a Muslim such as beard or hijab. Omitting that is more than a factual oversight: it is part of a wider pattern in which Muslim identity, especially Caribbean Black Muslim identity, is seen as not fitting the script — something to smooth out of the historical record.

But today, I want to honour the legend.

A man whose path once ran through Islam — openly, sincerely, and influentially — and whose presence reached a Brent library where a young me watched greatness up close.

May Jimmy Cliff’s journey onward be gentle.
May we remember him in all his fullness, not just the parts that fit neatly into familiar narratives.


May he RIP

Inallillahi wa inallillahi rajioon