Cara’s Path to Finding Herself at Notting Hill Carnival - A Short Story
- Kanika Phillip
- 1 hour ago
- 6 min read
Author’s Note: My name is Kanika Phillip, and I am a big lover of music and carnival. Calypso and soca have always been genres that uplift me when I'm feeling low. This is a short story for anyone struggling to find their light again, particularly after grief — and how music and carnival can provide aid and comfort through those low moments. Carnival originates from our ancestors, yet we don’t always get the chance to truly honour them.
Since losing her Uncle Easton, Cara hadn't felt like herself — until she played mas again, dancing to groovy soca in the sun at Notting Hill Carnival.
Cara has always been someone who keeps to herself. You could call her a lone wolf by nature — she keeps her emotions close, but is the kind of person who is always there to lend a listening ear and a smile to those on their heaviest days.
Having first experienced depression at 15, Cara would wander into her dad's room and lie on his bed when he came home from work. She didn't say anything, but just having him there gave her the comfort she needed.
Years went on, and Cara was better, just a few low moods here and there. That was until she lost her Uncle Easton, and her emotions came crashing in. He was a true West Indian from the emerald island of Montserrat, a permanent presence in her life since childhood and the reason she fell in love with her West Indian roots: from cognac to calypso, dancing, dominoes, and persistent laughter. After his passing, the weight of everyday life became harder and more confusing. For a while, calypso — the genre he first introduced her to — made her sad. But playing mas at Notting Hill Carnival in 2025 was a turning point. The celebration helped her fall in love with calypso again, seeing the genre as a form of light, not sadness.
For those lucky enough to have met Uncle Easton, it was always a pleasure. A firm but kind man who was always laughing, always smiling. Cara once noticed an invitation to a christening on Uncle Easton's table. It was from a woman he had befriended at the local Irish pub. She asked him whose baby it was. Uncle Easton grinned and said, “Me nuh know, some pickney from a lady at the pub,” before they both burst out laughing. That pretty much sums up the person he was, always full of laughter and a story to tell.
It was Uncle Easton who first played calypso for Cara on his stereo. She remembers Byron Lee and the Dragonaires blasting through the speakers, the groovy soca remake of Tarrus Riley’s ‘So Royal’ filling the room with electrifying beats, riffs, and steel pan. From that moment, she was hooked.
Every week, she would sit with him and her Auntie Katie, listening to his stories — the same ones told again and again — but Cara never minded. She would smile and laugh as though she were hearing them for the first time, listening to her uncle reminisce about playing in a steel pan band in Montserrat and taking part in carnival parades. Together, Cara and her uncle would pore over old photos of beautiful women in elaborate costumes, dancing and smiling in the Montserrat carnival parade.
When the chance to play mas at Notting Hill Carnival came around again, Cara was hesitant, but her big brother Joe convinced her to take part. Together, they looked through Uncle Easton’s old carnival photos, laughing as they remembered how he would joke that he could chip from Little Bay all the way to Antigua.
Cara noticed a beautiful white costume her uncle once wore, covered in sparkling gems. While scrolling online, she came across a similar costume and instantly felt it was a sign to play mas again.
On costume collection day, holding the costume in her hands brought a huge smile to her face. But on carnival morning, as she carefully put it on, tears filled her eyes as it reminded her of her uncle and the joy carnival brought him.
On Carnival morning, Cara stood in front of the mirror admiring the beautiful white gems sparkling across her costume. The crown sat perfectly on her head, making her feel elegant and powerful all at once. The costume hugged her figure in a way that filled her with confidence, while her glittering shoes completed the look. As she finished her makeup, highlighting her eyes and glossing her lips, Cara finally smiled at her reflection, feeling beautiful and ready for the road ahead.
Taking one last look at herself before leaving, Cara grabbed her bag and headed out the door, the nervous excitement in her chest growing stronger with every step towards the road.
“Joe, take a picture of me; I feel so beautiful,” Cara joyfully expressed.
By 10:50 am, Cara and Joe were hurrying down Latimer Road, weaving through the crowds as they tried to catch their band before the 11 am set-off.
“Joe, you’re always running on West Indian timing — we’re going to miss the band!” Cara shouted.
Joe laughed and pointed ahead. “I think I see our band. See, Cara, they haven’t even left yet. I told you we were good.”
They made it with just enough time to grab some leftover breakfast from the food truck: Johnny cakes and saltfish. The smell instantly took Cara back to carnival mornings with her uncle, who would make the same breakfast for her before the road. It made her feel at ease and ready for the day ahead.
Joe points towards the sea of flags ahead. “Look, Cara, I spot Grenada, Curaçao, and Antigua. I recognise our beautiful sun on the flag anywhere, and the sun is actually shining too. Jheez, I can already sense good vibes."
“You’re right, Joe. And look, I see three big Anguilla flags too! I’d recognise our dolphin pendant any day. Anguilla stay representing — I have to take a picture and send it to Mumzy.” Cara replied.
Joe smiled as another flag caught both his and Cara’s eyes. They looked at each other and said in unison, “There’s Montserrat’s flag too.”
“And the costume looks identical to Uncle Easton’s back in the day,” Joe added.
For a moment, surrounded by music, laughter, and the colours of the Caribbean, Cara felt her uncle’s presence with her again.
The band starts taking off, and Joe and Cara began dancing, the sun shining on their skin as smiles from random strangers in the band appeared while they sang together.
The smell of Caribbean food drifted through the road as Cara and Joe passed stall after stall. Vendors sold steamed fish and callaloo while rum punch flowed into plastic cups. They spotted doubles, buss up shut and pilau from Trinidad, alongside ackee and saltfish, fried plantain and sweet festivals. Further along, Martinique and Guadeloupe stalls served fresh bokits stuffed with spicy fillings.
Everywhere they looked, people were smiling — spectators waving whistles, babies perched on their parents’ shoulders, elderly couples dancing slowly together, and young people jumping to the music. For a moment, the whole road felt like the Caribbean gathered in one place.
In the middle of the day, ‘Savannah Grass’ by Kes the Band starts playing. A beautiful song about the singer’s ancestors.
When Cara hears the song during carnival, she feels as though her ancestors are present with her in the moment — a sense of connection — like they are sharing the space with her. That moment gives Cara hope, a belief that wherever she is, her ancestors are with her, supporting and cheering her on.
Cara starts to get lost in the moment as the day goes on, dancing alongside Joe and strangers in the band.
“This takes me back, Cara, to younger days attending carnival with our family”, Joe said.
Cara smiled.
Full Blown’s “Good Spirits” starts playing, followed by Yung Bredda’s “The Greatest Bend Over”. Joe gives Cara a side-eye as she moves closer to a man in the band, ready to take a sweet wine.
“Face yuh front, Joe,” Cara smirked.
Joe bursts out laughing.
As the judging point approaches and they prepare to cross the stage, ’DNA’ by Mical Teja comes on. Joe and Cara wrap their arms around one another, embracing as the carnival begins to come to an end.
As Cara crossed the stage with her brother, she realised this day had been for Uncle Easton too. Every dance, every laugh, and every song along the road had become a way of honouring him and keeping his spirit close.
“I’m so glad we did this, Joe. Thanks for convincing me,” Cara smiled.
As the sky turned orange over Ladbroke Grove, the music still echoed through the streets long after the band had passed. Feathers brushed against strangers, whistles blew in the distance, and the scent of jerk smoke lingered in the evening air. Cara stood beside Joe, watching the final trucks roll by her, glitter catching the last of the sunlight. She thought about Uncle Easton — his laughter, his stories; the old carnival photos spread across the table.
For the first time since losing him, the memories no longer felt painful to hold onto. Cara smiled softly and looked at Joe. “I think Uncle would’ve loved seeing us out here today.”
This article has been sponsored by the Psychiatry Research Trust, who are dedicated to supporting young scientists in their groundbreaking research efforts within the field of mental health. If you wish to support their work, please consider donating.
