Traditional ganja farmers say big money, not growers, reaps Jamaica cannabis boom

Jamaica’s cannabis sector is often cast as a multi-billion-dollar growth story, yet many traditional growers say the returns still bypass the communities that kept the crop alive. In the first instalment of a TVJ special reported by Yanique Williams, farmers and advocates describe that gap between cultural roots and commercial power.

Small producers across rural Jamaica — from the hills of St. Ann to the fields of Westmoreland — cultivated ganja for generations before decriminalisation changed the national debate. One grower said he has raised cannabis for more than fifty years, starting in high school and leaving school in 1967. Another, active for thirty-four years, said the plant has defined his entire working life and paid for his children’s education.

Historians date the herb’s arrival to the late 1800s, when Indian indentured labourers brought it to the island. It later became central to Jamaican life, especially among Rastafari, who use it in spiritual practice, meditation and folk remedies. Despite that imprint, the state later outlawed it, and it stayed illegal for decades. Today the industry is described as worth billions, but many heritage farmers say they remain locked out of legal profit.

Advocate Ras I V said people who smoke, juice or brew the plant as tea receive something they do not get elsewhere. From a working-class youth background, he said he first encountered it around age seven and found calm and confidence in the experience. Cannabis advocate Dr Neil argued that Rastafari and broader liberties made ganja a normal part of Jamaican consumption, not an ordinary commodity — and that building a commercial model that respects that culture while entering regulated trade is difficult work that also requires mapping how the industry should function.

Since 2015, when Jamaica decriminalised possession of small amounts and opened a licensed medical cannabis regime, permits have become essential to lawful earning. Some farmers still report pressure: travelling with more than a limited quantity can lead to trouble, they said, so growers must stay carefully within the rules.

Dr Neil called ganja a cultural commodity woven into Jamaican and Caribbean identity, arguing that custom itself has long set how Jamaicans regulate use, beyond parliamentary statute alone. One farmer put the economic grievance starkly: growers take only a fraction of the pie while those with capital take the larger share — a pattern, he said, that should not stand. As Jamaica’s cannabis reputation rises abroad, the core dispute remains whether the people who built the informal trade will share in the legal boom.