Jimmy Cliff, the Jamaican singer whose soulful anthems of hope and rebellion helped propel reggae from the island’s sun-baked streets to global stardom, has died at 81.
His wife, Latifa Chambers, announced the news on Instagram early today, saying he had suffered a seizure followed by pneumonia.
“It’s with profound sadness that I share that my husband, Jimmy Cliff, has crossed over,” she wrote, signed by their children Lilty and Aken.
“To all his fans around the world, please know that your support was his strength throughout his whole career. Jimmy, my darling, may you rest in peace. I will follow your wishes.”
Born James Chambers in 1944 in rural Somerton, Cliff was barely a teenager when he left home for Kingston, armed with little more than a raw falsetto and dreams of the big time.
By 1962, at 18, he had his first hit with “Hurricane Hattie”, a calypso lament for a storm-ravaged nation. But it was the 1960s crossover tracks that defined him: “Wonderful World, Beautiful People” (1969), with its buoyant plea for unity, and “You Can Get It If You Really Want” (1970), an infectious mantra of determination that soundtracked independence movements from Africa to the Caribbean.
Cliff’s true breakthrough came in 1972 with The Harder They Come, a gritty crime film in which he starred as Ivanhoe “Ivan” Martin, a would-be musician turned outlaw.
The soundtrack, blending reggae with raw social commentary, sold millions and introduced Bob Marley’s genre to American audiences, paving the way for the 1970s explosion. “Vietnam”, Cliff’s anti-war cry, hit the US top 20, while “Many Rivers to Cross” became a civil rights staple, covered by everyone from Joe Cocker to Cher.
A Grammy winner in 2010 for his ska-infused album Rebirth, Cliff never chased trends. He fused reggae with soul, rock and gospel, advocating for Pan-African unity and social justice.
In Kenya, where reggae pulses through Nairobi’s matatus and coastal festivals, his music has long been a bridge to Jamaica’s spirit of resistance.
Tributes poured in from across the diaspora. “A voice that healed nations,” posted Kenyan musician Wakadinali. Cliff leaves a legacy not just of hits, but of carrying the island’s rhythm to the world’s heart.
