The Art of Storytelling: Meet the Griots Preserving BVI’s Oral History

Mia Lennard, a filmmaker and photographer from the British Virgin Islands, describes her work as a way of saying “This mattered.”

The British Virgin Islands do not have griots in the formal West African sense — the hereditary historians, praise-singers, and musicians who have preserved genealogies and epic narratives for centuries across Mali, Senegal, Guinea, Gambia, Burkina Faso, and Ivory Coast. But the question the term raises — who keeps a community’s memory alive, and how — is urgent on these islands. Enslaved Africans brought oral traditions to the Caribbean, and those practices have evolved into distinctly BVI forms of storytelling. This article traces the griot tradition at its source, follows its diaspora journey, and introduces the people in the BVI today who are doing the quiet, essential work of preserving local history before it disappears.

Each tradition answers the same need — preserving what matters — through different tools and contexts. The table above maps the key distinctions.

The Griot Tradition in West Africa: A Living Archive

A griot is a custodian of oral tradition responsible for preserving and communicating community stories, including family genealogies, epic feats, founding myths, battles, marriages, births, and key collective life episodes. The term itself may derive from the French adaptation of the Portuguese criado (servant or attendant), which became guiriot and then griot. In Mande languages, the profession is called jeliya, linked to a root meaning “blood” — a clue to its hereditary nature.

Griots historically form an endogamous professional caste, with craft passed from generation to generation. Griot families were stably associated with royal families, serving as advisors, chroniclers, and guardians of dynastic memory, despite occupying a lower social status in some hierarchies. Village-based “people’s griots” told stories of everyday life, local conflicts, and rites of passage including births, deaths, weddings, and adventures. Female griots exist with outstanding storytelling and musical abilities, recognized in ceremonies, praise songs, and narratives highlighting female experience. Virtually every important king had a personal griot; many towns had griots preserving local memory and mediating conflicts.

Griots memorize vast amounts of stories, epic poems, proverbs, and traditional songs without serious errors. They combine this memory mastery with improvisation, adapting stories to present situations, commenting on recent events, and introducing improvised anecdotes. They function as chroniclers of the present, discussing current events, gossip, political issues, and social conflicts, often with humor or satire. The verbal wit carries special authority — a griot’s scathing remarks or satirical songs can influence local public opinion. Leaders seek griots as symbolic allies due to this mixture of respect and fear.

What remains debated among scholars is the precise historical origin of the griot institution. Some trace West African plucked lutes — the konting, khalam, and nkoni — to possible connections with Ancient Egypt. The khalam was mentioned by Ibn Battuta in 1353, and some researchers suggest it as a direct antecedent of the banjo. These origins are still contested, and no single narrative has gained universal acceptance.

From West Africa to the Caribbean: The Diaspora of Oral Tradition

Enslaved Africans brought their oral traditions across the Atlantic, but the institution of the griot as a formal caste did not survive the Middle Passage intact. What did transfer was the deeper practice of preserving history through spoken word, song, and communal memory. In the Caribbean, this evolved into distinct forms: the calypso tradition of news-bearing satire, the storytelling circles of plantation workers, and the dialect-rich narratives passed down in family settings.

The griot figure has been reinterpreted in poetry and spoken word festivals, museums, and historical memory projects worldwide. American poet Amiri Baraka and Congolese filmmaker Balufu Bakupa-Kanyinda have advocated for using the spelling jali to emphasize the Mandé tradition over the French colonial adaptation. In the United States, events like the Meeting of the Griots — hosted by Progress Trust Inc. at Sullivan Progress Plaza in Philadelphia — honor the tradition by gathering community leaders, cultural practitioners, and subject-matter experts to share reflections on health, education, film, music, arts, Black business, and community outreach. The event, held for the 100th anniversary of Black History Month in 2026, explicitly frames these modern storytellers as heirs to the griot legacy.

In the Caribbean, the connection is more indirect but no less real. The BVI’s own tradition of oral history has been carried by elders, festival participants, and community members who pass down stories of hurricanes, boat-building, fishing life, and island families. These narratives have not always been written down — which is exactly what makes the work of contemporary documentarians so critical.

BVI’s Storytellers Today: Mia Lennard and the People of Virgin Gorda

Mia Lennard grew up on Tortola before moving to Virgin Gorda around Grade 2 or 3. Her family ran The Wine Cellar, Bakery & Deli, the first bakery on Virgin Gorda; her grandfather from France was the first pastry chef at Rosewood Little Dix Bay. She trained in culinary arts at the resort and created a tamarind ice pop that became a guest favorite. But her path shifted toward visual storytelling.

Lennard is a filmmaker and photographer dedicated to documenting local life, culture, and Caribbean narratives. Her short film From Nevis, With Love is a visual love letter to Nevis, where her father and paternal family are from. She hopes to turn it into a series exploring paternal roots and Nevis culture. Her documentary series People of Virgin Gorda currently has two episodes available on YouTube. She served as the official photographer for CARIFESTA XV in Barbados, representing the British Virgin Islands, where she was surrounded by photographers, musicians, potters, poets, fashion designers, and storytellers from across the Caribbean.

Lennard’s motivation came partly from loss. Losing her grandparents changed her perspective: she wishes she had videos of them simply talking, telling their childhoods, the lives they lived. That void now drives her work — creating visually beautiful documentation that preserves voices and memories for generations. She is passionate about documenting Virgin Gorda beyond postcards: “people live here, families grow here, traditions continue here.”

Lennard received a Rising Star Award at her first exhibition around age eighteen or nineteen. She chose Visual Arts over Science for her senior years despite good grades in Science. Her mentor Mr. Sylvester Smith, a guidance counsellor at Bregado Flax Educational Centre, made the school’s photography club possible — a program that photographed ceremonies, school events, and community activities, and had a lasting impact on her path.

Her philosophy is grounded in the belief that reputation matters in the Caribbean, where “someone always knows someone who knows you.” Her step-grandfather advised her: if unsure about life’s path, learn a trade and stick with it until discovering your true calling. She now sees her work as creating something that will outlive her — preserving today’s ordinary moments as tomorrow’s history.

Context and Comparison: Three Models of Oral History

The griot tradition, the Caribbean oral historian, and the modern documentarian serve overlapping but distinct functions. Comparing them reveals both continuity and change.

The key difference is medium and training. But the deeper similarity is purpose: all three models are responses to the threat of loss. Whether through a kora song in a Malian village or a documentary episode about Virgin Gorda, the goal is the same — making sure the story does not die with the teller.

Questions Readers Ask

Are there actual griots in the British Virgin Islands today?

No, not in the formal West African sense. The BVI does not have a hereditary griot caste. But individuals like Mia Lennard and community elders who pass down family histories serve a comparable function — preserving collective memory through narrative and documentation.

What happened to the griot tradition during slavery in the Caribbean?

The formal institution did not survive the Middle Passage. Enslaved Africans maintained oral storytelling practices, but the caste-based role of the griot could not be reconstituted under plantation conditions. Instead, those practices evolved into calypso, folk tales, and community-based oral history.

How can I experience BVI oral history as a visitor?

Attend the BVI Emancipation Festival (July–August) for storytelling and music. Visit local cultural exhibitions and look for documentary screenings. The Viator Cultural Tours of the British Virgin Islands offer curated introductions to local traditions and heritage sites.

Is the word “griot” considered offensive or appropriative outside West Africa?

Some scholars and artists, including Amiri Baraka and Balufu Bakupa-Kanyinda, prefer the term jali to emphasize Mandé tradition over the French colonial adaptation. Context matters — using “griot” as a respectful analogy for non-West African storytellers is common but should not erase the specificity of the original tradition.

What is the biggest threat to BVI’s oral history today?

The aging of community elders who carry unwritten stories, combined with the rapid pace of development and tourism. Digital documentation projects like Lennard’s are racing to capture these narratives before they are lost. The challenge is funding and infrastructure to sustain these efforts long-term.

Why Memory Matters: What the Griot Tradition Reveals About BVI

The griot tradition, at its core, answers a question every community faces: who gets to tell the story, and how is it preserved? In the British Virgin Islands, the answer is distributed across elders, festival participants, and a new generation of documentarians using cameras and microphones instead of koras and ngonis. The tools have changed, but the impulse — to say “this mattered” — remains constant. The BVI’s stories are still being told, but they depend on people willing to listen, record, and pass them on. For a deeper dive into how the islands’ unique dialect carries its own history, read BVI’s Unique Dialect: Decoding the Language of the Islands.

Sources and further reading

Cultura10. “Griots: Guardians of the Word, Music and Memory.” 🔗

Mia Lennard. “This Mattered: Preserving the Quiet.” Growing Up in the Caribbean. 🔗

Progress Trust Inc. “Meeting of the Griots for the 100th Anniversary of Black History Month.” Eventbrite. 🔗

Related reading on IslandHopperGuides

The Art of Storytelling: Keeping BVI’s History Alive Through Oral Traditions — A companion guide to the oral traditions still practiced across the islands.

Folklore and Fables: Unearthing the Mythical Side of Virgin Islands Culture — Explores the legends and stories that shape BVI identity.

Anegada’s Coral Kingdoms: Conservation, Culture, and the Spirit of Resilience — How storytelling and conservation intersect on BVI’s outer islands.