Jahaji means shipmate. Under the system of Indian indenture, people carried across the oceans to the Caribbean formed jahaji bonds—relationships of kinship and mutual support among those making new lives and homes far from where their journeys began. The name connects us to that Indo-Caribbean history of journey, solidarity and belonging.
What began as a practical response to a crisis gradually revealed something more enduring.
The pandemic exposed how vulnerable people can become when households are expected to manage every difficulty alone. At the same time, our experience showed the strength of an intergenerational community: one person might have knowledge, another time, another practical skills, and another simply the ability to listen. Support did not move in only one direction. Everyone had something to contribute.
This led us to a larger question: what if that spirit of mutual support were not reserved for moments of crisis? What if it could be built into the places in which we live?
The idea of collective housing grew from that question. We do not imagine a community in which people surrender their privacy or independence. We imagine secure individual homes within a neighbourhood where residents know one another, share some spaces and resources, participate in decisions and take responsibility for the long-term wellbeing of the community.
The pandemic brought us together. Jahaji is our attempt to carry what we learned into something permanent: a community rooted in mutual care, shared responsibility and the possibility of building a different way of living.