Sha-Jay Williams
YAJAHS - The Value I Never Knew Lived in My Hands
Beaded Expressions of Love
I grew up in Southeast Kingston. Rockfort, Mountain View, Norman Gardens and Windward Road. These areas raised me, and it raised me loud and full of life.
From as early as I can remember, I was always creating. At Norman Gardens Primary, while other kids were doing what kids do, I was sitting somewhere quietly creating beaded rings and neckpieces and handpieces. It wasn’t unusual for students to create these kinds of things, but for me it was different. It never felt like passing time. It felt like something I was supposed to be doing.
My grandmother used to care for an elderly woman I called my great-grandmother. She knew I loved to create, so whenever I visited, she made sure my grandmother had picked up crafty supplies for me, beads especially. I would spend the days at her house just making pieces, one after another, completely absorbed. I gave them away as gifts mostly: birthdays, Christmas, gatherings and special occasions. That was how I showed love back then. I made something with my hands and I gave it to you, and that meant I cared.
Then one day, a woman from my church asked to buy from me. She asked the price, and I froze for a while because I had never thought about that before. I had never considered that what I made had a number attached to it. I eventually told her something, made the pieces, handed them over, and she paid me. I still remember the feeling. It wasn’t just about the money. It was the moment I understood that what lived in my hands produced value I had never given it credit for.
Turning Passion Into Purpose
I was raised in church, shaped by strong Christian values. People knew me as the good girl, polite and obedient, and that upbringing built the foundation of who I am. But life has lessons, and as I got older and moved through different experiences, I began to understand the world more fully, including how hard it could be. Through all of it, creating remained the one place I always came back to. My safe space.
After that church sister bought from me, something shifted. I started posting my pieces on my personal Facebook page, just sharing what I was making whenever the mood moved me. A high school acquaintance with his own business encouraged me to create a separate page. I did, and eventually moved from Facebook to Instagram, where things actually began to grow. I was inconsistent at first. I was mostly having fun, creating and sharing without a real plan, because I hadn’t yet understood that what I was doing could become something.
Around that time, a church member and her mother introduced me to Things Jamaican and the JBDC. That is where I met Donna, who has guided and assisted me ever since. She helped me understand how to present myself, how to develop the brand with intention, how to move from someone who loved making jewellery to someone building something real. YAJAHS began to take its shape
Rooted in Culture
Jamaicans are some of the most authentic, bold and resilient people in the world. We are trendsetters without always trying to be. We carry ourselves with a particular kind of pride, and that pride shows up in how we dress, how we dance, how we walk into spaces in general.
These are often showcased in my work. Some pieces are bold and commanding, while others are more subtle, but they still hold their own. I want every piece I create to feel timeless, full of personality, the way our culture is full of personality. I think about the music, the various party sessions like reggae and dancehall, the atmospheric views, whether it be rivers, beaches or mountains. When I create and design, I envision the everyday people just moving through their daily lives. We don’t just wear things. We wear who we are.
I am also deeply drawn to African jewellery and the way those brands carry culture and identity in every detail. The neatness of the work, the vibrancy, the storytelling that doesn’t need explanation. I see YAJAHS in that family: pieces that don’t just look beautiful but have meaning. Jewellery that makes people feel connected to something larger than themselves while still feeling wearable and real.
Holding It All Together, Alone
The hardest parts of this journey have been the unexpected challenges, the experiences nobody warns you about or that you are not prepared for.
Sourcing reliable materials has been an ongoing struggle. What I need is not always available locally, and when it is, the cost can make quality feel like a luxury I have to fight for. Then there is the time, the focus, the physical and mental weight of handling every single part of the business by myself. Creating, packaging, delivery, pop-ups, marketing, customer communication, all of it. Handcrafted pieces take patience and hours, and balancing multiple orders while managing everything else is the kind of exhausting that settles into your body at the end of each day.
There have been occurrences where I felt the weight of classism and colourism and maybe rare instances of racism. Having reached out to stores hoping they would carry my pieces, and felt the particular sting of rejection that doesn’t come from quality, it comes from something else entirely. That hurts. I won’t pretend it didn’t.
But I made the decision to stop allowing these things to demotivate me and to start using them as motivation. Every difficulty taught me something: patience, discipline, perseverance, where my boundaries needed to be established, how confident I needed to be in myself and in what I was creating. I stopped waiting for rooms to open and kept pushing anyway.
For Every Woman Who Was Told to Change
I create pieces for everyone: different generations, different energies, the various social groups, men who are comfortable in who they are, young people still growing into themselves. But when I close my eyes and think about who I am truly making this for, I see women.
Women who are both soft and yet strong. Women who are bold and classy. The everyday working woman. The woman who carries herself with pride, purpose and dignity.
And especially my dark-skinned women. We are told so often, in so many ways, to adjust ourselves. To be less, to be different, to be more acceptable. I want my jewellery to do the opposite of that. I want it to land on your skin and remind you that you are already enough. That your features are beautiful. That you do not need to change a thing to be worthy of adornment.
For the person from the Diaspora who hasn’t been home in years, I want the moment they put on one of my pieces to feel like a reconnection. To culture, to community, to the warmth and familiarity of where they come from. I want them to feel proud of who they are and where they are from. I want them to feel seen.
Just Begin
Things Jamaican has helped me build the structure around the love. Learning to track expenses properly, to package and present my work professionally, to market with intention rather than just sharing whenever inspiration moved me. They have helped me become not just a creative, but a creative entrepreneur.
Five years from now, I want YAJAHS in stores across the island and the Caribbean, recognized as the jewellery brand people trust for quality, uniqueness, and something that lasts. I want a team beside me. I want to expand beyond jewellery into other areas of craft. Mostly, I want to keep making people feel beautiful.
To the young Jamaican designer who is afraid to start: if you truly love it, begin. You learn as you go. The mistakes will come, and they will guide and teach you not just about your skill but also more about yourself. Don’t be too hard on yourself when things don’t go as planned. Trust the process and believe that you are capable and worthy of whatever you set your mind to do. Invest in the learning and development of your craft where possible. And remember that being exactly who you are is not a limitation.
It is your greatest power.
YAJAHS is available at Things Jamaican.
