Rose and Revelry: What the Reaction to Tribe’s Goodie Bag Selection Tells Us about Caribbean Perceptions of Female Sexuality

On February 6th, a popular local Trinidadian content creator, Achsah Henry, posted an unboxing of the Tribe female goodie bag. A seemingly innocent video became the site of controversy when she pulled out the final item, a custom purple tribe rose toy. The 2-minute-long video, which now has over 300 thousand views, triggered comments that ranged from praise to harsh critiques of the mas band’s decision to include a sex toy in their customer package for 2026. 

For me, this debate reveals a lot about shifting cultural perceptions of female sexuality, tensions between an older and newer generation’s sexuality and hints at the emergence of new narratives around women’s pleasure and the place of sexuality within mas.  It highlights an irony that even though we can proudly proclaim that “carnival is woman” at every carnival fete, when the woman in question takes agency over her own sexuality, then suddenly the church has to call on the government to step in to address this obscenity (insert big fat steups)

“Far more critical than determining whether or not a sex toy in a carnival goodie bag is appropriate is investigating our own relationship with sex, consent and our commitment to false modesty as a people” -Amalda Quong Sing, writer, communication strategist and Caribbean Feminist 

The Rose Toy as a Reclamation of Female Sexuality 

I think most of us can conclude that Tribe putting a rose toy in a goodie bag was a combination of capitalising on carnival’s proximity to Valentine’s day and maximising outrage marketing by spotlighting female pleasure - an issue that’s known to be contentious. Right? Great. What’s more interesting than this is analysing the public’s reaction to this decision, which ranged from loud distaste to full support. 

What makes the rose toy so controversial?

To put it simply, it’s about power and agency (isn’t it always?). 

As Cousineau shares in Sex, Power and Controlling Bodies, “Through  sex/gender  systems and  the  constructed power relationships that come along  with them, many men  find entitlement to women, women’s bodies, and sex.” 

In a society that is shaped by Christian standards of morality and within which patriarchy is deeply entrenched, sex is largely seen as an act that is performed for the sole purpose of reproduction and/or to appease the sexual desires of men. For Tribe to present the rose toy – a palm-sized, silicone, clitoral suction device in the shape of a rose used mostly by folks assigned female at birth (AFAB) – is in direct contradiction to these long-held social norms and ideals. 

I’ve seen dozens of comments share “what about men?” or “tribe is trying to replace men,” when in reality, a healthy sexual life does not always have to include a partner (male or otherwise). How dare women control their desires and derive their pleasure independently? The positioning of men as central to sexuality is an archaic and misogynistic view that invisibilises the experience of diverse and varied forms of sexual relationships. It’s the same line of reasoning that illegitimises queer forms of sexual expression. 

Carnival and Sexuality 

Other critiques of Tribe’s decision to include a sex toy in their goodie bag use the justification that there’s no place in mas for sex. However, Carnival has long been connected to conversations around sex, sexuality, gender identity and gender expression. Women’s sexuality has played and continues to play a prominent role in mas.  

“Carnival has always been sensual. It is a festival rooted in embodied expression. Bodies move because they can. Because they were once controlled. Because freedom had to be reclaimed physically before it could be claimed politically. That is part of the culture.”  - Nadia Renata 

It’s also been a site for many forms of sexual liberation and gender expression beyond strict binaries (eg.cross dressing was a fixture of traditional forms of mas with men in the late 19th century often playing as women in Dame Lorraine mas) 

“The Dame Lorraine mas was so engaging, its performers were not solely liberated slaves or even women. Often, beneath the masks were cross-dressing men, many of whom happened to be the descendants of the very French planters they were mocking. These persons of respectability paraded and danced for all and sundry, disguised from sight, revelling in the freedom of downtown Carnival.” - Dylan Kerrigan  for Caribbean Beat  Issue 71 (January/February 2005)

Sexuality and Stigma 

Controversy and stigmatisation of sexuality are far from a new concept in the Caribbean. Despite Carnival being a time for sexual liberation, everybody knows that in Caribbean societies, we do not talk about sex. We skirt the issue with tongue-in-cheek innuendos and coded terms (cocolooks, nani, etc.), but to openly discuss sex, sexuality and pleasure in plain terms is something that, for many, is a radical act. We’re fine as a society to talk about sex in the context of sexual health, reproduction and STI prevention, but as soon as the perspective of sex shifts from clinical to the pleasurable, to a large extent, it becomes too taboo to talk about.

Shifts amongst a New Generation 

With the negative comments, there were also positive ones celebrating Tribe’s decision to centre pleasure in a real way. Coupled with these were dozens of op-eds, video essays and blog articles written and recorded by Caribbean folks offering bitingly sharp and nuanced critiques of the backlash faced by Tribe. I’ve linked a few of my favourites below. 

For a generation that has grown up on the periphery of western movements for sexual liberation, freedom of choice and bodily autonomy, it’s natural to see this resistance. Emboldened by digital platforms, we are also empowered to publicly share our perspectives and opinions, essentially breaking the culture of silence around sexuality that has been a fixture of Caribbean societies for far too long.  

Credible Critiques 

Intermingled with the misogynistic takes from problematic keyboard warriors was an analysis that reasonably took issue with the shift in narrative around carnival from a cultural celebration to a season of sex. I read somewhere(kidding... I watched a TikTok) that talked at length about the way that carnival promoters are abandoning the rich decolonial history of Carnival in favour of selling the occasion as a moment for debauchery and looseness. While valid to an extent, the history of Carnival has always included some aspect of sexuality and has always centred women’s bodies as both sites of resistance and of objectification. 

Zooming Out 

Carnival is juxtaposed with a culture that criminalises non-heteronormative expressions of sex, where comprehensive sexuality education remains a point of tension within school environments and where the culture of gendered violence continues to frame women’s bodies as subjects for male domination. I mean, look at the GBV statistics.  It’s hard to have a nuanced discussion about women’s sexual pleasure when, as a society, we have not laid the groundwork of conversations around consent, sexuality and pleasure to allow women the sexual agency that they have the right to embody. 

What Happens Now?

Am I surprised that a rose toy sparked this much cultural controversy? Not even a little bit. I’m also not naive enough to believe that this marks the start of an era of renewed sexual liberation for Caribbean people. To achieve that would require sustained public interest and attention. This rose toy reminds us that, as much as we try to deny it, pleasure is political. In a society that wants women to be small, to carry the burden of care for others to the point of self-neglect, to submit, to conform and to serve, self-pleasure is transgressive. It is self-indulgent, and in this indulgence, it is revolutionary. 

Tribe got us all talking, but what happens next?  Are we going to have honest conversations about sex and pleasure in our homes and communities? Are we going to introduce sex-ed so that new generations can be informed about their bodies and sexual agency? Or will the rose, like most things, get lost in the aftermath of the 7-day outrage cycle? 

Things to Read: 

• No Sex Please, We’re Feminists: Sexual Silences in Caribbean Gender and Development Studies by Tonya Haynes 

• Their story: Carnival, Women, Sexuality and Sex in the Caribbean by Shivaughn Hem-Lee-Forsyth

• Female Agency and Oppression in Caribbean Bacchanalian Culture: Soca, Carnival, and Dancehall by Kevin Frank 

• Pleasure as a Radical Resolution: Why Feeling Good Is Political by Hail Groo 

Things to Watch: 

• Reclaiming sexual identity through carnival TedXPortofSpain 

• Carnival Bodies: An Exploration of Performing Gender and Sexuality in Carnival

• Perspectives on Rose Toy - Ro-Ann Mohammed

About the Author 

Sapphire (she/her) is an intersectional feminist based in Trinidad and Tobago who writes about gender, politics, climate and sexuality.