1707, Port Royal, Jamaica. By then, Muggles have largely deserted the city, fleeing to other settlements such as Kingston.

  However, Port Royal, whose concealment charms also include town-wide Bubble-Head and Muggle-Repelling Charms, is one of the main wizarding hubs of the Caribbean, along with Santo Domingo and Martinique.

  In the Submerged Chancery, the seat of the Council of Jamaican Wizards, a parrot arrives, carrying a critical, audio-locked message. The Councillor for Savanna-la-Mar, Igbo, the Council’s cacique (its chief), approaches his postal macaw:

  “Magumbo!” Igbo tells his macaw the password to unlock the enchanted cargo pouch.

  When the enchanted cargo pouch opens, Igbo finds enclosed a short letter from the metropolitan authorities in London. But rather than finding the seal of the Wizards’ Council affixed to it, Igbo’s facial expression, upon finding the seal of the Ministry of Magic can’t begin to describe his feelings.

  Yet, he starts to read the ministerial decree, signed by Ulick Gamp, the new Minister for Magic, and countersigned by the Wizengamot’s Chief Warlock:

  “Notification of Jurisdictional Cessation…” Igbo sighs upon reading the decree’s subject, and afferent notes.

  Aniki, a Maroon councillor for Nanny Town, overhears Igbo. “What do you mean?”

  “The Ministry in London shall henceforth cease to provide Auror protection or judicial oversight for Barbados and Jamaica!” Igbo reads the rather short decree.

  Aniki gasps. “Ministry of Magic?”

  “Just as these old fools in London have started organizing, they saw fit to cut us off!”

  “It was a question of time before this happened! By now the Wizengamot must have realized how impractical it must have been to deal with colonial affairs so far away from London!” Aniki responds to Igbo.

  “They must have sent this… Notification of Jurisdictional Cessation to all British colonies, and, if it hasn’t already, word of metropolitan abandonment will arrive to the Leeward Islands, Barbados, Bermuda, Bahamas, Newfoundland!”

  Our seat is here, in the Submerged Chancery of Port Royal, away from prying Muggle eyes, It won’t be long that news of our independence will reach Santo Domingo, Havana and San Juan, as well as Martinique, Igbo muses about the implications of London’s abandonment of the colonies for its dealings with the rest of the Caribbean wizards.

  “London knew for a while now that we knew our local issues than they ever could. It makes a much bigger difference to them than to us: we had that level of autonomy for as long as there even was a Jamaica, while they no longer need to constantly keep lines of communication!” Aniki retorts.

  “All right, Aniki, we need to call an emergency meeting about the Notification of Jurisdictional Cessation!”

  Igbo then sounds the abeng (a magical horn used for long-distance communication) to call the meeting.

  The Wizards’ Council in London neglected the colonies for years, so we already did essentially whatever we wanted so long as its scope remained strictly within Jamaica. It was unable to oppose the formation of MACUSA, Aniki muses while the other councillors arrive for this extraordinary meeting, most of whom are either Taino bohiques (shamans) or Maroon obeah practitioners.

  The meeting begins with the lighting of a bonfire at the Submerged Chancery’s center, the Batey, by the Council’s firekeeper, Quaco. Who starts lighting the fire and spreading ground tobacco on it.

  “Fellow wizards, the news from London have just arrived. The Ministry of Magic in London has issued a Notice of Jurisdictional Cessation, which has the effect of granting independence to us!” Igbo opens the meeting.

  “Ministry of Magic?” Hatuey, another Taino wizard gasps. “Who do these folk in London think they are? They did nothing for us!”

  “It was long overdue!” Cudjoe, a Maroon councillor, tells the rest of the council, after being handed the talking staff. “They lacked the resources to administer overseas territories, and I have on good faith that these white wizards have no desire to have the ICW on their backs for our breaches!”

  Quaco then adds comments about the predicament of Jamaica’s neighbors, while tending to the sacred fire. “No more than our main neighbor, the viceroyalty of the Spanish West Indies, could be governed effectively from Spain, or Martinique, Guadeloupe or New France from, well, France!”

  Whereas Muggles would instead talk about the Spanish West Indies (SWI) as being insular captaincies general answering to a viceroy in New Spain, SWI wizards, on the other hand, run their own viceroyalty because they, too, feel like having to report to even Mexico is too slow to effectively respond to a breach of the Statute in any of these three insular captaincies general, Marisol, a witch of Spanish descent, muses about her dealings with wizards from Spanish West Indies.

  “Rumor has it that the Spanish West Indies wizarding authorities in Santo Domingo are already well underway towards getting ICW membership!” Marisol comments on the SWI situation. “But perhaps the ICW might instead rule that the three captaincies-general could be their own wizarding countries!”

  Henry, an English survivor from the Port Royal earthquake 15 years earlier, is then handed the speaking staff. “If I may, it seems like the Statute of Secrecy has forced everyone’s hands. It was long overdue because the metropolitan resources were insufficient to administer the Thirteen Colonies back then, giving us independence is more for London’s benefit than to ours because ensuring our own secrecy required us to act as if we were our own government in all but name!”

  “The biggest change would be the need to present ourselves as the legitimate government on the island!” Hatuey retorts. “This also means that British Ministry assets left behind on the island will be ours, too!”

  “A lot of our magical rituals, like areitos, jerk and herbal rituals, tend to be conflated with Muggle ones by white people!” Quaco comments about indigenous obeah and Taino magic to the six councillors, especially Marisol and Henry, the most junior 2 councillors. “So we already have myal practices hidden behind herbalism, Muggle abengs, and so on…”

  “I really hope that the ICW understands that culture can add a layer of complexity in enforcing the Statute of Secrecy, though. Their lack of familiarity with local practices might help us enforce it, but, at the same time, cost us ICW membership!” Igbo points out a big snag Jamaica could hit if the Council moves to apply for ICW membership.

  As the debate continues within the Batey over the matters that concern the newly independent Jamaican wizarding community, along with ICW membership, and how much of a relief it would be for Jamaican wizards to no longer need to deal with the distant London-based authorities.

  Once the meeting ends, the councillors realize that the sudden arrival of the Notice of Jurisdictional Cessation, while not changing a whole lot in the island’s day-to-day governance, still left some questions unanswered. And, as such, has postponed the vote on Jamaica’s ICW application, and has yet to sign the receipt of the Notice.

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  “We must sign quickly, before London changes its mind about our independence!” Henry begs the other councillors.

  “I’m not sure London is acting in good faith. For all we know, we might be trapped!”

  To this purpose, the Council waits until nightfall to initiate a Kromanti dance, under the watchful eye of the zemis (ancestral idols) positioned at each of the four directions. So, once again, Quaco is called upon to light another fire.

  Meanwhile, Igbo prepares the grandy and gumbe, drums that he beats while the Kromanti dance is underway. More specifically, the first act, or yanga, the pleasure dance, and the councillors perform gestures such as the busubrandi, but Henry and Marisol do so more awkwardly than the other 5.

  These metropolitan wizards… colonial ghosts haunted and frightened them for the past 15 years, Henry thinks just as the second act of the Kromanti starts, hours later, during the nyaba act, dedicated to the business phase. Before Port Royal sank into the sea, my predecessors on this council sat in Accompong, deep into the Cockpit Country.

  With Quaco muttering some words in Maroon Spirit Language, the business phase (nyaba) begins when Quaco, as the designated fete-man, enters a trance state. And a duppy, or specter, of a pale, tired man with the silver chain of the British Wizengamot chief warlock appears in front of the councillors. Ulick Gamp.

  “We ask for explanations. All we understand is that communications and supplies take weeks or months to get from England to us!” Quaco exclaims when Ulick’s specter gets to them.

  Marisol asks Ulick’s specter first. “I start to feel there’s more to giving us independence than just the flow of people and supplies!”

  “You see, when the Thirteen Colonies became MACUSA, they assumed none of the debts we incurred for them. And the only way out of this logistical nightmare that the colonies represent is, unfortunately, to let them go. Especially given how onerous policing a fractious and frightened population at home is, the cost of maintaining Aurors, courts, Obliviators or hit wizards in the colonies have become unaffordable. The newly created Department of Magical Law Enforcement costs us a fortune to operate, and organize!”

  Igbo’s tone of voice starts to show signs of irritation. “Are you telling us that the Wizengamot has sacrificed us just because home has become consumed by fear?”

  “It was the only way to save the Ministry, and to calm the collective panic! Jamaica was the most expensive of the gang, the public in London would never have forgiven the Wizengamot for wasting resources on the West Indies while the Statute was threatened at home!” Ulick raises his voice.

  “But the public wouldn’t forgive you either if they learn that, to ensure safety in Britain, the Wizengamot cut the colonies off!” Aniki retorts. “This amounts to a desperate surrender!”

  “Even with your approach to magic that look like superstitions to Muggles, we don’t want to be held responsible for Statute breaches in the colonies!” Ulick retorts. “If you sign the receipt of the Notice of Jurisdictional Cessation, promise us not to reveal this secret to anyone: for us, our former colonies are henceforth self-governing protectorates, and the Ministry is on the verge of bankruptcy!”

  “How else are you going to fund the DMLE?” Henry asks.

  “For smaller infractions, we will prefer fines over prison time; it’s less expensive than having to maintain a jail…”

  Since we already decided that what is to become the Jamaican Ministry of Magic would be funded with excise on strategic merchandise, we might have a better chance to survive if we sell these items around the world, Cudjoe starts to think of how the Jamaican MoM would be funded. Gamp only confirmed what we suspected: London was just a paper tiger, and Port Royal will become the Wickedest City of the Wizarding World! Pimento wands and wood, myal rum, cocoa, sugar, lignum vitae, and these aren’t the only strategic products on which excise is to be levied…

  “One day, the residents will find out the truth about why London left the colonies to fend off for themselves!” Quaco retorts.

  “If they ever find out, they will start to believe that the Ministry can no longer afford to maintain secrecy and peace at home. So I ordered all documents pertaining to these Notices of Jurisdictional Cessation to be occulted permanently. Publicly, doing so is also about rewriting our records to show that we never ran colonies in the first place!” Ulick’s spectral self tries to cover his face.

  “The Wizengamot is lying to the British public just to save it from itself!” Hatuey’s indignation starts to show. “But why did the Wizengamot wait so long to issue this Notice of Jurisdictional Cessation? They could have done so fourteen years earlier!”

  “The chaos of Port Royal, Salem and then the Statute’s ratification were just too much for the Wizards’ Council at the time. Also, Muggle instability, both at home and in the colonies, could have caused a breach without us wanting it! But you’re responsible for past wizarding debts to the extent we incurred them for Jamaican affairs! And, of course, the public is too frightened to look outward!”

  At this point, all 7 councillors could sense the panic in Ulick’s voice, as well as Sir Thomas’ (the Muggle Governor-General of Jamaica) and the Wizengamot’s. But such a visceral feeling of the other side’s despair leaves them a little stunned, and speechless for a bit.

  When the panic ends, Cudjoe revises his budgetary forecasts while considering that Jamaica is now responsible for British debts whose repayments London could no longer enforce.

  “What does cessation imply for law enforcement patrols?” Igbo asks Ulick.

  “They will stop entirely, and we will no longer run a wizarding tribunal in Jamaica…”

  “Now that we have the answers we seek, I suggest we vote on the signature of the receipt of the Notice of Jurisdictional Cessation!” Igbo asks the other 6.

  Now that the councillors are in a better mental state, they can process what Gamp told them in a nyaba phase of the Kramanti ritual.

  About the British population and authorities panic. About the scars of colonial failures in the metropole. About the debts Jamaica are now in, and how this Notice of Jurisdictional Cessation is the final straw with London.

  But at the same time, it shed some light on their actions, and they understand better what to expect, going forward, out of their interactions with Britain once their independence is confirmed.

  “Those in favor of signing the receipt, say aye!” Quaco tells the councillors.

  “Aye!” the councillors holler in unison.

  “By a unanimous vote, the Council of Jamaican Wizards hereby declare the magical independence from the British Crown! It shall henceforth be known as the Jamaican Ministry of Magic!”

  With the vote being concluded, Quaco extinguishes the batey’s fire and, with it, Gamp’s duppy disappears from the room.

  After the vote’s conclusion, they magically tack on together cotton pieces for a total breadth of six breadths of 11 inches apiece. Once the cotton pieces are in position, the five non-Whites start dyeing it, with the yellow saltire being dyed first, in an X-shape. And then comes the turn of the black field on the saltire’s left and right, and finally, the green on the top and bottom. The Golden Saltire, which will see Muggle use on the island only centuries later but, for now, Muggles will treat it as private.

  The following day, Igbo sounds the abeng to signal the time for the island’s wizards to assemble in Port Royal in front of the Submerged Chancery which, for the time being, still flies the Muggle St. George’s Cross as was flown in 1692.

  When the island’s wizards are assembled on what used to be Lime Street (or at least some of them) in front of the Submerged Chancery, Quaco lights a ceremonial fire on the ground floor, and the other 5 councillors take turns signing the receipt of the Notice, while Igbo starts addressing the crowd from a balcony:

  “Today is the day where the island is freed from the Wizengamot’s negligence in London, whose issuance of a Notice of Jurisdictional Cessation made them acknowledge the truth of its inability to govern over us, and admit defeat! From this day onward, Jamaica will be its own wizarding country, and the Jamaican Ministry of Magic shall serve all Jamaican wizards!”

  Marisol and Henry then bring out the cage containing the macaw that will carry the receipt to the British Ministry of Magic’s headquarters in London, weeks from now, and also sign the receipt first. Then come the turn of Hatuey, Cudjoe, and then Aniki.

  The wizards who will see changes the most will be those involved in life away from the island in some capacity, Hatuey muses as he signs the receipt to be sent to London as soon as the Golden Saltire is flying on top of the Submerged Chancery.

  Aniki and Henry get to the Submerged Chancery’s rooftop, with the Golden Saltire in tow, then take down the St. George’s Cross before replacing it with the Golden Saltire. Which the Submerged Chancery now flies, 40 feet underwater, away from the prying eyes of the Muggle Royal Navy.

  However, Igbo, now Jamaica’s Minister of Magic, waits until the old St. George’s Cross is brought into the ceremonial bonfire to actually sign the receipt.

  Once the English flag has burned into the ceremonial bonfire, Igbo affixes the final signature for the Notice of Jurisdictional Cessation to take effect in Jamaica, along with the date of the receipt, and the capacity in which he signs it.

  Once all 7 signatures are in place, the receipt is loaded onto the macaw bound for the British Ministry of Magic’s headquarters in London, where Ulick will receive it.

  And the British wizarding empire will then be declared dead even as the Muggle one is still growing.

  This marks the beginning of centuries of British isolationism, with the population being unaware of the real reasons why Britain lost its wizarding colonies for centuries, even after the Muggle British Empire lost theirs.