There is always something quietly fascinating about the way we build homes, and the way those homes in turn build us. In Jamaica, the story of housing is not just about bricks and mortar, or steel and glass. It is about ambition, heritage, and that deep, unshakable need for shelter. It is also about markets—those unpredictable tides that sweep confidence in one year, and doubt the next.
Today, the headlines speak of Kingston’s towers, of apartments sold below their asking price, and of a skyline seemingly more ambitious than its buyers. But to imagine this as the whole story would be a grave mistake. What we’re witnessing is not collapse, but one more verse in a long, familiar refrain. The market exhales, as it always has, and it will inhale again.
“In real estate, patience isn’t just a virtue—it’s the currency of opportunity. Markets breathe, and when they exhale, the wise prepare to inhale.” – Dean Jones
A Story Written in Stone and Time
To understand the present, one must look back. Jamaica’s housing history is layered like the stone terraces of its hillsides. Colonial mansions once stood as testaments of status, but they were built on uncomfortable foundations of inequity. After independence, the focus shifted. Suburbs sprouted, government schemes took shape, and houses rose block by block, paycheck by paycheck, fuelled by remittances sent from abroad.
In the 1990s, the diaspora returned with vigour, money in hand, demanding modern conveniences, gated security, and the kind of polish they had seen overseas. Developers responded, and Kingston began to grow upwards. By the 2010s and 2020s, the city’s skyline was defined not by church steeples or colonial relics, but by apartment blocks, their rooftops crowned with pools and gyms.
It was a bold vision. Perhaps, in truth, a little too bold.
Cycles We Never Quite Escape
The Jamaican housing market, like every other, lives in cycles.
In the 1980s, mortgage rates soared into punishing double digits. Sales froze. Families paused their dreams. And yet, as rates fell, buyers rushed back and the cycle resumed.
In 2008, the global financial crisis brought fear and hesitation. Transactions slowed, projects stalled. But still, the recovery came.
In 2020, COVID-19 silenced airports, stopped tourism, and froze the property market. And yet, within months of reopening, buyers flooded back, particularly those Jamaicans abroad who suddenly realised the importance of having a base here.
The lesson is simple: pause is never permanence.
“Jamaica’s housing story isn’t written in quarters or years—it’s carved into generations. Land is legacy, and legacy never loses value.” – Dean Jones
Kingston: The Towers and the Truth
Kingston’s developers looked to the sky and believed the appetite for modern apartments was endless. For years, it almost was. But when everyone builds the same product at the same time, supply inevitably begins to outrun demand.
And so, by 2024, some apartments sold for less than they had been listed. It was, to some, a sign of weakness. To others, merely a reminder that markets cannot be defied forever.
But this is not the whole island. Beyond Kingston, there are the villas of Montego Bay, forever attractive to international buyers; the transformed coastline of Ocho Rios, its appeal only magnified by new highways; the quiet exclusivity of Portland, untouched and verdant; the eco-conscious projects emerging in Negril; and the solid middle-class growth in Mandeville.
Kingston may be the capital, but it is not the sum.
The Present: Affordability Meets Aspiration
Affordability is now the word on everyone’s lips. Interest rates rose in 2022 and 2023, pushing mortgages out of reach for some. Imported material costs soared, and construction followed. Many Jamaicans felt their dream slip further away.
And yet, the dream persists. Demand for homes under JMD $25 million remains fierce. Luxury properties in the resort towns continue to attract overseas buyers, bringing foreign exchange into the market. The strange paradox is that while some buyers retreat, others surge forward.
It is, in truth, the dance of aspiration against affordability.
Tomorrow: The Next Wave
Forecasts suggest that by 2026, sales will rise once again, helped by lower interest rates. Developers, watching closely, are already shifting gears. There will still be towers, but increasingly the conversation is about mixed-use spaces, about affordable schemes, about sustainability.
Perhaps this is what the market needed—not just more building, but better balance.
“The next great chapter in Jamaican real estate won’t be written in concrete and steel alone—it will be built in balance, where sustainability and affordability meet.” – Dean Jones
Sellers: The Art of Waiting
For sellers who withdrew their properties after disappointing offers, this season may feel cruel. Yet history shows us that waiting is often wise. Real estate is not a sprint—it is a slow walk with the horizon in sight.
The key lies in knowing when to step back in. That is the work of an astute agent: watching, measuring, and knowing the moment before the wider crowd sees it.
Buyers: Opportunity Disguised
For buyers, particularly those with courage, this may be the moment to move. In Kingston, softened apartment prices are doors half-open. Beyond the capital, areas poised for growth offer investments that tomorrow will seem obvious.
It’s not unlike mango season here. Wait too long for the fruit to ripen perfectly, and you’ll find the sweetest Julie mangos already gone, the branches picked clean by someone else who simply had the nerve to reach first.
The Dean Jones Perspective
Dean Jones, founder of Jamaica Homes and a Realtor Associate at Coldwell Banker Jamaica Realty, has lived these cycles—both as a builder and as a guide. His reflections are not about panic, but perspective.
“Don’t measure your property’s worth by today’s headlines. Measure it by tomorrow’s horizon.” – Dean Jones
And in those words lies the greatest lesson: the short term may sting, but the long term is what builds legacy.
Conclusion: A Market, A History, A Future
Jamaica’s housing market is not Kingston’s apartments alone. It is a tapestry woven from colonial pasts, suburban expansions, diaspora returns, and modern towers. It is a story of pauses and recoveries, of ambition and correction.
History shows us the pattern: a slowdown is not the end, merely the pause before the next movement. Jamaica’s market has always recovered, and it always will.
So when the towers of Kingston stand a little quieter, remember: this is not failure, it is breath. The island’s real estate, like its people, pauses only to return with greater strength.