REMEMBERING MR. EDDIE CARVERY
OF AFRICVILLE, Nova SCotia
dj5rivers - Digital Feature - February 17, 2026
Toronto, ON, Canada
I lived in Halifax for almost a decade. In that time, I spent a lot of hours working in community organizing, program coordination, and radio. It was through this work that I first learned about African Nova Scotian history, a knowledge that seemed entirely disconnected from any formal or informal education I had received up until that point.
In 2022, I was part of a team commissioned to archive the evolution of African Nova Scotian hip hop through community. It was during this project that I had the privilege of sitting down with Mr. Eddie Carvery and witnessing firsthand what Africville felt and sounded like. It was a sunny spring day. Tandra, Mr. Carvery, and the production team gathered by his protest site and talked for hours.
I am so grateful for that opportunity. I am grateful for all of my time in Nova Scotia; learning from, collaborating with, and witnessing African Nova Scotian history in real time.
For those reading from Toronto, Vancouver, or anywhere else around the world, you might be wondering: who was Eddie Carvery, and why should I know about Africville?
You're not alone. Most Canadians have never heard this story; it wasn't in my textbooks either.
Canadians learned about Canada as a haven through the Underground Railroad, but not what happened to Black communities once they arrived. We weren't taught about the Black Refugees who built Africville in the 1840s, only for the City of Halifax to spend a century denying them basic services while locating a prison, an infectious disease hospital, and eventually the city dump next to their homes. We weren't taught how between 1964 and 1970, the city systematically bulldozed this 124-year-old community under "urban renewal," displacing families with minimal compensation, erasing homes, a church, and generations of history to make way for a bridge approach. This erasure is archival.
The story simply didn't make it into provincial curricula, leaving most Canadians to drive across the Mckay bridge with no idea, that a historical Black Loyalist community was once beneath them.
The History They Tried to Bulldoze
Africville was a predominantly Black community founded in the 1840s on the shores of Halifax's Bedford Basin.
It was settled by Black Refugees from the War of 1812, formerly enslaved African Americans who had escaped the United States and fought for Britain, who settled themselves in Nova Scotia, that wasn't always welcoming.
At its peak, roughly 400 residents built a vibrant, self-sufficient enclave with homes, a school, a post office, and the Seaview African United Baptist Church—the spiritual and social heart of the neighborhood.
Despite being taxpayers, Africville residents were denied basic municipal services by the City of Halifax for over a century.
For generations, there was no running water, no sewage system, no paved roads, no electricity. Meanwhile, the city deliberately located its most undesirable facilities in and around Africville: Rockhead Prison (1853), an infectious disease hospital (1870s), a slaughterhouse, a tar factory, a stone crushing plant, and eventually the city's garbage dump. In 1958, the dump was moved adjacent to the community,a decision now recognized as a clear act of environmental racism.
Between 1964 and 1970, the City of Halifax systematically razed Africville under the banner of "urban renewal" to make way for industrial development and the approach to the A. Murray MacKay Bridge. Families were displaced, their homes bulldozed. Residents who held deeds received minimal compensation based on market value, far below what their properties were worth. Those without deeds, much of the population were offered just $500 and told to leave. In early January 1970, the city bulldozed the last remaining home. The land became Seaview Memorial Park, named after the demolished church.
Think about that: a community that had existed for over a century, erased in six years.
The hisotric church that had baptized generations, gone.
The homes where children had been raised, rubble.
The land where families had built lives despite being denied basic services, paved over for a bridge approach.
It wasn't until 1996 that Africville was designated a National Historic Site of Canada. In 2010, forty years after the last home was destroyed, the City of Halifax issued a formal apology and pledged $3 million plus land to the Africville Heritage Trust. A replica of the Seaview church now serves as the Africville Museum, opened in 2012. Yet for many, the apology and compensation were insufficient. Some former residents and descendants are currently suing Halifax for damages caused by the community's destruction.
Eddie Carvery: The Eternal Flame.
Eddie Carvery was born in Africville in 1946. He was a young man when he watched his community destroyed homes he'd grown up in, neighbors he'd known his whole life, all of it bulldozed. While others accepted the city's terms and left, Eddie stayed.
In 1970, he began what would become the longest-standing protest in Canadian history.
For more than 50 years (that is half a century) Eddie Carvery lived in a trailer on the grounds of Africville Park, refusing to leave until justice was served.
He survived multiple eviction orders. His trailers were destroyed, most recently in 2019. He faced harassment. He endured health crises including heart attacks and Hepatitis C.
But he stayed.
To understand what that means, imagine committing yourself to a single cause for longer than most people have been alive.
Imagine waking up every day on the land your community was stolen from, in a trailer that could be taken at any moment, waiting for a recognition that might never come.
That was Eddie Carvery's life.
He told The Canadian Press in 2016: "I've seen the Ku Klux Klan. I've been chased out of Africville by the police... Negative people used to come down and chased me out. They burnt my little place a couple times, but I'm still there."
His grandson, Eddie Carvery III, described the legacy he inherited: "Most people get to inherit some kind of wealth, a home. I inherited a duty, but I couldn't be more proud of it."
Poet and activist El Jones remembered him as "an anchor of memory, a reminder that Africville has not gone away, it was not destroyed." Author Jon Tattrie, who wrote "The Hermit of Africville", called him "that eternal flame."
Rest in Power
For someone reading in a city across Canada or elsewhere in the world, here's what I want you to understand: this IS Canadian story.
The destruction of Africville was a deliberate act by a municipal government that had spent a century treating a Black community as a convenient place to dump the city's waste and locate its unwanted facilities. It was urban renewal as a weapon. It is a strong message to a whole generation that has to come back to their community and find a dog park.
It is violent displacement justified by progress.
And Eddie Carvery's half-century protest?
That's refusal to let a people's history be erased.
That's what it looks like when someone decides that justice delayed cannot become justice denied.
There are Africvilles across this world, communities displaced, histories buried, names you've never heard. Mr. Eddie Carvery stood for all of them. He stood so that it made it impossilbe for people to look away.
This week, when I heard of Mr. Eddie Carvery's passing, it deeply saddened me.
To hear that the longest-standing protest in Canadian history has lost its keeper deeply saddens our hearts. Our deepest condolences to the Carvery family and community of Africville on this deep loss.
If you're reading this and you'd never heard of him before, here's your invitation: learn his name, donate to the fight and stay informed.
Remember what he stood for, because the land is still there. The fight is still there. And as long as we remember, Eddie Carvery he will still be there (in spirit) too.
Long live the fight to restore Africville!!
what Africville meant to the African Nova Scotian community:
A Haven of Self-Sufficiency – Founded in the 1840s by Black Refugees from the War of 1812, Africville was a vibrant, close-knit community where residents built their own homes, ran fishing businesses, operated small farms and stores, and created a life despite being denied basic services by the city . It was a place where Black families could live freely, away from the discrimination they faced in Halifax .
The Church Was the Heartbeat – The Seaview African United Baptist Church, established in 1849, was the spiritual and social center of the community . It was where baptisms, weddings, funerals, and community gatherings took place, and its music—gospel, jazz, and soul—filled the homes, with nearly every household having a piano or organ .
A Site of Joy and Community Life – Africville is so more than its destruction; it was a place of childhood memories, sports, music and recreation. Children swam in Tibby's Pond, played baseball, and in the winter, played hockey when the pond froze . The Africville Seasides hockey team was a powerhouse in the Hockey League, winning championships in 1901 and 1902 .
An Enduring Symbol of Resilience and Resistance – Despite the city locating a prison, an infectious hospital, slaughterhouses, and finally the city dump next to their homes, the community persisted . Today, Africville stands as a powerful symbol of Black Canadian identity and the struggle against systemic racism and environmental racism .
A Legacy That Lives On – Designated a National Historic Site in 1996 , and with the City of Halifax issuing a formal apology in 2010 , the spirit of Africville endures through the Africville Museum (a replica of the original church) , annual reunions, and the ongoing fight for justice led by descendants like the Carvery family .