By Rony Saint-fleur | Music & Culture Analysis | January 7, 2026
Kompa has always been bigger than sound. It’s a social map: who you danced with, which DJ made the room levitate, what city the band really belongs to, what year the scene turned a corner. That’s why a naming dispute can land like a gut punch. A name isn’t just branding—it’s memory, muscle, and a claim to space.
Over the past few months, that tension has crystallized around one word: “Zafem.” It’s a word that, depending on who’s speaking, can feel like a personal declaration (“this is mine / this is my thing”) or like a borrowed identity. And now it’s also the subject of a federal trademark case in Brooklyn.
What we know / what’s alleged
Documented in court orders: In Wiss Joseph & Marie Joseph v. Dener Ceide et al. (Case No. 24-cv-6572, E.D.N.Y.), the court describes plaintiffs as owners of a registered, stylized mark bearing the text “Zafem World Entertainment,” registered in 2021 after alleged use “for nearly a decade” to promote Haitian-American concerts and related entertainment events.
The court’s November 14, 2025 order states the action was filed Sept. 18, 2024; defendants were served in March 2025; the court entered default judgment on Sept. 18, 2025 (including an injunction and $1 million in statutory damages); and the court later granted a motion to set the default aside subject to conditions, including attorneys’ fees/costs and a $100,000 bond, staying vacatur/enforcement pending compliance.
Alleged in an interview: In a KompaEvents interview posted on Oct. 31, 2025, spokesperson Jean-Claude Victor claims a New York–based “Zafèm Band” existed under the “Zafem” name as far back as 2007 and says he tried to raise the issue directly before legal escalation. Those are his allegations, not findings in the court orders cited above. (facebook.com)
Timeline (the short, checkable version)
- 2007 (claim): Victor alleges “Zafem” was in local New York use beginning in 2007. (YouTube)
- 2014 (public promotions): A January 2014 press-release-style post about Tonèl in Brooklyn lists “Zafem Band” among artists said to have performed there; a separate Facebook-group post contains OCR text referencing a Jan. 11, 2014 event flyer with “Zafem Band” at Tonèl. (B.E. Relations Publishing)
- 2021 (registration): A trademark listing shows ZAFEM WORLD ENTERTAINMENT registered Jan. 5, 2021 (Reg. No. 6236579), filed Nov. 26, 2019. (Justia Trademarks)
- Sept. 18, 2024 (lawsuit filed): The case docket lists the filing date as Sept. 18, 2024. (Justia Dockets & Filings)
- Sept. 18, 2025 (default judgment): The November 2025 order states default judgment entered Sept. 18, 2025, including $1 million statutory damages and injunctive relief.
- Nov. 14, 2025 (default set aside conditionally): The court granted relief from default subject to conditions, including a $100,000 bond and fee/cost requirements, with vacatur/enforcement stayed pending satisfaction.
Why this word hits differently in Haitian Creole
Part of what makes the “Zafem” dispute feel so emotionally loaded is that the word isn’t a random invented label—it sounds like everyday Haitian Creole. In Haitian Creole, “zafè” commonly means affair / business / concern / matters, and phrases like “zafè m” show up as “my things / my business,” including examples translated as “Don’t touch my belongings” and “Things are not going well for me.” (sweetcoconuts.blogspot.com)
That matters culturally because kompa names often work like slogans: short, chantable, easy to print on a flyer, and instantly legible in the diaspora. A name like “Zafem” can read as a statement of ownership and self-definition—exactly the kind of phrase that thrives in music scenes where identity is constantly negotiated across cities, languages, and platforms.
So when two camps claim the same word, the clash isn’t only legal. It feels like a fight over who gets to say “this is ours,” and who gets to be believed.
How “Zafèm” became a cultural signifier (in the public record)
The better-known “Zafèm” project associated with Dener Céide and Reginald Cangé is documented in Haitian press well before the 2023 album moment.
- In October 2019, Gazette Haiti covered “Savalou” as the first title of “Zafèm,” describing the project as newly revealed and framing it with civic/historical messaging tied to the release date. (Gazette Haiti)
- In May 2023, Telemix reported that the album “LAS” was released on Friday, May 5, 2023. (telemix.tv)
- In June 2023, Le Nouvelliste reported that “LAS” made a first appearance on Billboard charts and referenced “millions” of listens on platforms since release (their phrasing), placing the group’s popularity inside a mainstream metric conversation. (Le Nouvelliste)
You can debate how much any single chart appearance “means,” but culturally, the point is simpler: once a name becomes the shorthand for a moment—that sound, that era, that feeling—it stops functioning like a neutral label. It becomes an identity marker.
The diaspora has its own receipts (and they don’t always look like court exhibits)
Victor’s claim of use “since 2007” is not something the court orders confirm. But the New York scene is also not a blank slate.
A January 2014 post about Tonèl Restaurant, Bar & Lounge in East Flatbush describes the venue as rooted in Haitian cultural experience and lists “Zafem Band” among a range of artists and groups said to have performed there. (B.E. Relations Publishing) The post names Tonèl’s address on Rogers Avenue and frames the venue as a space for live entertainment and Haitian tradition. (B.E. Relations Publishing)
And if you’ve lived the diaspora nightlife circuit, you know what that means: restaurants and lounges are often informal cultural institutions. They’re where bands get tried out, where reputations are built, where the community decides what name “belongs” to whom—long before anyone files anything with an agency.
This is also where the conflict gets tricky. Diaspora “receipts” often exist as flyers, Instagram posts, Facebook albums, and word-of-mouth—artifacts that feel decisive to participants but can be hard to translate into a clean, courtroom narrative.
What the court papers actually say (and what they don’t)
1) The default judgment order: “taken as true” (for that procedural moment)
The default-judgment decision explains that, for purposes of the motion, allegations in the complaint relating to liability are taken as true because defendants did not appear. (Justia Law)
Within that framework, the order states (as allegations accepted for the motion) that:
- In May 2023, defendants attempted to register the mark “Zafem” for competing services, and the USPTO rejected the application, with the order describing the rejection as finding that using “Zafem” would infringe plaintiffs’ trademark rights.
- The order further states that defendants continued using “Zafem,” set up “zafemmusic.com,” and released an album under the name.
2) The November 2025 order: reopening the case (conditionally), not deciding the culture
The November 14, 2025 order describes the procedural path: filing date, service, default judgment, and the motion to set aside default. It then grants relief subject to conditions (fees/costs and a bond) and stays vacatur/enforcement pending compliance.
Crucially, this order also signals what the “real” fight would be if litigated on the merits. It discusses the prior use defense and lays out what a defendant must prove to maintain it (present rights, rights acquired prior to registration, continual use, and use prior to the registrant).
That’s the bridge between culture and law: the court is effectively saying, “If you want the story of earlier, continuous use to matter here, it has to be shown in a way the legal framework recognizes.”
A familiar Haitian music pattern: similar names, rival histories
Haitian music has seen name-adjacent coexistence and splits before—sometimes messy, sometimes normalized over time. One well-known example is the Djakout split and naming evolution: Le Nouvelliste’s 2025 piece on Djakout Mizik references “the split that led to Djakout #1.” (Le Nouvelliste)
That history doesn’t “solve” the Zafem dispute, but it adds cultural context: Haitian audiences have experience holding two truths at once—
- that names carry lineage and legitimacy, and
- that scenes evolve in ways paperwork rarely captures neatly.
The deeper tension: cultural legitimacy vs. legal legibility
Here’s the uncomfortable part: the culture does not run on the same proof system as trademark law.
- Culture runs on recognition: who the crowd associates with the name, who moved the genre, who made the moment.
- Trademark runs on classification: which mark, for which services, in which channels, with what continuity, and with what likelihood of confusion.
The “Zafem World Entertainment” registration is broad on paper (it lists many entertainment-related services). (Justia Trademarks) Meanwhile, the court’s November order itself notes the defendants’ argument that “Zafem” is inseparable from their band’s identity while plaintiffs’ use is with “Zafem World Entertainment,” and it references the absence (in the motion papers) of evidence of actual confusion—again, in the context of assessing a “meritorious defense,” not making a final finding.
So the case sits exactly where Haitian music often sits: at the intersection of identity and infrastructure—what the people feel is real, and what institutions can process as real.
Why this conversation lands now (and why it’s bigger than one case)
It’s hard to talk about this without noticing the larger moment Haitian kompa is in. In December 2025, AP reported that UNESCO added compas (konpa/kompa) to its cultural heritage list, emphasizing the genre’s cultural significance and its role in bringing people together. (AP News)
That kind of recognition doesn’t just celebrate the music—it also increases the stakes around who gets to represent it, package it, tour it, and monetize it. As Haitian music becomes more visible internationally, the “back office” questions—names, rights, ownership, credit—start surfacing louder.
If you’re reading this as a fan, what’s the responsible takeaway?
- Don’t treat the loudest narrative as the proven one.
Victor’s interview is an allegation-rich account; the court record is a procedural snapshot with legal consequences. Both matter, but they aren’t the same kind of truth. - Watch for evidence that translates across worlds.
In a dispute like this, the most powerful materials are often boring: dated flyers, contracts, booking confirmations, continuous public use, consistent branding, and proof of how audiences understood the name over time. - Hold space for the possibility that “ownership” can split.
Culture can recognize one claimant while law recognizes another, or law can carve the world into categories that feel unnatural to listeners. That mismatch is often where the pain comes from.
Closing
The dispute over “Zafem” isn’t only about who filed first or who streamed more. It’s about how Haitian identity gets stored: in songs, in scenes, in diaspora venues, and—sometimes uncomfortably—in federal court filings.
If kompa is a living archive, then this is an argument over the label on the box.
Source note: KompaEvents interview posting dated Oct. 31, 2025. (facebook.com) Court orders referenced: default judgment decision/order (Sept. 2025) and decision/order granting conditional relief from default (Nov. 14, 2025).
