Suandi from National Black Arts Alliance
Thanks to Francia Messado for sending me the press link late last night on the heart-breaking passing of Jamaica’s first female dub poet, Jean Binta Breeze. Instinctively I reached out to LJK as I know Linton and she were close.
I’m not going to say I shared the same level of friendship but over the years Breeze and I shared a lot of time/gigs. I co-MC-ed with Lemn a poetry evening at what also was my first performance; with Breeze, Nichols, Agard and the original Black Identity Workshop poets before some of us became Blackscribe. I was fortunate to share many other performances with her and almost at all of them she would refuse to perform my favourite piece about the woman with the radio in her head but then at the end she would read it giving me a wide grin.
When she was directed by Yvonne Brewster for Talawa Theatre’s production of Shange’s play, I travelled to London in support. Jean was in a grumpy mood accepting a drink from my fella who had been blown away by the show but refusing to speak to the Scottish man.
In Manchester she often stayed at mine and one time, with her daughter. Breeze had been on the brandy so when I heard her daughter tell her there was a black cake box under the bed, I was thankful that she told the child to go asleep. A little later, on hearing Breeze in slumber, I crept into the bedroom to remove the box to the safety of my own cupboard.
Time passed before I spent an afternoon in a bar with her and Agard at some university event we were reading at. I wanted to talk about her wonderful short stories, I loved the one about cricket and the patent shoes little girl, but she was reminiscing with John, and I sat and listened. Later she benefited from the professional support and care of Melanie Abrahams (Renaissance One). I went to the Leicester University event lead by Corrine Fowler (a mentor to me and who later became my friend). She had nominated Breeze and later myself as Writing Fellows. And that was the last time I saw her.
P.S. I did tell Breeze sometime later that I had removed the cake box because it contains my father’s ashes and she thumped me hard. I mean really hard.
