Monday | May 6, 2002
Go-Jamaica Gleaner Classifieds Discover Jamaica Youth Link Jamaica
Business Directory Go Shopping inns of jamaica Local Communities

Home
Lead Stories
News
Sport
Commentary
Letters
Entertainment
Flair
The Star
E-Financial Gleaner
Overseas News
Search This Site
powered by FreeFind
Services
Weather
Archives
Find a Jamaican
Subscription
Interactive
Chat
Free Email
Guestbook
Personals
ScreenSavers
Submit a Letter
WebCam
Weekly Poll
About Us
Advertising
Gleaner Company
Search the Web!

From prison cell to lecture theatre Alozade speaks at UWI


Alozade

THE REGGAE Studies Unit of the University of the West Indies, Mona Campus, invited another popular deejay to converse with the student population, and anyone else who cared to join in, on Friday afternoon. The title for this month's lecture was 'Street Dreams, Street Realities'. The lecture series was changed from its regular venue of the Neville Hall Lecture Theatre, but several UWI students filed into the Social Sciences Lecture Theatre to hear what Michael Sterling, a.k.a Alozade, had to say about his several months of incarceration.

The lecture hall was understandably only half-full; many students have already begun their vacations as many of the university's final examinations have already taken place. Nonetheless, those who were present seemed eager to partake in the discussions. As Alozade was late, they waited and listened to music being performed by C-Sharp. The band went through several old favourites such as 'Who Could it Be Now, Ghetto Youths and Night Nurse. The lead singer, who has a chameleon-like ability to adapt his voice to almost any song, kept the audience reasonably entertained, abating any feelings of frustration.

Finally, the man of the hour arrived and was greeted by some applause and a few screams. After a very brief introduction by Ibo Cooper, who saw to the smooth running of the evening, Alozade took to the stage.

From his opening sentences, it became evident that this was not to be a lecture. Rather than give any information, Alozade swiftly asked if the audience had any questions. At the time, they seemed to have none - but that would soon change.

At first, the evening appeared as if it were going to be a case of the students trying to get gruesome details about his trials in prison, in the fashion that people gawk at motor vehicle accident victims. Early into Alozade's introduction, when he was giving a somewhat roundabout explanation of why he believes he received the treatment he did, one young man at the back of the room gave out: "When di man dem lack yuh dung, a dat yuh fi talk bout." However, when he was asked to repeat his question, he refrained from doing so.

A more direct approach at getting at the desired information was soon taken by another student, who asked the question which seemed to be buzzing on everybody's mind. "Did you encounter any homosexuality in prison?" he asked. To this, Alozade responded that hearing about prison and going to prison were two very different things. As such he pointed out that homosexuals were separated from the general population. This response seemed to satisfy the audience that no gory details about prison brutality were forthcoming. Thus the pace of the evening was changed.

This occurred when one student after asking Alozade to define profanity. Alozade replied that it meant that it was the use of unacceptable or offensive words. This then led to the question of whether or not he would continue to use profanity in his performance. At this point, Alozade pointed to the crucifixion of Christ.

"Yuh see weh dem do to Jesus Christ?" he asked. "Me go prison one time a'ready. Me nuh need no more." At this point, the student, called Knife, who had asked the leading question, stated: "So di I a run den?" Although it was phrased as a question, it clearly was not. Ibo Cooper quickly quelled the furour that threatened to break out at this point. He asked Alozade what had prompted his behaviour in court on that fateful day. Abandoning any pretence at saying that his outbreak was drug-induced, Alozade pointed out that he had acted reflexively to the fact that the officer had 'draped' him. He was then asked to tell the audience exactly what he had said on-stage to be sent to court. Despite trying to nimbly side-step an actual repetition of his performance, after some convincing the deejay went into stage show mode. After the statement "Oonu mek sure no police no deh ya", he gave in to the audience's demands. The three songs he performed, which appeared to be a string of supposedly indecent language strung together by other words, went over very well with the audience, except for the final song, which not all of the women appreciated. "I hate that song!" one young woman said to her delighted friend, who was also female.

"A same way im gwaan a Sting," the delighted young woman stated when he had begun his first song. "An dem lack up di man fi dat?" her friend queried.

Following his performance, Alozade was then asked if he had recovered from the beating he received that day. After lightly responding "eeheh", which evoked some laughter, he soon stated that what had happened to him, really was not funny. Everyone there seemed to agree.

See related story in today's Star.

Back to Entertainment






















In Association with AandE.com

©Copyright 2000-2001 Gleaner Company Ltd. | Disclaimer | Letters to the Editor | Suggestions