Sunday 25 January 2015

Like a Rangatang Dancing On a Cloud

From Charles (Charlie) Adams - Chris' friend from Edinburgh University. 

Your Dear Brother Chris and I met while he was at Edinburgh University. We used to go together sometimes to nights at the Messenger (Reggae) Sound System club night played at the Bongo Club in Edinburgh.

I would have written to you before if I had known about his blog... I only found it yesterday through a FB contact, a mutual friend from Uni days.  His blog, by the way, is beautifully written and describes him so very well. I am so happy to read the memories of him and I know that his soul and spirit continues to live within those closest to him.  

It is also lovely to have seen a picture of him, exactly how I remember Chris. A handsome man, with a unique chin, charming, gentle, kind, humourous and easy-going, with a big warm heart and free-spirited soul. A man who was a great mover and groover on the Reggae dance floor. Those days were such fun and I am so happy that I experienced my Reggae dancing, clubing days with your Bro.  Fond memories that will never die. I could always rely on him to say yes when I called him to ask whether he was up for joining me to go to the Bongo club. I would have loved to have met him again and often think of him. Maybe we will meet in another world. 

When your Brother went missing strangely enough I was working in the French Alps and one day I came off the mountain and walked into one of the cafes where I came across a UK newspaper - I think it may have been The Daily Mail. As I had not seen the papers for months and was cut off from what was happening back at home (no bad thing), I picked the newspaper up off the table to have a peek at what was happening outside my 'Mountain Bubble'. The first page I opened I could not believe what I saw and read. It was the story about Chris and the news of him going missing. It came as such a shock. 

I am so sorry not to have been in touch as I lost contact with quite a few old friends from Uni days. I was very happy to have made friends with your Brother while he was studying at Edinburgh. I often think of him and when I listen to some reggae tracks that remind me of the days of the Bongo Club I smile and think of your Brother as we used to enjoy dancing to our Reggae and Dub beats. I have to say your Bro had some of the best moves on the dance floor. That makes me happy when I think about it... arms swinging in the air like a Rangatang dancing on a cloud, with his feet stomping to the beat in rhythm to his swinging arms and soul playing :) 

I can still picture him in my mind when I go back to those days.



You guys must miss him so much and by heart feels for you and your family. I know that you will keep his spirit alive and the fond memories of him will never die. One day we will meet him again, it may not be in this world but it will be in another life and I look forward to that. His memories and sparkle lives on like the bright North Star. He will always twinkle, as his eyes always did, and his unique character (one in a million) made so many smile when in his fun company.

Hannah, I would like to tribute this poem to your Dearest Brother as I think there are quite a few characteristics in there that describe him well; his beat carries on within his family and all those who were lucky enough to have met him and got to know him.

God bless.

Charlie 
XX 


Dis Poetry  

BENJAMIN ZEPHANIAH

Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
It gets into me dreadlocks
It lingers around me head
Dis poetry goes wid me as I pedal me bike
I’ve tried Shakespeare, respect due dere
But did is de stuff I like.
Dis poetry is not afraid of going ina book
Still dis poetry need ears fe hear an eyes fe hav a look
Dis poetry is Verbal Riddim, no big words involved
An if I hav a problem de riddim gets it solved,
I’ve tried to be more romantic, it does nu good for me
So I tek a Reggae Riddim an build me poetry,
I could try be more personal
But you’ve heard it all before,
Pages of written words not needed
Brain has many words in store,
Yu could call dis poetry Dub Ranting
De tongue plays a beat
De body starts skanking,
Dis poetry is quick an childish
Dis poetry is fe de wise an foolish,
Anybody can do it fe free,
Dis poetry is fe yu an me,
Don’t stretch yu imagination
Dis poetry is fe de good of de Nation,
Chant,
In de morning
I chant
In de night
I chant
In de darkness
An under de spotlight,
I pass thru University
I pass thru Sociology
An den I got a dread degree
In Dreadfull Ghettology.
Dis poetry stays wid me when I run or walk
An when I am talking to meself in poetry I talk,
Dis poetry is wid me,
Below me an above,
Dis poetry’s from inside me
It goes to yu
WID LUV.