Twenty-three-year-old Tanya Gomes says she hasn’t changed one bit since her entry into the Miss TT Universe contest back in 2001. She was then part of the 11 delegates that sought to represent us at the Miss Universe pageant in Puerto Rico. But for many onlookers that night, Gomes was certainly unforgettable.

She represented the Woodbrook area, but was born in St James, “the city that never sleeps”, she claims proudly. “What happened was I represented the community that I worked in at the time,” she explained. “I’m on the entertainment committee at Island People on Tragarete Road, which is plenty, plenty work, but I enjoy it.” She resides in Belmont with her parents, brothers and sisters. Her mother runs a small shop in the area, and it’s not uncommon to see the young Gomes helping out from time to time. Recalling her pageant experience, she cites her mother as the “instigator”; had it not been for mom, TT would never have gotten to know her. “My mother said she would put me out if I didn’t go up!” Gomes laughed uproariously. “The thing is, Mummy was flipping through the paper and saw the ad and said, ‘Let us enter.’ I was like, ‘Us? What? There’s an us here?’ Then she said she would put me out of the house if I didn’t do it…I knew she had to be joking! I mean, oh gorm, she carried me for nine months and thing… but I realised it was her dream, really.

“She wanted to enter a competition herself when she was younger, but at that point in time she couldn’t do that, so I guess she saw it in me to possibly bring home the crown. (Mom was so upset that I didn’t make the final six, she walked out of the show and spent the rest of the evening at the poolside). But instead I brought home more attitude than ever! (Laughs) So you could say I did it for her, but I also did it for myself  too because I realised that I could actually learn something, even though I went into it kinda ‘lablash’.” Lablash or not, Gomes was selected from 123 hopefuls and got to parade before the country in a gown designed by Claudia Pegus. Incidentally, the gown has since been bought by a visitor to the island of Mustique, where it was on show. “I only heard about it the other day,” she said, happily. “I remember Claudia was telling me that for somebody to fit into it, they would have to be like a pin. Right now my weight is good at just 107 pounds, I’m trying not to cross 110.”

If you think that being a former pageant contestant has jaded her, think again. Gomes has made it a point of “keeping it real”, not changing her naturally boisterous and loquacious personality to suit anyone. Even in her youth as a primary school pupil at Mucurapo Girls RC to Belmont Junior Secondary and Corpus Christi College, Gomes sensed she was different.  “After college I decided I didn’t like school anymore. (Laughs) You had to go through that school phase to get your education, and when you do exams, you’re supposed to be done. I just wasn’t in a rush to go back to school, I’m not really a book person per se.

“I’m more of a funny, outrageous, adventurous and loud person… everything that does not consist of beauty queen material. (More laughter) I would have been the most boisterous, rebellious and miserable beauty queen ever… but I would be unique. “Being a beauty queen is hard work and maintenance and in true spirit, I can’t change for anyone, really. You see, pageants tend to change you, with all the adjustments you have to make; I’d probably do all the don’ts instead of the dos. “But it was an education, as I had the opportunity to learn from the best in the business, like Allyson Brown, who was our choreographer and Adrian Raymond, our delegate development co-ordinator. Really, they are two of the most challenging and intelligent persons you will ever come across.”

She may be out of the limelight in terms of competitions, but her face has been popping up here and there. Gomes was featured in the Peter C Lewis’ video for “Tay Lay Lay” a couple of years ago and she graced a Malta Carib billboard as well. However, she doesn’t miss the spotlight. When asked what she would do if she had the opportunity to enter another pageant, her answer was firm. “I don’t think so. Beauty pageants are not for me. Being a beauty queen takes a lot of discipline and patience… and taking a lot of b…s… and I don’t have patience for b…s… I won’t say it’s a pretensive business, because remember, you only have that title for a certain amount of time and people will remember you as ‘Miss x-y-z’, but then, what happens after? I did the show proving that I can do it and finish it, comparing it to military training. People remember me as I am, here, now. I even got a few marriage proposals along the way, but that’s not me. I would want someone who is romantic and can sweep me off my feet.

“Having a crown on my head to prove I’m beautiful and that yes, I’m going to represent Trinidad and Tobago and I’ll probably make it, is not for me. I can’t do it like that. If I had won, I’d probably be able to relate to it. I didn’t even place in the final six, so I don’t even know what that feels like. But being picked out of 123 alone made me feel damn good about myself. But I’m not beauty queen material. I’ll model, I’ll do ads and so, but I won’t go down that road again. I want to be able to dress ‘down’ in a pair of jeans and chill.”

At the moment, Gomes is busy working with her best friend on their new production company called Dice Entertainment Productions (Their slogan is “We’re on a Roll”). Their company is all about putting on events: they do the planning, co-ordinating, PR, advertising, selection of venues and more, taking the stress off the client. Within the next five to ten years she hopes that the company will have grown to full strength. Already, they have done two events in St Lucia, looking at a regional base, as the local market is already saturated. They worked with two Miami-based promoters (in St Lucia) in October and December last year; first with hip-hop artistes from Bad Boy entertainment and with Khia (My Neck, My Back) in December.

For the month of April they will return to St Lucia for another gig,  then to Antigua. For the summer they plan an international fashion show, featuring both local and international fashion designers, including ENYCE. Plans are to also have representatives from the New York-based Urban City Magazine, to cover the show. All in all, Gomes leads a pretty busy life. She did confess that there is someone special that she is close to and she would love to have at least three children someday. Still, she’s thankful for her pageant experience, because it taught her one thing in particular. “That I am already important,” she said with a grin. “I don’t regret the training and it’s something I learned a lot from and can carry from day to day. Even the little things, like learning to walk a little straighter (even though I still have my ‘boyish’ mentality). Plus in this life, you can’t be fussy, fussy every day. I have my days when I dress like a total scrub. When people see me in town, they’re shocked. “Some days it’s no make-up, the hair ain’t combed, the jeans ‘dutty’ and my mouth open big, big. You can’t really silence me, that’s how I am. I must tell everybody around me how I feel, but it’s all said with love.”

Imagine nine-year-old Follette Eustace jumping up in a Carnival section which he designed and made on the streets of Tunapuna 40 years ago. He would go to the fabric stores in his hometown and purchase corduroy, feathers and other decorations for the traditional Red Indian costumes popular at the time. That was for Kiddies Carnival. To his delight, he walked away with a few first prizes. The prizes ranged from torchlights to “icy-hots”. That was the beginning of his road to success.

When we sat down for an interview at his camp in Trincity, he found some difficulty in recalling the dates of his previous wins. The year 2003, however, will forever remain etched in his memory. No costume designer has ever pulled off wins in both North and South zones King and Queen of the Bands. Add to that male and female Individual of the Year titles. His North zone Queen, played by Alana Ward, copped a hat-trick winning in 2001 with the portrayal “It’s All In The Game”, 2002 with “Dance De Butterfly” and 2003 “Fire In D’ Sky”. It was also the first time that a mother and son, Wendy and Aaron Kalicharan, won South King and Queen of the Bands in the same year. They portrayed “Native Warrior” and “Native Dancer”, respectively. “Ah have to feel good. I’m excited,” he said. He’s taking a rest now because “I’ve been thinking mas, up and down everyday. Later on I might have a celebration party, a drink up.” He neither drinks nor smokes, by the way. Already, he’s sketched out designs for Carnival in the Cayman Islands. Later this month he’ll tackle designs for Antigua followed by designs for Nottinghill Carnival in August. Follette got roped into the mas- making business from boyhood. His mind wandered back to the early 50s when all he could remember as he walked around the family home were Carnival costumes strewn everywhere.

His eldest brother Norris was responsible for that. He designed costumes for masmen Harold Saldenha, George Bailey and Steven Lee Heung and it was practically a family affair as Norris got all seven boys, including Tedder, involved. At age 15, his mother died and a few years later so did his father. So his sisters, all five of them shared in the responsibilities of raising a household. Follette worked with Norris on individual costumes, cutting and sticking, applying decorations until he graduated to King of Carnival. “Cock Fight”, played by Tedder, was their first win in 1975. “It was the first time anyone ever saw movement in a costume” with the motion of two cocks as though literally engaged in a fight, he said. When Norris passed away in 1981, the two brothers took over the reins. In 1985, Follette attained his first victory with “The Big Fisherman”, again played by Tedder. “Victory was good. During this time I also designed for bandleaders Irvin Mc Williams and Neville Aming,” Follette said. He also produced bands for St Maarten Carnivals numbering 200-300 masqueraders. In 1989, his King and Queen of Carnival won in St Maarten. He also had wins at Crop Over in Barbados, Labour Day in New York and in the Cayman Islands.

At home, he garnered wins with Queen Tessa John’s “Light of the World” of 1993, as well as King titles “The Matador” of 1997, “This is We Carnival” of 1998, “The Rough Rider” of 2000, “Jab Molassie” of 2002 and “D Sky is D Limit” of 2003 all portrayed by nephew Curtis Eustace. The titles for the costumes, he said, are developed around the main theme of the bands. With “D Rough Rider”, he said, “I tried to depict the power of a lion, to give a masculine kind of finish.” But his smile gave it away. He added: “I was also thinking about the condom too.” But the designs were the tricky part. “A costume design don’t come just so. Sometimes you’re sleeping in your bed and 2 o’clock in the morning, you jump out with an idea.”

Without hesitation he picks up his pen and paper, or brush marker, and starts to draw. “Some might take hours, some weeks to design. You make a lot of changes before you put down a final drawing,” he said. “This year Alana wanted to play in red and there was a section called fireworks so I worked with that theme.” After preliminary sketches and application of colour his team of ten goes to work. His wife, Raina, (which means queen, so named by her brothers after a queen from a literature book) also gets involved. “She’s the cook in the camp. She would cook for everybody and for those coming in late in the night she would prepare sandwiches for them.” The two have been married for 22 years, with no children — no heir to his dynasty. He described Raina as “my main support. She’s the first one to see the sketches and would give her suggestions.” Most of which he takes heed. Then he goes in search of material, which was sourced in the US and Canada. “Prices here are expensive,” he said regrettably. However, he opted to “moving about in the cold (winter)” to beat costs.

Designing for each costume, he said, is done with impartiality. “I try to put out my best. I don’t hold out for any particular masquerader.” Of course, he designs with the judges in mind. He must conform to regulations such as colour and impact, mobility—the costume must be easy to carry, design, and two wheels. For Dimanche Gras, Follette had to hold back on the pyrotechnics for both the King and Queen since NCC chairman Kenny De Silva, a week earlier, ruled it out of Carnival events. “For the King we were going to use green fireworks. But pyros are just a few seconds and yuh $30,000 gone and sometimes you use it and it doesn’t even relate to the costume. It’s something, though, that I never liked. I find that that money you spend should be used towards better enhancing your costume,” said Follette.

He shrugged off criticisms that the portrayal “D Sky is D Limit” was common to that of others in years gone by. He said: “Everybody has their style and design of costumes. You’ll always get criticisms. I doh take them on because I understand why they do it.” However, he expressed “his” grouse. He said there was a need for assisting Kings and Queens over the ramp and onto the stage at Dimanche Gras. “NCC needs to brief the police and security properly so that they could provide us with proper identity and wouldn’t have to stop bandleaders, costume designers and masqueraders — the helpers when they offer assistance. The wrist band alone wouldn’t work.”

Maybe you’ve seen him in Maracas. He would be the dark-skinned, dreadlocked, lean fellow wearing colourful clothing and selling his works of art, tiny little panmen that wobble when you shake them.

His name is Isa (pronounced “eye-sah”) Contant, the eldest son of wire bender and pan-maker Andrew “Bambi” Contant of Woodbrook. His mother was also one of the first steelband women in St James, a product of Starlift. These tiny panmen were originally his father’s design, which began (strangely enough) as an ashtray. Now 43, the younger Contant has taken these pans to Africa, Ghana, Sri Lanka, Egypt, India, Europe, America and Germany, where he has been based for nearly 11 years. Why Germany, you wonder? “I made one visit to Tobago to sell some pans and met a German lady who refused to let me go,” he said, grinning. “I was 31 at the time and she was just 25, but she took me to Germany and that was it. We got married and had children, but I always come home for the Carnival season and to visit family too. But one thing I could say is that these pans have afforded me some wonderful opportunities. I even got to see Australia.”

He’s in Glencoe for the time being until his next trip abroad, but said that he’s been keeping busy with his craft. Besides making the tiny panmen, he and his father have been crafting mini-pans (that you can actually play) since 1955. “Since I small I know my father bending wire and playing pan,” Contant said. (His father has been involved with mas as the main wire bender for designers Stephen and Elsie Lee Heung.) “These panmen were from an earlier design of his, you know, as ashtrays. I could remember when I was about six or seven years old and going to St Crispin School in Woodbrook my friends and I would be hunting for bits of metal and things, then I would carry what I found for my father to make the ashtrays with them. My dad gave us (him and his brothers) the start and we started to make them ourselves, and as I got older I started to work with my father, making the figures and mini pans too.”

Contant would eventually leave Diego Martin Jr Sec at 13, abandoning home, school and his first girlfriend, all in the same day. He began growing his dreadlocks and moved to Powder Magazine. To survive, he did a little shoe making, continued to work with his father and learned to “plant garden”. “Man, I coulda take barren land and make it fertile, yes!” he bragged, smiling broadly. And then the panmen evolved. “Now my father designed these panmen in the early 80’s but the bodies were straight,” he explained. “They had a spine going through the back to keep it stiff. One day Daddy accidentally cut the spine and see the thing start to move like it dancing… he come running to me and bawling, ‘Aaaaay, look! De man beating! De panman beating!’ That was the last day we put in the spine.”

The tiny panmen have become so popular now that it’s not uncommon to see them in souvenir shops throughout the country, and at his own store Finders Keepers, located at the corner of Pole Carew and Brabant Streets in Woodbrook. At the store he also sells island wear, original hand-painted sarongs from Bali (yes, he’s been there too), the five gallon mini pans and other craft items. It takes Contant an hour and a half to craft a mini pan from a five gallon paint can and on a good day, he can make 36 of the wobbly panmen, in under 14 hours, using birdcage wire, a soldering iron and years of skill. His technique is so fine-tuned that during the interview, his hands were moving swiftly, putting another one together.

He sells them in bulk, 24 pans per order. He’s been so lucky with them, he even sold out on the day of the attempted coup back in 1990. “Boy, I always give people this joke,” he said. “I had made an order of 24 for a client in the People’s Mall, but when I carried them for him, he liming and drinking and telling me to come back Monday. So I got vex, I was like, ‘Man, how you could tell me come back Monday and all during the week you telling me to bring them Friday and I have people to pay?’ The man get vex and tell me he ‘eh want nutten again’. I just watch him and say, ‘Man, you go lose more than that.’ “By the time I reach down Queen Street, it was only to see looters running in the mall, ready to take things. I hearing people saying how Abu Bakr had taken over. You would believe I was able to sell out them pans before seven o’clock the night? And to people who in taxis, who was trying to run away, like they tell theyself let them get something as a souvenir… I there moving fast, bawling ‘Panman again, Panman again!’ And I sold them out.’

“I’ve sold them in Germany too, even though I have to give them an education about pan and Trinidad each time. But they appreciate it as a good piece of wire art. And now that I put the extra springs at the sides  as pen holders, they like them even more.” Always the perfectionist, he maintains high standards in his workmanship and says that he and his father make the best pans. “I’ve seen other mass-produced mini pans and they look ugly to me, man. When you see ours, you know someone took their time to bring them to that stage. That is what you call care. That is how a craftsman works.” He leaves for Germany in late March, but if you want to get your hands on a few wobbly panmen, call him at 632-0623 or 763-4494.

Avion Johnson and Conrad Mookram grew up in the same neighbourhood in the 1940s; they lived opposite each other as a matter of fact. After developing a fondness for one another which burgeoned in childhood and lingered on in teenage years the two were separated.  While Conrad’s parents were fond of the beautiful fair-skinned girl of Spanish heritage, Avion’s parents didn’t feel the same about the dark-skinned “Indian” boy (often referring to him in derogatory terms) who showed interest in their daughter.

The Johnsons were well known and respected people of St Vincent Street in San Fernando. Avion’s mother was a social worker and her father a public servant. But it was evident that the two would fall in love. Avion’s three brothers and Conrad’s three brothers were all friends, they played football, cricket and other village games together. Avion was the lone girl. The first manifestation of a crush for Conrad, she remembered distinctly: “It was my 11th birthday and for the cake-cutting I remember adamantly wanting to cut the cake with him,” she said as she looked over to Conrad. She had never revealed this to him until our interview. She paused, reached over to him and kissed him on the cheek.

Conrad too, remembered the event quite vividly. She got her “cake-cutting” wish. The mutual attraction grew until they graduated to the point of organising cinema dates by way of signals from across the road. “We would stand in our yards and make signals to each other to meet down the road. My excuses were math and netball classes,” said Avion. When the two met “it was holding hands and walking. We used to go up to what was called Burrough House, a big dancehall or go to the movies.” However, her mother would soon find out. “The phone would ring and somebody would call and say Ms Johnson, your daughter down the road with…” In 1960 Avion won a pre-nursing scholarship for Bishop Anstey College. “I couldn’t wait to get down on weekends to see him (Conrad).”

Without their parents’ knowledge, they took long walks down to the San Fernando jetty. Ms Johnson’s resentment for Conrad was compounded when he and a friend showed up bald at Avion’s school dance. What was the result of a dare turned out to be a public disgrace. “Shaving your head bald was something looked down on and when my mother heard what Conrad had done she called the press. The next day’s headline was ‘San Fernando goes Yul Bryner”. Avion got the shock of her life the weekend she returned home on completion of her one-year scholarship. Without Avion’s knowing, her mother had booked her a one-way ticket to London with the main aim of separating the lovebirds. Avion related: “My mothers words were — ‘I’m sending you away from this  boy’. I was told this on the Friday…and my trip was booked for the Monday.” Avion’s obvious response: “I cried and cried for the next six months.”

Three years elapsed before they would meet. Avion became a nurse and Conrad worked as deck hand aboard the Norweigan oil tanker SS Roban. What Avion soon found out, letters later, was that the love-struck Conrad would pursue his childhood sweetheart to England. When Avion’s brother, Tony,  (who acted thereon as mediator), migrated to England sometime later Conrad made contact. He sailed the sea for three years mailing and receiving letters at each port. Between them they’ve racked up hundreds of letters — letters that kept the love alive. They still have all of them. “She wrote epistles,” Conrad laughed, “ten-page letters. I would read the same letter 20 times to keep me going. There were no distractions, only the big sea, and I used to sit down on deck and stare at the wide open. We called each other pals and I wrote about my visit to different countries, the poverty in Latin America and I would tease her and tell her I saw somebody beautiful.”

The day arrived when they would meet. By telegram, Conrad informed Avion that he would join her. Here’s what his visit entailed. When the ship docked in Europe he asked to be paid off. He taxied from Belgium to Rotterdam, Holland then to Norway. Next, he took a ferry to New Castle, England. From there he took a train to King’s Cross Train Station in England. “When I met her there it was pure, pure magic. Out of this world. Lots of tears were shed,” said Conrad. Conrad had left home under the pretext that he was visiting Tony, his old pal. Avion described their reunion as “strange, he looked strange to me. I was accustomed to seeing whites all around me.” Conrad secured accommodation in London very quickly and it was not long after that the man who sailed thousands of miles spending close to 26,000 hours at sea to see Avion, popped the question. Without hestitating the 20-year-old said “yes” to marrying Conrad, who was three years her senior. “I wrote my mom and told her of our plans and she said ‘I don’t want to know you. Don’t be in touch!’ ” Avion recalled as she broke down in tears.

In his heart, no one could change his mind, not even the disapproval of his soon-to-be-in-laws. “Tony’s approval was important and I knew he would approve,” said Conrad. On April 8, 1961 Avion became Mrs Conrad Mookram. “I bought the fabric and the nurses helped me to sew my dress. We couldn’t get married in the Lenten season. It wasn’t allowed then and so the priest gave us the earliest date. The first of five children was born a year later. “That’s when the ‘rejection’ set in. No mother or support around but ‘Con’ and I, our relationship grew stronger.” Her first visit back home, with all the children, “was unpleasant. The more she tried to reach out I pulled back. But then every Carnival I came back and I warmed up to her. She always used to make me laugh and that started again… In her heart I think she knew what she did was wrong.”

Eleven years ago Ms Johnson passed away. On her dying bed she asked for Avion’s forgiveness for her actions. “I stalled and then said yes.” The Mookrams, owners of a car audio and radio shop in England, now have grandchildren. (Conrad was the first black man to own a shop of that nature in Britain.) Looking back on their “somewhat unpleasant” experience “we tell our children don’t reject your children’s choices. The more you try to drive a wedge between them it’s the further you’re going to be away from them,” Conrad said. “I didn’t feel inferior (by Avion’s mother’s reaction to me). If you become over-sensitive about race you become a victim. I prospered in everything I did. Avion and I had our own world. It wasn’t about what they thought anymore. Apart from love, what kept us together was her 100 per cent support in anything I did.” It was the “best thing” he ever did, Conrad said — following Avion to London.

He quit his job one year ago as a music teacher at the Princes Town Junior Secondary School to pursue a bachelor degree in music, in pursuit of his dream to become a qualified musician and vocalist.

Having mastered instruments like the steelpan, piano, keyboard, and saxophone, Surendra Ramoutar, 27, now manages the Melody Stars orchestra. In the band, family members including his father — Joseph Ramoutar, two sisters — Vijayanti and Puja, and brother — Shammi Ramoutar all play various instruments. As well as doing weekly live shows in South and Central Trinidad, the talented family also provided music for Mastana Bahar’s 2002 season. From his teenage years Surendra began experimenting with the various sounds. He began playing the keyboards when he was only seven years old.

“I was always fascinated by the various sounds coming out of the high-tech instruments. The strings of the guitar, the beat of the drums, the melody that comes from the basurie (East Indian flute) — I find myself looking for something infinite. The sound that is created so magically. I knew I had to study music because there is a quest inside me to study the art and be able to master it,” the shy but brilliant musician said. At the Orange Field Hindu School which he attended, he was selected to play at many of the school’s functions. He later went to Carapichaima Junior and Senior Secondary School and was often called upon to perform at their functions as well. He won the “Best Vocalist” prize two consecutive years while in Form Five. He also took the prize for the Best Keyboardist at the Anchorage Pop Rock show back then. From those days Surendra started piling up his trophies at home and has over 60 awards collected through the years for his music.

As a teenager he mastered the piano at all levels from grade one to eight, theory and practical, under the tutorship of a renowned pianist, Gloria Barry at a British-based school in Couva. Barry admitted he was one of the brightest youngsters ever to pass through her school. Surendra gained national attention in 1994 when he won the Mastana Bahar finals for his rendition of “Dill SE Tujhko” on the saxophone and two synthesizers. He played all three instruments by himself much to the amazement of the packed audience at Gulf City Auditorium. “It’s a chain of thoughts in music. You have to get to one stage before you can get to the other. One cannot reach any great heights without studying the levels of music,” he said. “One starts thinking about that and the body and soul get deeply involved.” Surendra’s desire is to create and write music for local and international audiences hence his mission to be so qualified.

“I guess when you are a qualified musician only then you can take the music on the international stage. At least you can get the respect of producers and promoters from any country in the world,” he said. Surendra thanked his mother Seelochanie Ramoutar for her dedication to himself and his brothers and sisters. “My mother has always been there for us. Each day we can look forward to seeing her home. Cleaning and preparing for us. I guess this helped us to focus better. I am a success because of my mother’s encouragement,” he said. His father, who is a retired school teacher, also stood by them through the years, he said.

Christopher “Tambu” Herbert, once a former Carnival entertainer, has turned gospel singer for just about 10 years now. When asked recently, why he really left the band Roots upon his return from finishing a two-year scholarship with the Berkeley University in the USA he said: “If you dig up a grave, you get bones no flesh. That is all behind me now.”

However, he said the time had come for him to leave and though the major reason then was to study, he left with the intention to go back to Roots but Christ had a different plan for his life. “Sometimes a roadblock in life causes Man to go to Christ. I met that roadblock while abroad and my entrance was Christ,” he said. Tambu added: “When you are doing something and you know it’s wrong, you got to do something about it. The life of an entertainer is on the fast lane and you will always end up in a dead-end street. The man that is outside of Christ is on a dead-end street like I was but with the knowledge that I have come to know, I’ve learnt that Christ is the way, the light and the life.”

Asked if current entertainers were on a dead-end street he said: “Obviously if you are going the wrong way, and you know it’s the wrong way, you would not be walking in the light and the light is Christ.” He explained that the light is the coming in the knowledge of trust that is the pathway that God has destined for us. “He is not however going to be over them with a hammer to mash up their heads because they’re sinning, because Christ took care of the sin problem but the sinner has to go to Christ for Christ to take care of him now.  I was a top-dog sinner but in spite of that God love me and Christ didn’t come to judge me, He came to save me and what Christ did for me he will do the same for them but he wants them to come home,” said Tambu. So what are his thoughts on entertainer Roger George who many thought was singing gospelypso in 2003 and who himself said that he would never sing any suggestive songs, Tambu said: “The experience that Roger is having now is what I was going through when God pulled me, and God is pulling him now. His talent is not his own, he is just the custodian so don’t care how talented an entertainer is, once God is not glorified, that talent is of no benefit to him.”

Tambu, an original member of the Manhattan Charlie’s Roots in the late seventies, played trombone and was also their lead singer. He went on to become a three-time Road March champion from 1988 to 1990 with the songs “This Party Is It”, “Free Up” and “No, No, We Ain’t Going Home” and was also one of the early Young Kings. Asked about his close relationship with deceased Roots member Junior Wharwood whom he spent a considerable amount of time with he said: “Junior and I had a wonderful relationship but a man has to decide for himself what he wants from life because I can’t save anybody. “The only one to do so is Jesus. I want people to know that Christ died for the world and therefore he died for the sinner too. So God is not about judgment, God is about love and Christ died so that they can come back to God.” Tambu said that people must come to know and realise the truth and despite men who have all kinds of big plans and ideas, he said if those ideas aren’t given to them by Jesus their plans will come to zero. 

Given his beliefs now he was asked if there should be no Carnival to which he replied: “Colonial Life and the Newsday are two organisations with different work ethics and policies, which govern the running of their institutions and dictates the behaviour of workers. So too there are two different  kingdoms of this world.” Tambu left the Police Service in 2001 after some 29 years and for the past two years, he has been teaching music at Curepe Junior Secondary School. He is very settled in his marriage to Gail and always answers “Blessings!” when his telephone rings. The proud father of seven continues to take a special delight in singing his gospel songs at churches and various gospel concerts and insisted on ending the interview by stating: “There will come a time when the only thing that will be able to stand is the Christ in the man. No flesh will be able to stand up against the perils of the earth and that just speaks of the natural man. In spite of what men may say or what they do, God will always be God and Jesus Christ will always be what He says He is, the Son of God! And is up to me and you to believe or not to believe. Whichever way, God will be God and Jesus will be Lord. They can’t change.”