The audience who attended Paul Keens-Douglas’ Ent That Nice at the Central Bank Auditorium on October 12 found themselves reminiscing about the days when the Trinidad-born raconteur told stories that made them laugh. Whether they heard his voice on radio or TV, on vinyl or cassette, or perhaps memorised one of his many dialect poems for TTT’s Twelve and Under or Teen Talent, Keens-Douglas’ work left a significant mark on their lives.
At 83, Keens-Douglas’ voice still carried its familiar cadence, warmth, and endearment, welcoming everyone to listen to what he had to say. “We are just one big Trinidad family coming together,” he said at the start of his storytelling. Those days of Tanti Merle, Vibert, and different aspects of Caribbean life allowed us to laugh heartily at ourselves once again, just as we did in childhood or early adulthood. “Paul Keens-Douglas saw us in a good way. The values and traditions were important,” said Avion Crooks, who played Tanti Merle at the show.
After 50 years of introducing Trinidad and Tobago, and by extension the Caribbean, to Tim Tim, Keens-Douglas reminded us of the value of sharing stories created and shaped by us. “You can’t call Paul a comedian. He is a dialect poet and storyteller. He could make you laugh. He could make you think,” said poet Miguel Browne, who also paid tribute to his mentor on stage.
Tim Tim is a French patois term that comes from a storytelling tradition, said Keens-Douglas. Much like the familiar openings “once upon a time” or “Crick Crack,” Tim Tim signalled that a story was about to begin. And as Tim Tim, Keens-Douglas has had many to tell over the past five decades.
His first performance as Tim Tim was in 1975 at the Little Carib Theatre in Woodbrook, where Invaders, the neighbourhood steelband, competed with storytellers for the audience’s attention. It was there that the Grande Dame herself, Beryl McBurnie, ensured everyone had a seat—even if it meant a rocking chair.
Fast forward to the Central Bank Auditorium in 2025: this time, the audience didn’t have to worry about finding a seat. The spotlight shone on Keens-Douglas and the stool upon which he sat (or rather, gently leaned), with a large screen behind him displaying images from his past. These included a portrait of his father with saxophone, Jamaica’s beloved Louise Bennett, and a cheeky illustration by the late Dunstan E Williams (DEW), known for his wit and social commentary in Trinidad Guardian cartoons.
Keens-Douglas opened with the poem that first introduced him to the world of storytelling, When Moon Shines—a vivid onomatopoeic depiction of nightlife and the beauty of the countryside. He then performed My Daddy, a tribute to his father that stirred emotion among those who felt the same way about their own. This poem was particularly popular among young performers when it was first published, many of whom recited it on local talent stages.
He followed with The Pamper Crowd, offering the perspective of a storyteller performing before a very young audience. This flowed into The Christening of Timothy Tobias Timultaneous and the misadventures of his godfather, as well as Rufus, the 97-year-old who insisted on being dipped in the baptismal font like the infants.
Midway through the first half, Keens-Douglas paid tribute to Bennett, the late Jamaican storyteller and folklorist who inspired him to embrace dialect. Bennett, he said, was the first person he heard speaking in dialect on stage, and she insisted on preserving the practice of presenting poetry, folk songs, and stories in Jamaican patois—establishing the validity of local languages for literary expression.
Keens-Douglas also honoured the national instrument with Pan Rap, which traced its origins with the catchy refrain “Oh yeah!” In Carnival is Marse, he asked, “You ever walk by yourself in a costume where nobody knows what you are?”—a question that takes on new irony today. While he may have felt embarrassed in his Mary Poppins costume when playing with Edmund Hart, today’s masqueraders might not feel the same about their own modern designs.
Vibert and Tanti Merle were not left out of the evening’s repertoire. In the second half, the audience turned their attention to the mischievous Vibert, who had a majestic string bank collection for his kite-flying feats. Of course, the night could not end without Tanti Merle, whom Keens-Douglas saved for last. The scene of Tanti Merle’s umbrella popping up and down in the midst of spectators who ran onto the cricket pitch after a match between Trinidad and the Combined Islands at Queen’s Park Oval remains unforgettable.
In comparison to the vast volumes he has produced, 13 poems for Ent That Nice were sufficient. Crooks and Browne also performed five poems, expanding the evening’s repertoire to 18.
As Tanti Merle, Crooks revealed the secret to her longevity: “Vicks!” she declared. As the elder, she vouched for Keens-Douglas, praising him as her “best nephew.” In her performances of Keens-Douglas’ Dark Night People and Jumbie Story, she offered a dichotomy between the eerie richness of T&T folklore and the humour of a man sleeping in a coffin.
Browne gave a heartfelt performance of Black Man Look for Your God from Keens-Douglas’ 1979 collection Tell Me Again. The poem, Browne said, was meant to be performed for Keens-Douglas during a scheduled visit to the St Augustine campus that was later cancelled. But in 1987, Browne met him at UWI Extra-Mural, where he attended Keens-Douglas’ Functions of Oral Tradition course. He soon became his mentee. (It was there that Keens-Douglas also met another mentee—now well-known orator Deborah Jean-Baptiste-Samuel—who was in the Central Bank audience.)
Since then, Browne has performed with his mentor at Talk Tent, the post-Carnival showcase for the oral tradition. On this stage, Browne also presented two of Keens-Douglas’ more reflective works, De Dry Bones and Tell Me Again. “The creole tongue is not confined to laughter—it is poignant for serious things,” Browne reminded the audience.
The evening would not have been complete without music, courtesy of saxophonist Tony Paul and vocalist Candice Alcantara. Both artistes complemented the pleasure of Keens-Douglas’ dialect poetry with melodies that deepened the warmth of the night’s storytelling.
