SHAL­IZA HAS­SANALI

Se­nior In­ves­tiga­tive Re­porter

shal­iza.has­sanali@guardian.co.tt

Grow­ing up in Laven­tille, Karene As­che knew what it was like to go hun­gry.

It was al­so nor­mal for her to hear gun­shots ring­ing out among ri­val gangs in her hotspot com­mu­ni­ty.

In her neigh­bour­hood, she had to re­sist peer pres­sure.

There were days when As­che had to stand up against jeal­ous stu­dents in her school.

De­spite her strug­gles, As­che emerged a suc­cess­ful ca­lyp­son­ian be­cause of sheer de­ter­mi­na­tion, stay­ing fo­cused and the sup­port and guid­ance of her moth­er, Car­ol Red­man.

Hav­ing won the 2011 Ca­lyp­so Monarch ti­tle which earned her the first prize of $2 mil­lion—the largest to be paid in the his­to­ry of the com­pe­ti­tion, As­che opened up to the Sun­day Guardian on Tues­day dur­ing an in­ter­view about her dif­fi­cult up­bring­ing and how she used her voice to chart her mu­si­cal ca­reer.

For As­che, the moth­er of a 16-year-old son, her life could have turned out dif­fer­ent­ly, giv­en the en­vi­ron­ment she lived in.

But she was adamant not to be swayed by the wrong crowd.

In­stead, she turned ad­ver­si­ty in­to pos­i­tiv­i­ty.

Last Sat­ur­day, As­che was se­lect­ed as one of 12 fi­nal­ists to take part in tonight’s Ca­lyp­so Monarch com­pe­ti­tion with her pow­er­ful ren­di­tion No Ex­cuse, which sends a mes­sage to the crim­i­nal el­e­ments that pover­ty is no ex­cuse to com­mit crimes.

The song was com­posed by Christophe Grant.

Among some of the top guns who will bat­tle As­che for the cov­et­ed crown are Machel Mon­tano, Kurt Allen and Mi­cal Te­ja.

In her song, As­che ref­er­enced Amer­i­can talk show host Oprah Win­frey who was born in­to pover­ty and abuse but was able to over­come her ob­sta­cles by be­com­ing one of Amer­i­ca’s most suc­cess­ful black women.

She al­so men­tioned Prime Min­is­ter Dr Kei­th Row­ley who at­tend­ed school in To­ba­go with­out shoes, but to­day holds one of the high­est of­fices in the land.

“It was not nec­es­sar­i­ly to show that I am prais­ing the Prime Min­is­ter, that’s not it. It’s just to show that this per­son came out of a dif­fi­cult sit­u­a­tion and look where he is to­day, rul­ing an en­tire na­tion.”

As­che en­dured many chal­lenges grow­ing up but did not turn to crime as an easy way out.

“I my­self had hun­gry days and I nev­er turned to crime. There were times I would go the whole day with­out food. My mom used to tell me to pray.”

When her hunger pangs in­ten­si­fied, As­che re­mem­bered drink­ing wa­ter or eat­ing a morsel of por­ridge to sus­tain her­self.

Liv­ing through those ex­pe­ri­ences, As­che said, showed her the mean­ing of sac­ri­fice and made her a bet­ter per­son.

Don’t blame crim­i­nal­i­ty on pover­ty

As­che said crim­i­nals have been blam­ing pover­ty for their ac­tions when they could do bet­ter with their lives. She ad­vised them to get an ed­u­ca­tion and find a job. If they are not aca­d­e­m­i­cal­ly in­clined, they can pur­sue a trade or pro­gramme to up­lift them­selves and be pro­duc­tive.

“They (crim­i­nals) be­lieve they are en­ti­tled to what is yours. There is no way you should think that some­body owes you some­thing. I would al­ways main­tain that pover­ty is no ex­cuse for crime. It was so touch­ing to sing a song be­cause I know what hard­ship is. I grew up in it, lived it and came out of it. I am liv­ing tes­ti­mo­ny of this song.”

At the age of 11, As­che’s mu­si­cal tal­ent was dis­cov­ered while at­tend­ing Rose Hill Pri­ma­ry School which, years af­ter her time, grabbed head­lines in 2021 for the rapid gun­fire it faced with war­ring gangs in the dis­trict.

In 1996, she was en­cour­aged to par­tic­i­pate in the Na­tion­al Women’s Ac­tion Com­mit­tee ca­lyp­so com­pe­ti­tion which she won, tak­ing home the first prize of $20,000. That same year she al­so cap­tured the 12-and-Un­der tal­ent show and placed sec­ond in the Ju­nior Ca­lyp­so Monarch con­test in the age group 11 to 15.

The sec­ond to last child in her fam­i­ly of five, As­che used her win­nings to turn her life around and opened two busi­ness­es in Laven­tille which em­ploys peo­ple with­in the com­mu­ni­ty.

“At one point in time, I was the bread­win­ner in the fam­i­ly,” she ad­mit­ted.

Her moth­er worked tem­po­rary jobs while her fa­ther did not play an ac­tive role in her life.

How­ev­er, when he was around, she said, “He would love and sup­port me.”

With­in the con­fines of her Pic­cadil­ly Street home, As­che said, hear­ing gun­shots was not un­usu­al.

“That is the way the ghet­to is.”

While at­tend­ing Bel­mont Ju­nior Sec­ondary School, she had to stand up to stu­dents who were jeal­ous of her tal­ent as a singer.

A hold­er of five CXC pass­es, As­che said she al­ways took her moth­er’s ad­vice to nev­er give up re­gard­less of what life throws at you.

“My moth­er al­ways told me that all things are pos­si­ble through prayers. I prayed and worked hard and God opened up doors for me. The dif­fi­cul­ties and strug­gles I faced have made me a re­silient per­son.”

Dur­ing her child­hood and teenage years, As­che said, she was taught not to en­vy peo­ple’s things “be­cause you don’t know how hard they worked for it”.

As­che said greed has been push­ing crim­i­nals down the wrong path.

“The ones who do these things (rob­beries) have a place to sleep. They get meals. Their men­tal­i­ty is that you owe them some­thing be­cause you have.”

Some moth­ers, she said, al­so con­done their son’s il­le­gal lifestyle and en­joy the ill-got­ten gains.

“It’s time to open your eyes and talk to your sons,” she ad­vised moth­ers who should know bet­ter.

She said see­ing mur­ders plas­tered on the front pages of the dai­ly news­pa­pers has been nerve-er­ack­ing.

“It’s heart­break­ing,” the songstress said.