My brother died after a brief illness, shortly after celebrating his 63rd birthday. He lived each of those 63 years to the fullest. It has come as a bit of shock but we are deeply touched by the words of comfort and condolences from the public to his passing.
This story begins in Black Rock, in the parish of St Michael, Barbados, with a small child, orphaned aged 6 and being adopted by a family in Port of Spain, Trinidad. That child was Rhoda Reid, who later after, marriage to Edison Foncette, set up home in the village of La Brea. It was our grandmother Rhoda, who on observing her young grandson attempting to play the family’s piano, first recognized and nurtured a precocious talent. It was she who employed his first music teacher, Miss Plowden. From such humble beginnings grew the man who became a musical genius and cultural icon.
After taking his common entrance exams, Raf attended St Benedict’s College. He played in the college band and though a bright student, his teachers lamented the fact that his focus was not on his schoolwork but his music. They never understood that it wasn’t simply a case of him choosing music over his studies but that music chose him. It is a sad; some might even say unenlightened society, which views music as purely an extra-circular activity and a hindrance to getting a real education.
Frustrated, Raf parted company with school and set off on his own musical quest. It took him from La Brea to Port of Spain, throughout the Caribbean, North America, the Middle East, Europe, Africa, Asia and finally back to Trinidad again.
It was a musical journey, with many highs and lows, and the realisation that this country didn’t recognise nor appreciate the talent that it had. But he was never disheartened and though he was highly critical of the treatment of our indigenous music and musicians, he dearly loved this country.
My brother was a deeply spiritual person, music was his religion, for him death was not the final destination, he always said that he was merely passing through. I have been truly amazed by the outpouring of grief and the public displays of loss at Raf’s passing. I know that I’m not the only one who has lost a dearly beloved brother. Raf was an amazing raconteur; he led an extremely colourful life there are hundreds, of stories I can tell about him but sadly none that I can share with you today.
I learnt a great many things from my brother,
I learnt to love unconditionally,
I learnt to choose my friends wisely,
I learnt to never take things personally,
And most importantly of all,
I learnt never to expect him to return any of the CDs he burrowed from me!
He was generous person; the compound security where he lived told me about the way he treated them. When he walked out to get his morning paper, he would always return with doubles and cups of coffee for them. They were very much touched by his kindness.
From an early age I idolised and looked up to my brother. He looked out for me. My brother was a musical genius and it is for his musical talent, that he is known and will be remembered. But it wasn’t his music that inspired me.
It was his approach to life.He lived his life uncompromisingly, on his own terms, in spite of societal conventions as to what a good or a bad person should be.He was absolutely single-minded in that regard;
Be who you are and not what society or others want you to be, and there is where you find happiness.
Raf will be dearly missed; he should be celebrated not mourned.
