Benjamin Zephaniah, Birmingham Town Hall - review

Well, if anyone in Birmingham Town Hall was feeling bleak when they arrived, they certainly left full of optimism, hope and respect for Benjamin Zephaniah.

Having never heard the ‘people’s poet’ live before, it was truly astonishing to listen to the passion, the fire, the flow and, most importantly, the talent on stage.

He reads his poems as a Rastafarian Jamaican – it’s where his roots lie – but he is also one of the proudest Brummies you could ever hope to meet.

His upbringing in Birmingham, however, was far from straightforward and he recalled being asked by his primary school teacher - along with all his fellow pupils - to bring in his favourite Gollywog, and being named cricket captain despite not liking the sport, simply because of the colour of his skin.

Yet it was also while at school he first developed his love for poetry – because, instead of running after the girls playing kiss chase, he would recite one of his poems.

It wasn’t long before he was reciting his poems to large audiences – and a certain Mick Jagger came backstage once to say how much he loved his poem I Love Me Mudder.

It was at that stage Zephaniah pointed out his 84-year-old mother in the town hall audience, who duly received a standing ovation.

Family clearly means a lot to the poet, which was clear when he recalled sitting in the front room watching TV with his siblings.

But even aged eight, the strange goings-on in society were already starting to wrack his brain, which became clear when he read his poem Miss World, which was based around how he would feel if his own sister was up on stage being paraded around like all the women he drooled over.

London was where he really blossomed during the late 70s and early 80s, a time when protests were happening on a weekly basis.

It could be anything from trying to free Nelson Mandela – who would become a personal friend of Zephaniah because the South African leader read his poems while in prison – to fighting the National Front or the police’s stop and search policy.

Politics were never off topic, with the self-proclaimed anarchist saying: "When children are dying of diarrhoea, when people have to walk miles to get water, when women are still dying needlessly in child birth, you have to question how far we have come.”

And that brought us beautifully to his poem, Us and Them, which looks at how the media tries to divide cultures and communities when, in reality, everyone gets along just fine.

He delivered the poem like a rapper, spitting his lyrics while jumping around on the stage – again with more of that fire and brimstone.

The fire didn’t die either when he delved into the Windrush scandal, which hit him particularly hard as his mother came to England from the West Indies – and he recalled how he knew of people suffering from such injustices and being deported as far back as 1993.

He then moved on to the Extradition Squad – a unit set up specifically to find and deport so-called migrants – and the tragic death of Joy Gardner in custody.

He spoke with anger as he recalled how one of the officers involved felt ‘relieved’ when charges were not pressed after her death. “But the community did not feel the same way,” he explained.

His feeling were summed up when he recited his superb poem, The Death of Joy Gardner.

Aside from the serious nature of politics, racism and police brutality, there were plenty of lighter notes, particularly when Zephaniah touched on the crazy world of US presidents, paying particular homage to George W Bush and all his infamous faux pas, or ‘Bushisms’ as he put it (does ‘the French not having a word for entrepreneur’ ring any bells?).

Zephaniah also believes the politics of the people is pretty similar, it’s just how we’re brainwashed that divides us, as he aptly put in his next poem, Wrong Radio Station, which looked into how our beliefs are shaped by the information we’re fed.

The delivery of his speeches and poems were remarkable, whether it was Vegan Delight, or discussing how children in schools should be flown out to different countries to experience a variety of cultures when they are little.

How would that be funded? Simply by stopping the bombing of other countries and investing all that money into education.

There was still time for a question and answer session, where Zephaniah spoke in depth about how travelling had shaped his life, why poetry can lift people’s spirits, the reason he delivers his poems in a reggae-infused style, why it’s important to ‘meditate and communicate’, and, finally, why it’s important to invite a turkey into your house at Christmas, which was prompted by an 11-year-old’s lovely question and led to him reciting, off the cuff, his poem Talking Turkey.

The audience had all that to take in, and that was without Zephaniah touching on his fascinating upbringing and background, which is all covered in his superb autobiography, The Life and Rhymes.

I’d be surprised if anyone left Birmingham Town Hall without a spring in their step and plenty of food for thought after his home-coming performance.

Professor Zephaniah is simply a wonderful poet spreading a message we should all listen to carefully.