THE Lisa Hanna story, only now for the first time to flow from this uncertain pen, does not promise to be easy to script or to unravel for the casual onlooker. The mischievous twinkle behind those bewitching eyes, the broad, fleeting, if enchanting smile and the enduring beauty that she swears is a blessing but still not yet a curse, belie her stupendous rise from St Mary girl to beauty queen of the world.

But then the precipitous descent into the dark place of divorce and trauma, a painful, public child custody battle and a mystery that might never be solved, before the final triumph of a woman Jamaicans love to love.

Do you ask, dear reader, who is this Lisa Hanna that we should be mindful of? Ask if you will but be prepared never to find a truly satisfying answer. For this Lisa Rene Hanna gives so little hint of the child who was rejected by the elder Hanna clan because she was born to a Black-Chinese mother. And if her personality reflects the steady, unruffled, focused flow of the river, it is only because she grew up by a St Mary river that witnessed the early innocence and might better reveal her true nature if only it had tongues to tell.

On the cusp of 40-years-old – when life is just only supposed to begin for a woman – Lisa Hanna can share life-changing experiences that many much older members of her gender might never be able to fathom. Most of all, she learnt about her Jamaican people and it is a knowledge that has kept her balanced and sure-footed, even amidst the raging political and other storms that she would traverse because fate had somehow commanded it.

Not for the faint-hearted

“The Miss Jamaica World stage was at times a harrowing experience. It was then that I understood that Jamaican people like you or they don’t like you. And they will tell you whether or not you are fit to be in a situation,” Hanna recalls about one of the momentous events that would shape her public persona forever. “There were the Miss Jamaica connoisseurs. The elimination shows were not for the faint-hearted. You had to have a lot of courage to walk that stage…”

And too, she recalls vividly the harsh lesson she had learnt the year after her Miss World victory, when immediately after relinquishing the crown to the new queen in London, she was promptly, unfeelingly taken out of the spotlight for it now belonged to another…And the deep reservoirs of resolve that the moment demanded, which thankfully she had, to not fall entirely to pieces.

But if the beauty pageant stage was harrowing, it might only have been prophetic preparation, obviously not yet known to the young Miss Hanna, for the time to come when she would climb onto the ultimate stage – the political hustings – when those same Jamaicans who had clamoured passionately for her would separate into hostile tribal clans and when the only question now was which side of the political divide are you on.

The slings and arrows that come with the office of minister of youth and culture are at one and the same time the rewards and burdens of political success. They fling the accusation at her that she was merely annointed to be candidate for Foggy Mullings’ South Eastern St Ann constituency by People’s National Party (PNP) Leader Portia Simpson Miller and was spared the agony of the political trenches that most aspirants must endure. But she has legions too of admirers who swear by her own acumen and believe with their own certainty that Lisa Hanna is more, much more than just a pretty face.

Come now, beloved reader and take this stroll with me by the river in Retreat, St Mary and let us follow this intriguing story as it meanders from beginnings on an eventful August morning in 1975.

…And a river runs through it

Hanna was born at the University Hospital of the West Indies. It was August 20 and the 8 o’clock news was on. Her dad, Rene Hanna recorded it in his diary which she would read upon his passing. As her place of birth they wrote on her birth certificate Retreat, St Mary, the eastern parish from which her dad farmed the land, raised pigs and cows, grew bananas and dabbled in real estate. Her mother Dorothy Hanna, nee Hosang, operated a hair salon in St Ann’s Bay, the capital of the neighbouring parish of St Ann and commuted daily to and from Retreat. Their home was by that river whose quiet gurgles and ever-widening ripples would fascinate the child they had so lovingly brought into this world.

Lisa remembers some of those early days; of community members taking her for walks; of feeling protected by them, a distinct feature of a rapidly disappearing Jamaica; of happy times with her sister Ella Hanna, now Smith who lives in Florida with her husband.

“The community influenced me a great deal. I grew up to love the animals, to appreciate the sense of belonging to the earth and being very comfortable around Jamaicaness and the Jamaican people; of eating off of a fire. I was stimulated by the simplicity,” she recalls. “We did not have a lot. People think the name Hanna meant I came from wealth. We were a typical middle class family.”

The Hannas moved to Kingston and Lisa was enrolled at the Immaculate Preparatory School. She recalls leaving Immaculate Prep to live in Kansas City in the United States. Her dad’s brother had started a business there and asked him to come and help. She went with him and stayed for a year. But she started to miss home and the rest of the family, so her dad sent her back to Jamaica. After Common Entrance Exams in 1986, she went to the Queens School, recounting the eventful years there in which she blossomed as a student counsellor; house captain; games captain and eventually headgirl.

Rapping and Enter the Dojo

Mrs Hanna who served as president of the school’s Parent-Teachers Asociation later got Lisa involved in volunteerism, starting with the Jamaican Movement for the Advancement of Literacy (JAMAL), now the Jamaican Foundation for Lifelong Learning (JFLL). She also got her active little girl into karate, in fact from age 10.

It was at Queens that Lisa began the heady journey to the bright lights and flashing cameras when she joined a popular teen television programme called ‘Rapping’, produced at the time by the Creative Production and Training Centre (CPTC). She was co-host with the likes of Yvonne Chin, Paula Ann Porter, Tracey Hastings, Peter Glegg and Denise Fitzgerald under the Master of Fine Art himself, Wycliffe Bennett of blessed memory.

“Rapping was about highlighting what schools were doing and we were auditioned and trained in voice and speech. I recall memorising scripts with Mr Bennett. We went across the country with Rapping, highlighting what the high schols were doing; doing rap sessions on current issues and events, usually with a top entertainer performing in a 30-minute magazine package.

Hanna also starred in a Seido programme with Errol Lyn called ‘Enter the Dojo’

on Jamaica Broadcasting Corporation (JBC) Television, now Television Jamaica. Reflecting on those days, Hanna believes every woman should have some training in self-defence.

“True karatekas don’t walk around trying to pick a fight with people,” she says. “But they have confidence and they develop a sixth sense for danger so they don’t walk into it. Of course, you have to do it for the art form or you don’t get the benefits, such as the breathing, the rejuvenation when you can get in a sparring match with someone and overcome; and can take a punch and get up and give it right back. You learn to be resilient. Size does not matter, it is the strategy, speed and timing.”

A chance meeting with a beautiful woman

By the time Hanna left Queens, she had become an activist for several causes, most notably, the spearheading of the Candle Light Vigil that dramatised the Jamaica launch of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child. Queens was also memorable for the friends she made there, people like Keisha Mobhair; Kareen Richards; Wendy Dwyer; Tanya Williams; Kita Wright; Anthea Gooden and Shauna Henry. Teachers who stood out for her included Mrs Aitken; Mrs Bolt; Mrs Bond and Mrs DaCosta.

It is normal after sixth form to look next to tertiary education. But when others of her class of 1993 were registering for college, Lisa Hanna’s attention was turned to events that would change her life in ways she could not have imagined. And it began in the most unexpected way and with a chance meeting with a beautiful woman in Manor Park, St Andrew. What would follow now was not the innocent script that the vivacious teenager was writing for herself. But one that could only have been conceived in a time and place well beyond her youthful imagination.

Wednesday: Blazing a path to head-turning glory