More Knowledge

There is something about being in a room full of books by revolutionaries and leaders of movements of liberation. There is a revolutionary spirit and it awakens you to the work you need to do.

I like to write, but what can I write if I am not continually learning and evolving? Right now I am reading one of my newest books Bakunin: The Philosophy of Freedom by Brian Morris. Dr. Huey P. Newton wrote in Revolutionary Suicide that we can learn to liberate ours

elves as the African people by studying the way other oppressed people have liberated themselves in their respective countries and adapt those strategies to our circumstances. . Maybe the past has the answers, and we have access to that information. Now, if only we can get in formation and all decide to do something about it. See you soon! 

Focus On: Black Love

I will never give up on love, the hope of that conquest energizes me with a new high that shatters my equilibria and turns my world topsy-turvy with the possibility this might the one. I have always believed I will find true love, mainly and honestly, because I’m not that picky. 

    I have always, since I reached puberty, been slutshamed for my enthusiasm at finding love. It is not that I was particularly sexual, if anything I was the aloof Black nerd with my head stuck in a book, not in someone’s crotch. But, if I was attracted to someone, I would obsess and analyze and hope. The boy next door. The youth pastor in church. The guy who walks his Lab in the park at 6pm every day. The barista at Starbucks studying at university with those irresistible eyes and that sad smile. The landlord. That heroic single dad. Your 40 something professor with the motorcycle and disheveled jeans. The guy on Plenty of Fish with a strong, charming game. 

  I am focusing solely on Black love, on finding a Black man in the same naïve way I have loved and hoped for love. Because it really shouldn’t be that complicated. There should be no harsher criticisms, no down low police checks, no double standards. If anything, if a Black man is up and coming and not quite there yet, with you by his side, what a powerful testament to the strength of Black love if you both persevered together. And vice versa. I’m tired of dipping my hands in the vanilla and butterscotch cookie jar, because it’s not satisfying me. I want a dark chocolate cookie. 

  And, Black man, I’m not perfect. You’re not perfect. But we have potential, untapped potential, for greatness that will never be realized or come to fruition if we are hostile towards each other and do not do the work to have dialogue and trust with each other. Black man, I’m proud of you because I know what you have been through and I see what you are capable of. I’m working on respecting you, on loving you. I say with great conviction, there is none more natural than a Black woman for a Black man. I won’t stop until I find you.

Inside Out

To dream of Black liberation is to dream a fantasy. Even if we, our children or our children’s children one day taste sweet, carefree liberated life–we must always have a revolutionary spirit. There is much work to do, on a micro level and internationally to free the African people from oppression, from white supremacy and capitalism, from genocide, exploitation, slavery in the Motherland and in prisons, and from racism. Dismantling the system won’t happen overnight.

  And we mustn’t waste time. In order for emancipation, we must organize and preach like freedom is the Gospel. We must wake up our brothers and sisters in the ghetto; we must wake up our brothers and sisters unknowingly on the oppressor’s side doing the oppressor’s work and oppressing their own people! Our views must be militant. Our lives must be Afrocentric and resistant to white domination. We never know who we might inspire when we are proud to be African. We must never bow down, accept an inferior role or allow ourselves to accept discrimination and racist behaviour. We must vocalize and we must be courageous. It is by awakening the masses of angry, Black people that change will occur. It is a change that begins on the inside and changes the world around us, every village, city and nation. 

Nation Building

Today, after a morning in town, where I received scornful glances for wearing a Nigerian cloth headscarf, I dreamt of moving to Africa and being surrounded by dark, African people. I daydreamed about blending in with my sisters at the market, of dancing to the drumbeat and watching my son play soccer with the boys–children who looked just like him. 

  But, repatriation is not that simple for many Africans in the Diaspora. Especially, as a single mom in Canada, I’d be trading one oppression for another! I live in a town that is 95% White, which keeps me very aware of the unyielding white supremacist attitudes towards Black people on a daily, constant basis. But this awareness is not a negative thing. If you do not like where you are living, then make it great! 

   Canada has great potential for nation-building and connecting with the Motherland without making a dramatic decision like repatriation. I have visited the West Indies, US, England and France and I do like living in Canada. I am afraid of ladybugs, I don’t think I’d do well with flying cockroaches and geckoes. 

   But as a Canadian who is aware and empowered of my link to the Motherland and the connection to other Africans in the Diaspora, I know that we have a unique advantage in Canada to nation build, unite and conquer. We do not face civil unrest and economic struggles like in Africa, or violent racism South of our border in america. Black Canadians have education, opportunity and the added benefit of having the most diverse city in the world (Toronto). 

  I am trying my best to funnel my money towards African owned businesses, and Black businesses that are interested in solutions towards Black liberation by starting funds or charities, by creating art  or literature, etc. Some Canadians are way ahead of me

  But, on a smaller scale, we can be the change we wish to see in our community. In my predominantly white community, I have created a reputation for myself as an unapologetically African wombman. I may not be particularly liked or welcomed, but the community sees me and I particularly go out of my way to connect with the small Black community. If a small, white town can emphasize African unification; so can the main cities like Ottawa, Vancouver and Montreal. We nation build by uniting, despite our differences, so we may come out of bondage and start a new era where across the whole world, the African people can be empowered and be free from oppression. 

Where Is Our Defiant Spirit?

   Immediately upon learning about Queen K, my mind went to Assata Shakur. And in this Feministing article drawing a parallel between the great Shakur and our resistance soldier Korryn Gaines, it really begs the question: are we willing to do what is necessary for Black liberation? Are we ready If Shakur was in the States, she’s be dead or locked up again. For fighting for her right to live while Black. For resisting white Supremacy.

   I’ll admit, things are not as scary in Canada as they are in the States. I’ve never felt any physical threat while being Black, although the oppression and racism is palpable. It is still mild and polite compared to the US. And firearms are illegal in Canada, as well. But we must pick up our proverbial firearms nonetheless because look at the conditions we are live in. Nothing has changed for the masses, even though I see young Black men in BMWs and Black families in detached houses in the suburbs. We still do not own  businesses, we are not in control of our communities and organizations and we are not organized. Therefore, we cannot dismantle white domination in Canada. And we are still targeted for the jail cells and the needle.

   Teaching our children their history, our story is important. If anything, it is imminent at this point. We are relatively safe in Canada, but as long as Black flesh continues to grow cold at the hands of white supremacist America, or another Black child starves in Brazil, or a flood wipes out a portion of Nigeria, we cannot accept that it’s all good. There is a fight to be fought whether we are on the front lines like Korryn Gaines, or whether you’re sitting comfortable in a condo with a rooftop terrace, we all must be fearless and defiant until we are no longer oppressed. And the end of Black oppression comes with a price. That price just may be blood.

Sweet & Docile, Meek & Humble… Right?

A Martyr, A Warrior

  ”

Our blood reeks of royalty” Korryn Gaines

   I do not know why Queen K has touched me so profoundly. It is my birthday and I ask myself, why do some get to live another year while others have to rot in the dirt, six feet under? Maybe it’s because I am a mom of a little boy. Maybe it’s because I see her strength. She is a warrior, she is young, Black and proud.  I shed tears last night. I  read as much of her words as I could possibly found before it was deleted or obscured, I resonated with her.

  I have been angry, dismal and bitter. I know so many people in the conscious community feel the same way. We are tired. We are weary. I am tired and weary. I’m sick of this and I returned to my regular life here in Canada after hearing about Trayvon, Sandra, Michael. I swallowed the hurt and continued on because bills have to be paid and life goes on.

  But wait. Korryn Gaines is looking a little too much like me. This is hitting too close to home. This could be you. This could be me. And life can’t go on as it did previously, just hoping some day that the hatred and murder of Black flesh will magically cease. It won’t. And we, Black folks and all comrades, cannot take reactionary measures. We must organize. We must do something.

   Queen K has been murdered for resisting the White Supremacist powers and she is nothing short of a revolutionary, a martyr and a warrior. If I go down, I hope to go down like her. I’m not going to pretend racism isn’t a systematic problem. I’m going to fight it. Perhaps not with a shotgun, but symbolically yes, it is time we fight back. It is time we get up and do something. Our army must rise.

Fighting Goliath

  Today I heard famed evangelist Nathan Morris preach about Moses and slavery, about David and Goliath, and this fine, handsome young man might have been sparking revival for the church I was visiting but I was thinking about taking my people out of bondage, of slaying the mighty Goliath which are our oppressors–a capitalist, White supremacist world-dominating behemoth. And us, the Darker Races of the world, with our humble yet fierce hope for liberation.

   Around the conscious Black community, it is often argued that Christianity was brought to Africa by these evil white devils from Europe who sought to steal our bodies and land, and control our minds with their pure White Messiah. But regardless of whether you want to now shun Christianity and praise African gods and goddesses, the Bible holds many stories that can give us hope in fighting our enemy. Because I am not going to sit back and be subservient to White domination and expect that of my children and grandchildren. Like Moses said unto Pharoah: Let. My. People. Go. If we were to fight, us oppressed people against our oppressors, like David fought Goliath and his four brothers… wouldn’t this all-seeing God, the Alpha and Omega, not help his people? Wouldn’t he allow that giant to fall?

   What is the destiny of the Afrikan race, God? It must be freedom. And if there is no God, and this world is a godless, heathen place then either way karma points in one direction. It must be freedom.