zimbabwe

i've been meaning to write about the predictable, yet nevertheless unbelievably shocking situation in Zimbabwe, but words have failed me. i never thought i'd see the day that a country that paved the road to liberation of this continent would be drowning in the very oppression they fought so hard against. yes, we saw this coming, really. Mugabe lost his damn mind years ago and the warning signs were everywhere. but i never thought it would get to this point.

i suppose, like Bob Marley said so long ago, we eventually find out who the true revolutionaries are. the oppressors have different faces, but the situation is essentially, for all intents and purposes, the same.

Every man gotta right to decide his own destiny,
And in this judgement there is no partiality.
So arm in arms, with arms, we'll fight this little struggle,
'Cause that's the only way we can overcome our little trouble.

Brother, you're right, you're right,
You're right, you're right, you're so right!
We gon' fight (we gon' fight), we'll have to fight (we gon' fight),
We gonna fight (we gon' fight), fight for our rights!

Natty Dread it in-a (Zimbabwe);
Set it up in (Zimbabwe);
Mash it up-a in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate (Zimbabwe), yeah.

No more internal power struggle;
We come together to overcome the little trouble.
Soon we'll find out who is the real revolutionary,
'Cause I don't want my people to be contrary.

And, brother, you're right, you're right,
You're right, you're right, you're so right!
We'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight), we gonna fight (we gon' fight)
We'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight), fighting for our rights!

Mash it up in-a (Zimbabwe);
Natty trash it in-a (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
I'n'I a-liberate Zimbabwe.

(Brother, you're right,) you're right,
You're right, you're right, you're so right!
We gon' fight (we gon' fight), we'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight),
We gonna fight (we gon' fight), fighting for our rights!

To divide and rule could only tear us apart;
In everyman chest, mm - there beats a heart.
So soon we'll find out who is the real revolutionaries;
And I don't want my people to be tricked by mercenaries.

Brother, you're right, you're right,
You're right, you're right, you're so right!
We'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight), we gonna fight (we gon' fight),
We'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight), fighting for our rights!

Natty trash it in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Mash it up in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Set it up in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Natty dub it in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe).

Set it up in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Every man got a right to decide his own destiny.

zimbabwe

finally!

Vogue Italia's "Black Issue", July 2008

it's a shame that it's taken this long, really, and who knows whether or not this will set any type of precedent in the oh-so-fickle world of fashion. but it's something!

full story here....

finally!

brother (watching)...comments

so, over on the original chronicles, i've gotten a couple of comments regarding the video i posted yesterday. i thought i'd post them here because it's something i truly feel strongly about. Richard A: Sorry Negrita but I see this video as more of the same thing,"Look what you have done to me whitey. This is wrong. Look into the world history books and you will see the Jews were persecuted and still are because they are Jews. The Irish back in the early part of the last century when they migrated to the US in Boston were treated like dirt, skum. Yes there has been unfair treatment of Blacks through the world by whites, it has only been a handful of greedy paranoid suppressive individuals, but also take a look in your own back yard and what happened 13 years ago in Rwanda. NO, it is not the rich Jew or the Whitey who is doing anything to the Black man. Take a look at my country, USA, a black man is running for the presidency of the US, and is being supported by millions of whiteys, and I am proud to say I am one of them. No, by supporting this fool Chad and perpetuating the insanity of division of race all you are doing is keeping it alive and putting money in his pocket. I am not a racist nor do I support any type of division of race, I wasn`t RAISED that way. All behavior is learned, you are not born into this life hating another because they look differant. I married a woman from the African continent and have a beautiful daughter and am so proud of her and myself for having the guts to say no to the bigots of this world who would say I am wrong to mix race. I am honored to say I have a friend in Kigali, a different race, and skin color, but I feel the honor and privilege is mine. negrita: thanks for your comment, Richard, but--with all due respect--your reaction is slightly knee-jerk. i take offense to you referring to this artist as a 'fool', but i attribute your reaction to the fact that you have misunderstood the message. whether you've chosen willfully to misunderstand, i don't know. perhaps it was the words 'White man' that made you think this song has anything to do with blaming anyone for...anything. but you're not listening. you've just taken the images before you and decided that you automatically know what this man is talking about. but...you're not listening. as with any music, you have to listen...re-listen...analyze, before reaching a conclusion. and i'm afraid you've jumped to swiftly to a conclusion that does not at all reflect the message behind this video. Shad mentions 'White man' only in the context of saying how he knows what it is like to grow up as an 'other' and to constantly compare oneself to the majority and attempt to emulate a life that is not actually your own. racism exists in numerous forms, sometimes incredibly subtle ones that nevertheless have a profound impact on anyone growing up as an 'other'. prejudice is not an evil that is solely perpetuated by, as you said 'a handful of greedy paranoid suppressive individuals'. it is everywhere. indeed, in our own backyards, as you noted. it is crucial that you recognize all of this as a truth, even though you were blessed to be raised in an atmosphere that condemned divisive thoughts and actions. the words of this song are words of caution to young Black people warning them not to fall into stereotypical perceptions of what they're SUPPOSED to be and encouraging us to reach as high and as far as we can. this is not about the White man holding us down. this is about the dangers of holding ourselves and each other back. this is about taking responsibility and NOT playing the blame game. the reason i tuned into this song and identified with it so much is because, like myself, Shadrach Kabango is an African--a Rwandan and Kenyan--who grew up in Canada, and therefore witnessed firsthand what it is like for young Black people to attempt to construct an identity for themselves that does not fall into what is generally expected...that does not follow a pre-conceived notion of what being Black is. i cannot make any assumptions about your personal situation--i know not how you grew up and how you were raised. but i do know what it's like to live this and how much young people--especially young Black people--need words such as these to give them the impetus to chose their own direction and to make their way in this world that is rife with obstacles. this is a song that recognizes these obstacles and weaknesses and that promotes taking action. this is a song calling on his fellow brothers and sisters to emancipate themselves from mental slavery; to fight against being pigeonholed. as you said, i--of all people--know all too well the horrific impact of divisive propaganda and politics. and therefore, i would never post or support anything that played into that. ergo, i ask only that you listen without prejudice to hear what this song is truly about. as a Caucasian male raising a biracial daughter, this is a struggle you should recognize as being all too real. the reality is that we do still live in a world where race/ethnicity/religion do matter. this song is just part of my story, and the story of many others. and we all need to listen to each other's stories. please listen to this story, again. i hope you hear it for what it truly is. Brother (Watching)--by Shadrach Kabango I try to hold some hope in my heart For these African youths Coming up where i'm from Many traps to elude. Surrounded by Mostly white and affluent dudes And somehow, you expected to have Mastered this smooth Swagger and move With the right walk, the right talk Fashion and crews Souls subtly attacked and abused And what's funny's being black wasn't cool Where i'm from til suddenly you started hearing rap in the school Hallways Admist this madness I grew With knack for amusing through this little skill For rappin at dudes An' we all like to laugh at the truth But when you young and same facts Pertain to who you rappin em to Well, I opted not to bring That to the booth But after a while, it sort of starts naggin at you The crazed infatuation with blackness That trash that gets viewed And the fact that the tube only showed blacks Actin the fool. And I was watching... (saturated with negative images and a limited range of Possibilities is strange...) And its sad cuz that naturally do Sort of condition your mind and over time That's whats attractive to you So young blacks don't see themselves in Scholastic pursuits Or the more practical routes Its makin tracks or its hoops Or God-forbid movin packs for the loot Even with this music we so limited - its rap or produce And that narrow conception of whats black isn't true Of course, still we feel forced to adapt to this view Like theres something that youre havin to prove Now add that to the slew Of justification the capitalists use For the new blaxploitation Many actions excused In the name of getting cash That's adversely impactin our youth With mental slavery, the shackles is loose And its hard to cut chains when they attached at the roots So what the new black activists do For our freedom is just being them Do what you're passionate to Not confined by a sense that you have to disprove Any stereotypes, so-called facts to refute Or match any image of blackness They've established as true Perhaps we'll break thru the glass ceilings Shatter the roof and emerge From these boxes that they have us in cooped And grow to smash the mould that they casted of you I'll keep watching...

blaz: well i know i for one could have used this growing up.... i wouldn't have been such damaged goods!!! the yout (h) don't realize what strength and security they have in their numbers, and globalization/digitization, do they? two kudos is hardly even enough.. does that make us African Homesteaders?.....hahahahaha..... annie, go on in tha house and git ma gun, now...... now what'd you say yer name was, feller?......(hic)

Richard A: Well put Negrita, after reading your comment and his lyrics all the way through it is I who am the fool. I was hasty in my conclusion as I had only listened to the first ten lines. And yes when i heard the words white I automatically assumed something, very shallow on my part, not ok. I pride myself on being a good listener, I guess I have a lot to learn. I do now apologize to you for my abrupt foolishness, and to Mr Chad for my lack of affinity for an artist. I have listened to and read the words and have now a new understanding of just what this man is trying to convey to young Blacks coming up and trying to find their own road. Thank you.

brother (watching)...comments

brother (watching)

the truth.

"brother (watching)" by Shad.

brother (watching)

still struggling

today, we're having a memorial service for some of our family members who were killed in 1994. we're having a service in a church in kigali within which hundreds of people were massacred. in which hundreds of women were brutally subjected to sexual torture. these people ran to these churches seeking sanctuary. they truly believed that within those walls, no harm could come to them. but the person they ran to for help...the person they trusted the most--the parish priest--is the very one who led them to their brutal end. it is for this very reason that i stopped going to church in the first place...that i struggled for a long while to hang on to some semblance of faith in the aftermath of what was essentially hell on earth.

i am going today, not only to pay my respects, but to offer support to those family members who survived and who--for a reason i will never understand--continue to attend this church regularly and faithfully. but i still struggle with the whole notion. i have more anger in me than those who witnessed and survived. how is that possible? how can they draw strength from the very same church? how can they still believe after what happened to them, to their husbands, fathers, sisters, mothers, wives...?

on days like this, it's hard not to ask these questions...hard not to get gripped with fear for our future.there is so much i cannot understand. all i do know that we have so much to do to overcome....

the struggle continues.

still struggling

on this day...

...14 years later...we remember the past and pray for the future.we honour those we lost by

listening to...

remembering with...

building for...

investing in...

educating...

and empowering...

the generations that will give us the hope upon which our tommorrows will be built.

the story:

...never again...

on this day...

i have so much things to say right now, but words escape me.
in this time of transition, i dwell mainly in my head listing, sorting, questioning, seeking...and i often think that maybe if i could get it out of my head and onto a surface...in black and white, the answers will come. but then i sit...and tap my fingers in time with the blinking cursor because...words escape me, right now.

*20 minutes of screen-staring later…*

but that's ok. i am in the process of removing the clutter from my life. it's just identifying the clutter that's the problem. especially when it comes to the people in my world….

*? minutes of screen-staring later…*

Open Letter to AnOldFriend*:

dear you,
you, of all people, know that once one is in my sphere, and has my love, it's very hard for me to decide they are no longer worthy of it. of my time. of my energy. of me. because there was a time when they once were, so...i could not have been that wrong about them, could i...? you know this about me because so many times you have told me to cut people off...to let them go because they are not worthy...because they constantly hurt me. and i listened to you, somewhat, never quite being able to cut anyone off. i just distanced myself for a time, and--inevitably--let them back in because they needed me, and i considered myself a terrible person for not being there when they needed someone, and had no one else. you would claim that i was far too nice, far too forgiving, and was letting people walk all over me. and it was true, in a sense. but i justified it by claiming that while i was there for them, i no longer needed them in my life, so they could never hurt me again.
just the other day, i once again found myself wondering why i had someone in my life whose presence is, simply, toxic. someone who cannot see beyond themselves and therefore can never see how much pain they cause. someone who accepts love, but clearly does not know what it means to give it. someone for whom reciprocity, courtesy, and consideration are the most foreign of concepts. someone whom i love fiercely, but find myself wondering if there is anything to like about them, anymore. or...if there ever was. and it breaks my heart to admit that that someone is you. and so, i have to take the advice you gave me long ago, and let you go. you probably won’t notice it for a long while, and i admit it is rather cowardly of me to write this in a space where i know you’ll never read it. but i knew if i sent this to you…if i said any of this to you, you would not hear me. you would never understand. and i’m okay with that, now. but i had to get it down to clear the clutter in my head and heart…and, in the process, to find my words again..
love always.

*note: AnOldFriend represents a composite of characters, not an individual.
ok. i feel much lighter now that i’ve sent that out into the universe.

moving on...

trippin

scattered thoughtlets from random locales whilst on the way home for the holidays:

21/12/07
01:06pm--Sao Tome and Principe

to get from Sao Tome and Principe to Kigali is a ridiculously long three (sometimes 5) day trip. I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure I can get to new york faster than I get to the other side of the continent. I'm not complaining though, because I'm fully prepared. the ipod and the laptop are fully charged cuz I know that it's going to be all about the long and dreary waits. for example, right now I'm sitting in the departure lounge at the sao tome airport waiting for a flight that has been delayed by two hours. two. hours. of. nothingness. there's a bar, but i haven't eaten and I'd like to be able to board the plane without falling over. and so I'm sitting here listening to the dreamgirls soundtrack (shut up) and trying not to sing along. but, if nothing happens soon…I'm fixin to break into a rousing rendition of 'steppin to the bad side' right about now.

TWO HOURS LATER

de plane! de plane!!
man. they'd better not leave my suitcase behind. *narrows eyes at baggage truck*

22/12/07
10:00am (or so I thought)--Libreville

so to celebrate making it off the island, I decided not to chance random budget accommodations in this strange city, and check myself into a nice business hotel. uh-huh. I am now officially broke. it's insane how expensive this place is, but since I had no where else to go, and no one I know, I decided to stay here. I thought, ok, so it's pricey, at least the price comes with breakfast, wireless, and CNN International. so, I'll just splurge. also, yay for wireless! yeah, except? the wireless is THIRTEEN DOLLARS AN HOUR. the HELL? and the breakfast of juice, coffee, and one pancake was an additional 30 DOLLARS. so, I'm broke. too broke to afford the pretty pretty wireless. and I'm bored as hell waiting to leave this place and go to the airport.

and this is one of the less pricey hotels in this town where clean sheets are guaranteed and I get a free ride to the airport. but I can't ever stay here again. I just blew my hotel budget for my trip home and back, so next time…backpackers hostel it is. I'll just carry my own sheets.

on the news, French aid workers are standing trial in Chad for the kidnapping of 103 children. they were attempting to rescue them from a life of doom and misery by exporting them to France. they claim that these children were refugees. they also claim that they were acting according to international law. now, here's the thing, I studied international law. international human rights law, in particular, and i'm here to tell you: there's no such thing. not in isolation of domestic law, anyway. you can't march into a country, decided that people are being violated or neglected, and then spirit them away on your magic plane to the land of milk and honey. this is why people don't take human rights activists seriously. because of incidents like this. anyway, they decided to circumvent Chad's laws and take these Sudanese orphans away. but…the children are not Sudanese orphans. they're Chadian. and no doubt they have been barely living in awful conditions while the country's leaders continue to doggedly pursue conflict and evade any attempts at stabilization. but they belong to someone. they have parents. they have families. what kind of ridiculous arrogance does it take to just TAKE THEM AWAY. the parents claimed they were tricked, and did not know their children were being evacuated. they thought the NGO was just going to take care of them. and that's another thing, after the whole high-profile mess with Madonna last year, and the recent tabloid-fuel 'controversy' regarding Angelina Jolie' Ethiopian adoption, you would think these organizations—in order to be effective and actually reach their goals—would research local law and find away to help these children that does not involve endangering them, or themselves. but of course, this would mean they would have to respect the people and laws of this poor African state (which is necessary, even when you violently disagree with them), rather than swoop in from their pedestals of superiority and enact a rescue mission.

now that I'm an expatriate living in an incredibly impoverished country, working for an international NGO, I see how it's tempting to use whatever resources you have to FORCE change. I see how you can get caught up in your 'mission' and how you can feel powerless and desperate in the face of lack of democracy, and complete and utter disregard for rule of law. but…no matter how noble your mission is…no matter how many human rights instruments are out there upon which you can rely to back up your action…the fact remains, you can't just impose your way of thinking upon people and think you can get away with it. this incident with the French NGO stems from this neo-colonial, superior, condescending attitude of this need to rescue Africans from themselves, which sickens me. we don't need superheroes with big planes to take our children away to Europe. how the hell does that solve any problem, in the long run? why could they not create a safe-haven for these children where they were? how did they not think that it may be detrimental to these children to remove them—emotionally and mentally—from their families and communitie? I suppose more will come out as the trial progresses. but these are my immediate thoughts on the whole thing.

wait. does that clock say 11:30?? the hell?? i completely forgot about the time zone change. I'm going to be sooo late. ack!

01:13 pm

while stuck in traffic on the way to the airport, I realized that the biggest gift given to me by island life is incredible patience. after half an hour in traffic, realizing I was late to check-in, I still did not panic. if this had happened to me a couple of years ago, I would've been near tears out of pure frustration. also, the hotel bus driver took some back road and stopped to pick up his cousin or someone (who wreaked of alcohol already. at 12:30pm) which he totally would not have done if I was one of the white customers of the hotel, but I didn't get pissed. I was all 'ah, what can you do' and turned up the volume on the ipod to drown out the declarations and ramblings of drunk dude.

airport. ok. reason number 342 I hate travelling: the dehumanizing metal detector. oh, it's awful. I just went through the thing about ten times and I swear the woman was about to make me remove my bra and put it through. as if being forced to remove one's shoes isn't gross enough (thanks, shoe bomber guy!). i travel so much, and this happens each time. but I feel just as violated every time. just now the woman took the metal stick thingy and made me put my hands above my head and spread my legs. she barked each order like I was a damn criminal. fuck you, metal detector power-trippin people. and happy holidays!

this lounge is freezing and the duty free shops are tempting me with their shiny prettiness. i'll just keep looking at my hotel bill, though, to remind me that shiny pretty things are no longer available to me after such decadence.

23/12/07
04:08 am--Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

i can't sleep! wide, wide awake. can't wait. will be in Rwanda with the fam and the peeps in 8 more hours. woo hoo!!!

happy holidays, beautiful people!
n*

Currently listening : Make Sure They See My Face

By Kenna

trippin

leve-leve

there's a sao tomean term 'leve-leve' which, as i understand it, means 'chill'. it's not so much a term, as a way of life. slowwww, and chill (see previous entry re. three hour lunch breaks). this can be incrediby excruciatingly frustrating when attempting to get anything done on time. there are times, though, when this outlook is, in fact, the most inviting, most charming aspect of life here.

i'm now at the cafe where i sometimes like to work, and i woke up this morning still hungover from the funk i've been in for the past week or so. so i'm in about seven different kinds of mad mood. then all of a sudden, someone turns the music up, and the owner of the cafe starts dancing with a member of the portuguese airforce (yup) and this old woman who sells vegetables on the street, hears the music, and dances into the cafe rockin' two bags of carrots and getting DOWN. using the carrots as dancing props. awesome. then another woman walks in...frowns...then also starts dancing by herself. it's turned into a spontaneous dance fest at 10:30 in the morning.

so...ok, infuriating logistical problems aside, maybe sometimes, i really do love the kooky randomness that is this island.

...is it too early for a cocktail? don't look at me like that! i'm just going with the flow.

Currently listening : Di Korpu Ku Alma

By Lura

leve-leve

soooo funkdafied

today is SUCH a typical, funky monday. a monday of funk, if you will. i woke up listless and disoriented because i couldn't sleep til about 3am this morning due to ridiculous non-stop anxiety dreams. then i went to a meeting that never happened, and sat in front of my computer all day and wrote ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. a little window just popped up telling me the Microsoft Word is shutting down. Word is probably wondering why i've had it open all day and written nothing of substance, and has just decided to quit this b*tch and go on home. i'm with you, Word. i just want to go home and crawl into bed and wake up not feeling so funked up. it's just one of those 'bleh' days where no matter how hard i try to be all 'Secret' and visualize all kinds of good things, i keep delving back into a miserable state of blehness. but such is the monday funk. i just wish i hadn't been in this state of mind constantly since last monday. i have to force myself out it, somehow. but i'll do that tomorrow...when the forces of the funk aren't working against me.

oh! ipod just awesomely shuffled to monica's 'don't take it personal (just one of dem days)'!! haha. Word.

Currently listening : Don’t Take It Personal (Just One of Dem Days)

By Monica

soooo funkdafied

incoherent verbal incontinence part i

it's 6am and i've just been awoken by the LOUDEST.THUNDERSTORM.EVER.
this island doesn't play with it's tropical storms. i actually thought it was a bomb, at first and almost dove under the bed. then i attempted to recapture the sweetness of slumber, and was soon woken up by the RAIN FALLING ON MY HEAD, courtesy of my lovely leaking roof (of which i was unaware prior to the rainy season). anyway, point is...i am now wide awake at 6 on a sunday, and while there are many a subject dancing around in my head about which i can wax poetic, i just cannot seem to find the words.

sample topics include:
a) my nomadic existence--both a blessing and a curse. discuss.b) what do i want to be when i grow up? for real. for really reals, in fact.

c) should i be offended when i get a booty-text at 3 in the morning from someone random who has clearly exhausted options a, b, c, and possibly d and is now obviously just randily scrolling through their phone book?

d) have i accidentally overdosed on 'as i am'? already? possibly.

e) why are my stupid neighbors dumping their garbage outside my front gate when there's a GARBAGE BIN RIGHT THERE. idiots. i'm going to stand watch and verbally abuse the next person i see attempting to pull that stunt.
etc...

the rain has stopped, it is now perfectly still, and i feel as though even the sound of typing is disruptive. i'm now going to go ponder a) and b) and hope to get struck by some sort of brilliant 'a-ha moment'-type epiphany.

Currently listening : Bleeding Love

By Leona Lewis

incoherent verbal incontinence part i