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Tuesday, 27 July 2010

MUCH ADO ABOUT AGE!! My rant today is on age..so excuse my very direct methods, but the note tucks right into the meat of it!! :).

Beyond the talk, beyond the rhetoric, beyond what Nigerian societies will say (if you are Nigerian) beyond all social graces and bullsh&t, tell me your gut feeling about age..does it matter or not??

Here are a few illustrations to guide your thought processes..they are by no means a representative of the majority, just a select few that are known internationally (or can be googled) so their stories are true and not some made up fantasy no one can even verify :P

Ashton and Demi:
15 years difference she cant have kids naturally anymore..however they are married and even if we ignore her side of the story as she is the older and wiser person, what about ashton? he seems very very in love and has not cheated.. does age matter?


Harrison and Calista: 23 years difference, they annouced their upcoming marriage. Is Harrison in love because she is younger? Oh I forgot, she is not worthy to be loved because she cant bear children...(as some men responded to same question on my facebook page o, not my words1)


So lets move to other couples shall we..
The following age gap seems to be the perfect kind as the Nigerian men responding to my note on facebook clamoured for. Younger sexier woman who has some 'banging' in her. (No be my quote) and who can still bear children (also no be my quote).
Cheryl and Ashley: Super sexy woman and a man with more money than she can spend


They look the part of true love, plus Cheryl is younger than Ashley by 3 years and definitely can still bear children! So what happened na? Abi na because she no born..Okay next couple then

Tiger woods and wife:
Mrs Tiger is very beautiful, definitely the type of woman people like Tiger usually want (Blonde hair, blue eyed) plus she had children for him! Now Tiger woods has about 5 years in his wife. SO WHY DIDNT THE AGE GAP EQUAL TO A LONG LASTING MARRIAGE? Abi the years were too close? Oya proceed to next couple.

Mel Gibon and Oksana: Theirs seem to be the kind celebrated in the pages of Nigerian celeb magazines and blogs. You know the type, 'born in poverty Nigerian man, who suddenly made stupendous amount of money' prefer as well as 'born in povert Nigerian female teenager now a student in uni respectively; are hoping to hit before their 'best days' (26yrs tops) are gone' hope to 'trap'.. Harrison traded in his wife for a younger model. Oksana is sexy, and whats more she is young enough to have children.

Happy days! I guess some men belive they are only as old as the woman they 'bed. I cant argue with that...but then again..well sha. so what happened? Is a younger woman or older man the guarantee of a loving relationship??

I am helping out a friend of mine and would really be grateful to hear your take on this issue.

ORIGINAL UNEDITED VERSION FROM HORSES MOUTH:
Would men prefer to marry a younger woman? is it true? or is it just a myth. Are there reasons for that if it is true. Taking various factors into consideration social, biological, financial, companionship etc( the opinion poll can bring out more factors) factor in love( love is blind and in the realm of love age is just a number) but in reality what would be preferred.

The situation, the man is 35 years old, would he prefer to date and marry a 25 year old lady or a 34 year old lady assuming courtship will take 18 months before marriage.. put yourself in place of the man and make comments. Every situation in life is different and no two people are the same. Make fair assumptions and discuss.

This is an opinion poll mainly for the men and to understand what factors they take into consideration to make a decision. In am ideal world bla Bla bla…………. We don’t live in one .

This poll isto know how men tick and why.

Thanks in advance for your comments.

p.s: *You know who, no vex ooo, but you OWE me ooo:P!*


spill..

Sunday, 25 July 2010

Treating ASS and other acryonyms (read-latest slangs!)

For those who have been running their beaks calling this picture an ASS, well you may not have known that ASS is also called the African Wild Ass (Equus africanus). The species name for the African Wild Ass is sometimes given as asinus, but this usage is erroneous since the International Commission on Zoological Nomenclature has conserved the name Equus africanus in Opinion 2027. This was done to prevent the confusing situation of the phylogenetic ancestor being taxonomically included in its descendant.





Thus, if one species is recognized, its the correct scientific name is E. africanus asinus. Open ya ear and listen and learn o, the two subspecies recognized are the Nubian Wild Ass Equus africanus africanus (von Heuglin & Fitzinger, 1866),[2] and the Somali Wild Ass Equus africanus somaliensis.


As we are not very sure of Buffy's real name, nevermind, heritage we shall classify her in the general category :P

So now that you know, please, next time you want to type something, at least use the proper term, no dey dere dey dull! Anyways, Angelique Owolomo graciously published this on facebook which I have copied unto blogger.com for my eager students to learn street lingua.
Behold them:
1. LWKM - Laugh wan kill me
2. LWKMD - Laugh wan kill me die

3. MIDG - make i dey go
4. WGYL - we go yarn later
5. IGA - I gbadun am
6. ICS - I can't shout
7. DJM - Don't jealous me
8. WBDM - Who born d maga
9. UDC - U de craze
10. NUS - Na u sabi
11. WSU - who send u
12. OSABZ - over sabi
13. ITK - I too know
14. WDH - wetin dey happen
15. NDH - nutin dey happen
16. FMJ - free me jo
17. BBP - bad bele people
18. HUD - how u dey
19. WKP - waka pass
20. BBG - baby girl
21. KKL - Kokolette
22. MML - mamalette
23 GFF- Gbono fe le fe le (e.g., she GFF)
24. NTT - Na true talk
25. IKU - It koncain u?
26. NDM - no dull me
27. LGT - let's goo there
28. IFSA - I for slap am
29. IGDO - I go die o
30. YB - Yess boss
31. NLT - No long thing
32. 2GB - 2 gbaski (e.g., the song 2GB!)
33. CWJ - carry waka jorh
34. WBYO - wetin be your own
35. U2DW - U 2 dey worri
36. U2DV - U 2 dey vex
37. MKG - maka gini?
38. WSDP - who send dem papa
39. INS - I no send
40. INFS - I no fit shout
41. WWY - who wan yarn
42. NBST - no be small thing
43. NWO - na wah oooooo
44. NMA - no mind am
45. MIHW - make i hear word
46. NBL - no be lie
47. NB? - na beans?
48 wd - wetin dey
49. UNGKM - u no go kill me
50. o2s - omo 2 sexy
51. DDDD - dey dere dey dull.
So, no DDDD read, learn and use dem! MIDG, WGYL!

Thursday, 22 July 2010

Today's featured author is my own Baby sister with: MATHEMATICS FOR SHOPAHOLICS

This piece is written by my sister Mammoth and is dedicated to all those whose eyes are bigger than their tummies or wallets. Enjoy!!


MATHEMATICS FOR SHOPAHOLICS


Note...if an item used to be £250, now £100, you have not saved £150 but lost £100 if you never intended to buy it..but bought it anyway..

Buy one get one free at £49.99 ..the real price of the item is probably £24.99 each...

If a shop sign says up to 50% off...dont be cheesed off when you get inside and there are only reductions of 10-15%...the sign said 'up to'...

Lastly..beware of shops that are permanently on 'closing down sales'..they probably just have their prices up by whatever % reduction the sale sign says...

HAHA! Hope you enjoyed that..feel free to add ur own musings...... :-D
Tha Mammoth

Mena'a thoughts: Well you heard her so dont say I dont teach you nothing in here! :P

Sunday, 18 July 2010

Interesting story: SAD STORY TO GAIN FROM

A Couple has been married for 5 years now. They have a 2 year daughter. Like any couple they have their ups and downs, that's life.

One day just after they had a fight over their differences of opinion, the wife went shopping at the local mall, where she bumped into her ex-boyfriend from varsity. After a chit-chat, she discovered he was doing well for himself in business. They exchanged numbers. From that day on, they started talking daily over the phone. Plans were made to meet, but where, when?

That's when the ex-boyfriend came up with a plan that they should meet in Cape Town to spend a week together. The ex-boyfriend would organize everything; the plane tickets and a nice beach holiday resort for them to enjoy.

She would have to lie to her husband, saying she is going to a conference in Cape Town for a week. Her husband took her to the airport on Sunday evening. 2 hours later she was met in Cape Town by her ex-boyfriend who had arranged a very romantic evening with her. After the romantic evening they went back to the resort, made love without a condom, of course they have known each other for a very long time.

For the next 5 days they had a wonderful time jollying / quad biking, up the mountain in the cable car, swimming and sun bathing etc, wining and dining at the Capes top cafe's and restaurants, something she had rarely done with her husband.

They enjoyed everything money could buy, until she left on Saturday afternoon back to Johannesburg . They used different flights to avoid being seen together (you know people talk). She was waiting in the airport for her husband to fetch her, when she received a call from her ex-boyfriend, who told her he was HIV-positive and that it was not a co-incidence when they met at the mall.

The reason why he infected her with the disease was because he was jealous of the family she has and the beautiful woman she had become and the fact that he was financially successful but he is not happy because he knows that he is dying.

At that moment she just stood there and froze; thinking about what to do, as it was already too late to take anti-retroviral. She could lay a charge against him; it would only expose her for cheating on her husband.

That's when she took a taxi to her best friend's house. She told her friend everything that had happened and ask for advice. The friend advised her to come clean with her husband, tell the truth, she has just lost everything and has nothing more to lose. She then phoned her husband and explained every thing.

To my surprise, the husband collected his wife from her friend's house; he sat down with her and told her how much he loves her and reminded her of the vows he took at church and that it was a terrible mistake she has made, which unfortunately she has to pay for it with her life.

He told her that he is never going to leave her; he has forgiven her and will stick by her side no matter what happens.

Now she stays in another bedroom and he shares his bedroom with their daughter.

What is currently happening is, the wife is terribly sick and might die at anytime.

"The morale of the story is? As people, we tend to undermine those who love us for a moment's pleasure (we tend to take love for granted).

Thursday, 15 July 2010

30 Commandments to being d "perfect" husband INFS!

The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of the writers but based on extensive research and surveys.

1. Thou shall not be a SMALL BOI!!
2. Thou shall not be a long sturvs guy… all those I don’t really know what I want right now, I am not ready for a relationship, “its not you, its me”, I cant give you what you want…LONG TINGS PLEASE!!!! (let us know your P)
3. Thou shall not be giving us DEEP STURVS...stick to OLU MAINTAIN and DBANJ (all you talib kweli and mosdef lover...NOT WERKING)
4. Thou shall not wear “jumping jacks” trousers, Polo shirt, popping collar and sagging jeans, and then believe that you are kaking up. (NOT THAT TYPE OF TIN PLS!!!)
5. Thou shall not be popping Moet, holding bottles of Hennessy and or Courvoisier (you are a SMALL BOY!!!! Refer to commandment 1)
6. Thou shall not be wearing monogram outfits. Take note: Fendi belters and Gucci shoe wearers ( AGAIN REFER TO COMMANDMENT 1)
7. Thou shall not be asking what I am wearing in the middle of the night. If its hooking you like that, YOU CAN POP YOUR CHAMPAGNE!!
8. Thou shall not be asking me How far with my friend, “she’s ok innit though”
9. Thou shall not be pulling all those half and half bill type sturvs. Its cheap plus I don’t think your grand father will approve of that… traditions baby traditions.
10. Thou shall not be cracking dry jokes… ITS NOT FUNNY!!!
11. Thou shall not be forming RMK (Rich Men’s Kids) commandment 1 peoples commandment 1
12. Thou shall not use money as bait ( especially when you cannot put your money where your mouth is… and you might just end up being used)
13. Thou shall not be my navigator or stalker, its not very attractive (I am thinking desperado!)
14. Thou shall not live in CATFORD, CANNING TOWN especially THAMESMEAD ( LETS LEAVE YAHOOZEE FOR THE DANCE FLOOR)
15. Thou shall not tell me your whole life history (BORING!!!!)
16. Thou shall not be lying about your achievements… If you didn’t go to school, please say so!
17. Thou shall not be coming up to me and telling me “I am a rapper” (you seem ambitionless especially if you are a drop out!)…stuck to Business or Oil and Gas Engineering, that way we won’t have to worry about the sale of your albums.
18. Thou shall not be giving us American accent or South London sturvs…like “innit” and “shorty” (naff pls)
19. Thou shall not be telling me, “I have so many female friends” (we all know, you are sleeping with them)
20. Thou shall not be trying to prove that you are different from any other (who are we kidding? YOU ARE ALL THE SAME!!)
21. Thou shall not be speaking pigin English to me. (We know every girl wants a “real” guy but that’s pushing it mate!!)
22. Thou shall not be a “mummy’s boy”….its not cute! (REFER TO COMMANDMENT 1)
23. Thou shall not be a PANT wearer, stick to boxers or boxer briefs!!
24. Thou shall not have crusty hands and feet, manicures and pedicures are not restricted to the female race!
25. Thou shall not be a Michelin man, all you 24 hour gymers… Its not that attractive!!
26. Thou shall not have “big nyash” pls leave it for the ladies (ALL YOU RMD NYASH LOOKALIKES... TAKE NOTE)
27. Thou shall not have long finger nails… its simply disgusting!
28. Thou shall not be caught “shuffling your balls” in public…that’s just razz!
29. Thou shall not forget to introduce us to your families, especially the mothers and sisters… WE NEED TO GET IN THERE FULLY!!!!
30. Thou shall not break this last rule. If you do you are FINISHED!!! You have no hope even in hell. If you break this next commandment, there is no redemption. THOU SHALL NOT HAVE SMALL STURVVVVZ!! This one Viagra cannot help you out, you are doomed for life!!!!!!


My thoughts: *Caller busy, try again later*

30 commandment to being the perfect wifey : Naija rules of 'engagement' Part 1 :)

30 COMMANDMENTS: to being the “perfect” wifey for a Naija guy by The Amazing Lasses of Lee-ville


1. Thou shall NOT be a LONG TINS BABE (you know what I mean?)
2. Thou shall not lack in boobs, yansh and hips. If you must, please lack only one and find a way to make up for it.


3. Thou shall NOT be a down to earth, real or ride or die chick. I.e all those ruff, rugged and raw “tell it as it is” girls, NOT WERKING.
4. Thou shall not have dew hair (All those afro/afro-kinky “soul” sisters… FORGET IT).
5. Thou shall not be a non-church goer. Ladies, for extra credit, be an usher, Sunday school aunty or PRAYER WARRIOR (This applies to other religious sects)
6. Thou shall not go to club to find husband... YOU GO JONZ!!
7. Thou shall not drink hard liquor or beers. Stick to 2 glasses of wine, IF YOU MUST DRINK ALCHOHOL.
8. Thou shall not have un-manicured nails (It has to be French manicure acrylic nails).
9. Thou shall not have daddy issues (victims of divorced parents and dysfunctional families … keep it to yourselves).
10. Thou shall not go without makeup (i.e. caked foundation, studio fix but ensure that the make up has a natural look which is purple lip liner, pink lip gloss and chocolate/natural eye shadows)
11. Thou shall not lack culinary skills. Perfect the art of egusi, ogbono and all variations of rice. Home Economics is in order
12. Thou shall not be a “posh sturvs”. Sushi or lasagne…uh ..really?
13. Thou shall not knack ya head when you have a weave. Futhermore, on no account should you be caught scratching and flicking the condiments into thin air. That is simply DISGUSTING.
14. Thou shall not do any strange degrees, such as development, journalism or medical genetics. Ladies, stick to law, engineering, accounting, business or pharmacy.
15. Thou shall not have a sense of humour or try to even be funny (note: SARCASM IS A NO NO)
16. Ultimately, thou shall not go past a first degree, maybe masters (PHD IS AN ABORMINATION)
17. If thou must study a masters, please please, remember to dumb down when hanging with his friends.
18. Thou shall not disclose too much of yourself. You will seem needy
19. Thou SHALL NOT have a sex life or sexual imagination prior to meeting him. Let him “teach” you.
20. Thou shall not listen to anything other than r’n’b or hip hop (common is pushing it). All you World music and rock chicks, NOT HAPPENING MATE).
21. Thou shall NOT an independent woman. (all those “I can pay my own bills” bullshit… Basically , LONG TINS). Refer to commandment one!
22. Thou shall not be opinionated or well informed (WARNING: This might come off as intimidating. Besides, no one likes a miss know it all).
23. Thou shall not go to any obscure University. Please stick to Kent, Leicester, Nottingham, and Reading. (WARNING- YOU WILL END UP ALONE).
24. Thou shall not be overly friendly. All those social butterflies and jovial. Personalities…BEWARE.
25. Thou shall not be anti-social when it comes to his family. You have to GET IN THERE FULLY.
26. Thou shall not explore any originality when it comes to fashion. Stick to T.M Lewin, Hawes&Curtis, pointies or kitten heels, and jeans – Abortion belt always puts the icing on the cake. To complete the look, don’t be seen without your thick framed rectangular glasses (YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE TO SPECSAVERS).
27. Thou shall not hunt in packs (warning to girls with bossom bodies that cant be separated
28. Thou shall NOT be loud. Keep your voice to a minimum always
29. Thou shall not appear to be having too much fun on the dance floor. When it comes to dancing, keep it simple (Dutty winders and grinders, ITS NOT HAPPENING).
30. Thou shall not think about breaking this next commandment. The ULTIMATE, IF NOT YOU ARE FINISHED.It Will be an OYO STATE (on you own) FOR YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. LADIES PLEASE PLEASE AND PLEASE DO NOT GO TO THE BEDROOM WITH ANY WRAPPER, NIGHT SHIRT, WHITE TOP GEL OR SHELLY ON YOUR FACE. If you must Do all the above, LADIES, BURN THOSE GOLD AND BLACK HAIR NETS. Girls, we are all guilty of owning a hair net or 2. And we know that all the commandments before suggests that you must be a babe on P constantly. You have to FIND A WAY TO WORK AROUND THIS HAIR NET ISSUES. Statistics dictates that one in two marriages FAIL due to this.

My thoughts: Chei I use those nets sha, is that why..? Laff Wan Scatter My Belle For Here ooooo (LFWSMBFHO).




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Tuesday, 13 July 2010

William returns: NIGERIANS, I’m going to TELL you how to fix your country, Nobody OUTSIDE of Nigeria gives a shit about your petty tribal rivalries



Hi there
Ha, I did saw I will avoid discussing politics in this blog but this piece is a rejoinder to William's first note ( http://efemenaoreoluwa.blogspot.com/2010/06/dear-patriotic-streetsmart-nigerian-how.html ) where he detailed his experiences while working as an expatriate in Nigeria. I think he had to write this one due to the number of comments the first note gathered on facebook. Number of comments as well the general tilt of the contributors. This piece is suggesting the steps we can take to get our greatness back, goood move as I have no patience for people that criticise without solutions.

Wont spoil it with my thoughts so just keep an open mind and read on :)
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Nigeria.

Been there, done that, and It... See More’s NOT MY PROBLEM! This is just my opinion, so take it or leave it. For what it’s worth, I think those rebels down in the Delta/Rivers are people I would support. (Yeah..those guys that blow up pipelines and kidnap westerners, etc etc.)Yes, I AM angry, but have a very, very nasty habit; I can FOCUS my anger. So, now, I going to do something I very rarely do: I’m going to TELL you how to fix your country.

First, you have to stop thinking of yourselves as Ibo, or Hause, or whatever. Nobody OUTSIDE of Nigeria gives a shit about your petty tribal rivalries. You are Nigerians, and any petty rivalries can wait…or form football teams based on tribal lines; maybe you could actually learn how to play footie. And stop fighting each other, or at least compete in something that would provide some benefit.

I’ve heard that your president has banned your football team from international competition for 2 years. Is that crazy, or not? What’s HIS role model? North Korea?

You’re FLOATING on OIL, for fucks sake. Is there a single oil producing country in the world that isn’t doing pretty well for it’s people? I’m thinking OPEC/Arab countries. . The ONE large oil well left in the world got invaded by America a few years ago. (Iraq) You could be next; the USA has never worried about minor things like international law. Not that they need to: they are ALREADY pumping it out of Nigeria as fast as they can. What you going to do when it runs out? “Hey, Mr USA, we gave you all our oil, you owe us!”

Multinational reply: “Harararar….you sold it to us. What did you do with the money? Tough shit. Now go away and stop annoying us.”

Oil isn’t the only thing that Nigeria has. It’s got some amazing scenery, which people would pay to see. Pity about the lack of animals: but they could be replaced. Provided you don’t eat them.

One golden opportunity that I know of, and is being ignored; it’s a s simple as 1,2, 3.

1) There’s a nice big runway at Yola. It could easily take large jets, a few hours away from YURIP. All those weather deprived people in overcrowded countries.
2) Of course, planeloads of tourists aren’t going to visit Yola to stay in a very uncomfortable hotel, no matter how grand the scenery. So that’s got to be fixed.
3) A couple of hours drive, depending on season and the state of the road, there’s a HUGE dam to the North West. Huge body of fresh water. Boats, Yachts, windsurfing, scuba diving, water skiing…….do I need to draw a picture?

Of course, the biggest problem would be overcoming the Nigerian desire for instant wealth. “Hey…if I skim off this contract, I can build a new mansion in France!”

Just for fun, just how much work would a project like this generate? IF you don’t contract everything out, and that includes food production; Adamawa is pretty fertile state, with some big rivers…..so as much food as possible would be grown in the area, instead of just importing everything. So there’s a lot of employment, straight away. Then refurbishment of the hotel, plus some road repairs…permanent hotel staff, drivers, tourist guides…the DIRECT employment would be in the hundreds. Indirect would be in thousands.

Hotel refurbishment

Gut it, and replace whatever needs replacing. Plumbing, electrical, air con etc. This COULD be a showpiece, simply because all the replacement equipment could be of the type that is Nigeria-friendly type. That is, maintenance free, because Nigerians are not good at looking after things. So as well as energy efficient lighting and appliances, which make sense in an electricity-scarce area, things like LED lighting last hundreds of times longer than conventional lighting.

Rant mode *OFF*.



--------------------------

Agreed or Disagreed?

Me'mena


P.S:

The picture above represents the author and he can be reached through this blog as well as on myspace : http://www.myspace.com/ankmorpork

Sunday, 11 July 2010

Kola Boof on Sudan: "I speak.. as the former mistress of two of the Arab world's most powerful men, Hasan al Turabi and Osama Bin Laden.."

*No initial thoughts from me, just read and make your own deductions :)If this is the first time you are reading about this lady in this blog, please click here and here For earlier articles.

Controversial Sudanese born novelist, poet and freedom fighter, Kola Boof lives under government protection in the United States because of death threats made against her life by the government of Sudan and other Arab Muslim fundamentalist groups. In 2004, Ms. Boof will have three major books published in the United States and Europe, the most current one being a reissue of her classic short story collection, "Long Train to the Redeeming Sin: Stories About African Women". They are:

"Nile River Woman" (Poems), Feb. 10, 2004
"Long Train to the Redeeming Sin", April 6, 2004
"Flesh and the Devil: A Novel", May 11, 2004.




AN UNTONED-DOWN COMMENTARY ON SUDAN

by Kola Boof



[Ed. Note - Background: For many, many years, the radical Islamic government of Sudan has waged, what President George Bush called, "a brutal and shameful" war against its Christian and animist citizens in southern Sudan to force them to convert to Islam. Negotiations in 2002 in Machakos, Kenya, produced an agreement between the government and the South's Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA), but the war continues. Meantimes, over two million people have died, and another four million have been displaced.]

KOLA BOOF SAID:


My dearest ones in Israel, the devil has been very busy. For no matter who risks life and limb to tell the truth about the evil injustices carried out by the Arab Muslim governments of North Africa and by the mullahs that advise these governments, the media in America has responded with a hideous prejudice against Jews, against black African Sudanese, and against any fair-thinking person who dares despise the Arab imperialism that is not only destroying the Middle East, but now threatens to destroy authentic African culture of the Nile River more than it already has.

It does not matter

that I speak as the daughter of an Arab Egyptian father, a woman born Islamic in Omdurman, Sudan, or that I am an accomplished African woman writer, obviously of some intelligence.

It does not matter

that my parents were murdered in my presence, because my Arab Muslim father spoke out against the building of Lake Nuba and the enslavement of Dinka children by Arab Northerners in Sudan.

It does not matter

that I have witnessed Muslim women rolled up in carpets and set on fire, because they failed to produce male children.

It does not matter

that I speak, most regrettably, as the former mistress of two of the Arab world's most powerful men, Hasan al Turabi and Osama Bin Laden, or that I have been a paid hostess at the parties of President Hosni Mubarak and Moamar Khadafi, or that I provided proof of this before I was profiled by Fox News, and therefore, have knowledge of their true faces.

Anyone who speaks the truth in America about the evils of the Arab world is ignored, shunned and accused of supporting the so-called Jewish desecration of the Arab birthright.

Of course, we all remember that the Black Plague was blamed on Jewish people, even in nations where there were no Jews living, and this today, is the similar anti-semitic blame game, but for being a black African woman who has said so in America, I have been written off as "crazy", "emotional", "a whore" and "a hoax".

I don't deny that I'm a controversial, provocative public figure. I reject all man-made religions, be it Christianity, Islam, the Jewish faith, Buddhism or any worship that was created by men. I am a womanist and an African mother. I bare my breasts in the river once a month and I believe in the womb.

Yet still,

I have not lied about the atrocities of the Arab world.
I have not lied about the cruel evils of Islam against African people and those who refuse to join it.
I have told these truths, not because I hate any race or religion of man, but because I believe that it's wrong for human beings to take part in any cult of hate, any orgasm of violence against other humans.
According to my Sudanese Zarpunni (the women's neighborhood) and all the black women before me, the Palestinians have sterilized black women since the 1950's.

It is well known by African women that our wombs are loathed in Arab nations, because it is our wombs that produce the authentic black man. Our tongue bequeaths him his heritage and identity.

Who on this planet will deny me this truth?

In America, I have been greatly criticized by my black American brothers and sisters for supporting Israel instead of Palestine, but as a black woman and a mother of black children, how can I support the colorstruck machinations of the Palestinians?

Unfortunately, the Americans have truly mistaken me for a witch, because the Arabs have money to get their message out and I have only my books and no money,

and even then

the media portrays me as an extremist and a supporter of Bush and the Conservative Republicans,
which is an unmitigated lie.
I am as liberal and as Democratic as any American black,
but I also know the truth
about Arab Muslim societies and about the culture that creates terrorism.

The Black Americans have no knowledge of the true history that has existed more than a thousand years between the Arab Muslim invaders and the authentic African people. The powerful light skinned Black American even looks more like the dark skinned Arab than like the authentic charcoal African, so they are often weak to the propaganda of false Islamic organizations in America. Organizations that spread the lie
that Islam is an African religion
and that the Arab man is our brother,
the Israeli our enemy because of whiteness. They feel no bond with Israel.

But for the sake of my own nation, the Sudan, I am committed to changing that. I feel very strongly that Israel and New Sudan should form an alliance against the Arab world.

Obviously, I am in disagreement with my beloved hero, Dr. John Garang, but I truly believe that the peace talks in Machakos

will produce nothing

but dust, riches for the sellouts, and eventually, more Arab Muslim racism, more exploitation of blacks by the Oil companies, more black slaves for the kitchens of Jordan, Palestine, Egypt, Iraq, Libya and Saudi Arabia.

Because I am a woman and because the men love money more than they love justice, I am given a kiss on the hand and not taken seriously. I am even denied my place of honor in the organization's struggle to free Sudan. My black brothers of Sudan are very sexist and have called me Queen, but then expected the Queen to lay on her back and be a mere follower. In time, of course, they will regret this, because I am a very intelligent, impassioned person. I say now to anyone that will listen,

- and I don't say it for tired old men,
I say it for future generations -

that the Arab Muslim government in Sudan must be overthrown.
There is no other way.

It is impossible to have true peace and solidarity with the people who have
called you "abeed" for a thousand years,
stolen and sold your children into slavery,
raped your mothers and killed your fathers,
over taxed you, stolen your land from you and subjected you to racial profiling.

It is not in the hearts of the blacks to go on being ruled and humiliated by the Arabs.

And because my people have named me "Queen Kola", and because I have not yet lived up to that title, I feel that I must denounce the money offered in the Kenya peace talks and instead uphold the wishes of the people's hearts:
that we be liberated at last from racial, religious and economic dehumanization and oppression.

It's no secret that the freedom fighters of Southern Sudan have received guns and ammunition from Israel. Truly, your loyalty to the Goddess Sudan has been flawless, and I submit, sincerely, that I love you for loving my people. I stand by Israel, not only because Israel has stood by me, but because the Palestinians have defiled me.

I truly pray that someday, there will be peace, love and brotherhood between all mankind. The Arab, the African, the European, the Jew, the Asian and all others, I pray, will someday stand as one, but at this moment in time I am very sad to report that the Arab world is not our friend, and that we must recognize this or perish. I submit that both Israel and New Sudan must stop at nothing to prevail against the evil forces that choke them with malice and threaten their very existence. For if the Arabs were to lay down their weapons today, there would be no more violence. But if we of Israel and Sudan were to lay down our weapons today, we would be dead, and the whole world would be witness to yet another genocide.

War is hell, my beloveds. But so is love. And sometimes, kicking a man's ass is the only love he will accept.

Let us stand against the Arab world, as David slew Goliath. This is not what we wanted, it's what they wanted. And our children deserve our protection.

In the words of the ancient Nubians,"
'So let it be written, so let it be done'.
Tima usrah! (through fire comes the family)


The following are more excerpts from her speech given in Isreal.
http://www.kolaboof.com/interviews.htm

"Black Americans keep criticizing me...expecting me to support Palestine, when Palestine is one of the most colorstruck, racist groups of Arabs I've ever known. I don't support any of the Arab nations. To support them is to wish for the Africans to remain without power and without control of our own destinies. To support Palestine is to support slavery in the Sudan and to support the genocide of millions of Black children. Like most black Sudanese, I thank God for Israel, because Israel has been our only supporter and allie over 20 years. They give guns, amunition, food, medicine and money to the Black Sudanese. Without Israel, the Black people of Sudan would be dead. There are 2 million Black Jews in Sudan and another 2 million in Ethiopia. We have a very strong bond with Israel and the African Americans don't realize this. They think the Arab man is our brother. But as an African woman, I see the Arab man as our rapist and white supremacist. He is our greatest enemy.

The end





Activity feed


Wednesday, 7 July 2010

PEARLS OF WISDOM: dont say I dont teach you nothing here! :P



* In the 1400's a law was set forth in England that a man was allowed to beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb.
Hence we have 'the rule of thumb'

* Many years ago in Scotland , a new game was invented. It was ruled 'Gentlemen Only...Ladies Forbidden'...and thus the word GOLF entered into the English language.

* The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime time TV were
Fred and Wilma Flintstone.

* Every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the U.S. . Treasury.

* Men can read smaller print than women can; women can hear better.

* Coca-Cola was originally green.

* It is impossible to lick your elbow.

* The State with the highest percentage of people who walk to work.
Alaska

* The percentage of Africa that is wilderness: 28%

* The percentage of North America that is wilderness: 38%

* The cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven: $ 16,400

* The average number of people airborne over the U.S. In any given hour:
61,000

* Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.

* The first novel ever written on a typewriter:
Tom Sawyer.

* Each king in a deck of playing cards represents a great king from history:
Spades - King David
Hearts - Charlemagne
Clubs - Alexander the Great
Diamonds - Julius Caesar

* 111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321

* If a statue in the park of a person on a horse that has both front legs in the air means the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg in the air the person died as a result of wounds received in battle. If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes.

* Only two people signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, John Hancock and Charles Thomson.
Most of the rest signed on August 2, but the last signature wasn't added until 5 years later.

* As most boat owners name their boats, what is the most popular boat name selected?
Obsession

* If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go until you would find the letter 'A'?
One thousand

* What do bulletproof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers, and laser printers all have in common?
All were invented by women.

* What is the only food that doesn't spoil?
Honey

* Which day are there more collect calls than any other day of the year?
Father's Day

* In Shakespeare's time, mattresses were secured to bed frames by ropes..
When you pulled on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the bed firmer to sleep on.
Hence the phrase - 'goodnight, sleep tight.'

* It was the accepted practice in Babylon 4,000 years ago that for a month after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer and because their calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month, which we know today as the honeymoon.

* In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts... So in old England , when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them 'Mind your pints and quarts, and settle down.'
It's where we get the phrase 'mind your P's and Q's'

* Many years ago in England , pub frequenters had a whistle baked into the rim, or handle, of their ceramic jars. When they needed a refill, they used the whistle to get some service.
'Wet your whistle' is the phrase inspired by this practice.

* At least 75% of people who read this will try to lick their elbow!

Today's featured author -Jennifer White: Dear Future Husband...

This brilliant piece is from a prolific writer, friend and sister, Jenny. I wont spoil it with a preamble or with my thoughts..just enjoy :)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Future Husband,

Its been a while I wrote you right? Its not because I dont think about you, I still do its just that I'm filled with so many questions and didnt want to freak you out...but well I guess I can still ask:

*where are you honey?
*Dont you miss me...dont you feel me like I feel you?
I miss you alot and wonder if you long for me as I do you


Everyday you are in my thoughts, every passing minute, most times I just try and picture you in all your Magnificence
That handsome look that has a bit of rough edge to it...your broad chest with the fine hairs on it, hard shoulders just as if God knew my head would always rest there, your smile that takes my breath away whenever you look at me fondly with love in your eyes...oh yes, your eyes that seem to see right through me all the way down to my soul.

Why do you keep me waiting my love?

Do you know how many times I long to have pillow fights with you, how many times I feel like running my hands through your hair, or how I long for you to whisper '.... Jay, I love you always and forever

I wait for you darling...I believe God has a good plan for us, and gladly I'll go through the maturing process, because the last thing I want is for me not to appreciate your love when you do show up.

Soon our paths would cross, very soon we will be together forever....a man I call call a Man...a man that would brag about the jewel he has found, a man that would always have my back

Do you know why I love you so? No? Okay I'll tell you..darling its because you love me all the way, you love me with both my good and my bad...you stick with me through right and wrong...even through sick and sin, you go out of your way to make sure I always have a smile on my lovely face. I love you because unlike my ex(s) you jhaven't come to take take take and leave me emotionally drained, instead you have come to restore and show me the real side of love. I love how you respect me and my feelings, how you trust and protect me, how u get all my jokes, how you call me your angel...I love how proud you are of me...I love how you read my mind

I wait for that time we will meet and vow to be together forever.

Till then continue to be the strong, God fearing, accomplished, Intelligent, wealthy and trustworthy person you are, for indeed God knows what he is doing, grooming us separatly so we can fit together perfectly. He has custom made you specially for me.

God bless you my love.

Your Love,


Jennifer White

My thoughts: :P *Nah am not crying..there is something in my eye!*

Tuesday, 6 July 2010

Did something happen to fatherhood?


Knock Knock by Daniel Beatty
As a boy, I shared a game with my father—
Played it every morning till I was three.
He would knock knock on my door,
And I’d pretend to be asleep till he got right next to the bed.
Then I would get up and jump into his arms.
“Good morning, Papa.”
And my Papa, he would tell me that he loved me.
We shared a game,
Knock knock,
Until that day when the knock never came,
And my Mama takes me on a ride past cornfields
on this never-ending highway
Till we reach a place of high rusty gates.
A confused little boy,
I enter the building carried in my Mama’s arms.
Knock knock.
We reach a room of windows and brown faces.
Behind one of the windows sits my father.
I jump out of my Mama’s arms and run joyously towards my Papa’s,
Only to be confronted by this window.
I knock knock trying to break through the glass,
Trying to get to my father.
I knock knock as my Mama pulls me away
Before my Papa even says a word.
And for years, he has never said a word.
And so, 25 years later, I write these words
For the little boy in me who still awaits his Papa’s knock.
“Papa, come home, ‘cause I miss you.
I miss you waking me up in the morning and telling me you love me.
Papa, come home, ‘cause there’s things I don’t know,
And I thought maybe you could teach me
How to shave,
How to dribble a ball,
How to talk to a lady,
How to walk like a man.
Papa, come home, ‘cause I decided awhile back
I want to be just like you, but I’m forgetting who you are.”
And 25 years later, a little boy cries.
And so I write these words and try to heal
And try to father myself.
And I dream up a father
Who says the words my father did not.
“Dear son, I’m sorry I never came home.
For ever lesson I failed to teach, hear these words:
‘Shave in one direction with strong deliberate strokes
To avoid irritation.
Dribble the page with the brilliance of your ballpoint pen.
Walk like a God, and your Goddess will come to you.
No longer will I be there to knock on your door,
So you must learn to knock for yourself.
Knock knock down doors of racism and poverty that I could not.
Knock knock on doors of opportunity
For the lost brilliance of the black men who crowd these cells.
Knock knock with diligence for the sake of your children.
Knock knock for me.
For as long as you are free,
These prison gates cannot contain my spirit.
The best of me still lives in you.
Knock knock with the knowledge that you are my son,
But you are not my choices.”
Yes, we are our fathers’ sons and daughters,
But we are not their choices.
For despite their absences,
We are still here,
Still alive,
Still breathing,
With the power to change this world
One little boy and girl at a time.
Knock knock,
Who’s there?
We are.
(http://www.mrpelz.com/files/Daniel%20Beatty%20-%20Knock%20Knock.pdf )

Randy Marsh: N guy

Words with venom, words that bind,
Words used like weapons to cloud my mind.
I'm a person, I'm a man, but no matter how I try,
People just say, "Hey! There's that N*gger Guy."
Everywhere I go it's always the same,
Everyone just thinks of me as that one single name.
"Hey N*gger Guy!" "N*gger Guy!" "Hi N*gger Guy!" Stop!
Now go, call me N*gger Guy, fill me with your hate,
Try to bring me down, boop bop you're too late.
When will it end? Will there ever be a time
Where I can be thought of as more then just N*gger Guy?
Respect.

Sunday, 4 July 2010

This is for that loving, dashing, eligible, Christian gentleman seeking their better half....lol

*Are you an eligible, kindhearted, humorous, honest, humble, rich in spirit, special gentleman who seeks a unique, special lady, that diamond in the ruff, made for you to be with for life..here are some tips just for you!*


Real Men Risk Rejection
-------------------------



Men Initiate

Among the different roles assigned to men and women in the Bible, men are assigned the role of leadership. This is true in the church and in the family. This is not a signal of male superiority or of the greater importance of men. It is simply God's design and assignment of equally valuable roles among spiritually equal beings. Men initiate, women respond. Briefly, biblical support for this position is found, among other passages, in the creation order in Gen. 2, in 1 Cor. 11: 7-9, and Eph. 5. True, these passages refer to marriage, but it is wise and right to set patterns that will serve you well in marriage, especially if one accepts the premise that the purpose of dating is to find a marriage partner.

What does this actually look like in a budding relationship between two people?

First, the man should initiate asking the woman out. Whether this means approaching the woman herself or her father or someone filling that role instead of her father, it should be the guy that starts things off. As I mentioned, he should not do this until he is "ready" to marry. If you're not ready to marry, you're not ready to date.

As a quick aside, if you are a single man and you would not describe yourself as ready to be married within a year, think about why that is. I mention this for two reasons: (1) Scripture seems not just to encourage, but to assume that part of the growth into biblical manhood is to seek marriage, so this is a biblical goal; and (2) easily the biggest complaint that I and others who advocate this approach get from godly Christian women is that men don't initiate.

If you're still in school or not out on your own, disregard this for the moment. But if you're out of college and do not feel specifically called to singleness for biblical reasons, why are you not looking to be married? Dr. Albert Mohler has talked about a growing culture in society and in our churches of perpetual boyhood; some psychologists call it the "Peter Pan syndrome."

As I said, in the Bible, marriage and family are considered a natural stage of progression toward manhood. The command in Genesis to be fruitful and multiply is a general command. When Paul extols singleness in 1 Cor. 7 (which is an often-misused passage in this area of life), it is singleness for the purpose of enhanced ministry (discipleship, teaching, missionary work).

If you are floating around staying single because you enjoy social flexibility or having time to yourself or hanging out with the guys or because you have worldly ideas about the perfect woman or how to approach marriage, consider: Are you approaching manhood and marriage biblically? Every male who is out of college should have at least thought this through.

Once he determines he is ready to be married generally, and once he has found a particular woman he is interested in pursuing, our single man's next step is to "put some feelers out." He should talk to some of her friends, see if she's been asking about him, have one or two subtly suggestive conversations with her to see if she gives anything away.... NO! This is not initiation. Initiation is not manipulating the situation so that while you're officially "asking her out" there's no actual risk of rejection or embarrassment.

Initiation means initiation. It means that you as the man take the first step, risk and all.

In his Boundless article, "Real Men Risk Rejection," Michael Lawrence eloquently summarizes both the objections some men might raise to this idea, and, in my view, the ideal response:

"'Wait a minute. Are you saying that all the risk is mine?' Yes I am. 'Doesn't that mean that she can just tell me no and leave me twisting in the wind?' Yes it does. Welcome to leadership. Welcome to trusting God. Welcome to being a man. Your cards belong on the table. Your intentions and your feelings, to the extent that you can discern them and it is appropriate for you to share them, should be clear. Part of your role even at this early stage is to protect the woman of your interest from unnecessary risk and vulnerability by providing a safe context in which she can respond."

Truly profund! selah (as illustrated by 'lola Thompson)

Have a blessed and rewarding week ahead
x

A diiferent kind of love....Author Unknown..(ok one of those fwd fwd that made sense :P)

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom. This was the scene of ten years ago. The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid, I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affections between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.



Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes. Dew came into my life. It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her. Dew said, You are the kind of man who best draws girls eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls. Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife. But I couldn't help doing so. I moved Dew's hands aside and said, You go to select some furniture, O.K.? I ve got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised her to go and see with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt. Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew s body. This was the means of my entertainment. One day I said to her in a slight joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn't imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious. When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking with her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes. Once again, Dew said to me, Honey, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more. When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I ve got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.


Suddenly I didn t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want to divorce. I raised a serious topic calmly. She didn't seem to be much annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? . I m serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer turned her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! .

At that night, we didn t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew. With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer. A late night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fell asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again. She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me,but I was supposed to give her one month s time before divorce, and in the month s time we must live as normal life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn't want him to see our marriage was broken. She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day?

This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember . You carried me in your arms , she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning. I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage with a romantic form. I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out for the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don t tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for bus, I drove to office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, The outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vaguer.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger.
I didn't tell Dew about this.
I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, All my dresses have grown fatter. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head. Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it's time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, Actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old. I held her tightly and said, Both you and I didn t notice that our life was lack of such intimacy. I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won t divorce. I m serious. She looked at me, astonished. Then she touched my forehead. You got no fever. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of life, not because we didn t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you. Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into cry. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me to write the greeting words on the card. I smiled and wrote, "I' ll carry you out every morning until we are old."

..for those with a healthy sense of humour ;)




The cheating..breadwinner?
--------------------------

A man had been suspecting that his wife was cheating on him.

So, he planned a dummy trip and returned suddenly, arriving home unexpectedly.

He came in a special taxi after midnight and asked the driver to accompany him into the house to be a witness.

For 10,000/- the special hire driver accepted and followed him stealthily into the house.

Brandishing a pistol, the husband tiptoed into the bedroom with the driver behind.

They entered the bedroom and as the husband switched on the lights, the driver yanked the blanket back and there they were.

The wife was in bed with another man.

The husband mad by this put a gun to the naked man's head as the wife shouted, "Don't do it! This man has been very generous to us!

I lied when I told you I inherited money. He is the one who paid for all the good things we have been enjoying.

The Prado I bought for you. He paid for this house we now own, he gave me the money we owed the bank and he pays for all the tickets we use for theater.

He also pays our children's school fees and even for that suit and the others you wear.

He even pays our monthly dues!"

Shaking in disbelief, the husband slowly lowered the gun, looked over at the taxi driver and asked, "What would you do if it were you?"

The driver said, "Cover him up with that blanket before he catches cold


A sign?
---------

A woman takes her 16-year-old daughter to the doctor. The doctor says, "Okay, Mrs. Jones, what's the problem?"

The mother says, "It's my daughter, Debbie. She keeps getting these cravings and she's putting on weight, and is sick most mornings."

The doctor gives Debbie a good examination, then turns to the mother and says, "Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but your Debbie is pregnant about 4 months, would be my guess."

The mother says, "Pregnant?! She can't be, she has never ever been left alone with a man! Have you Debbie?"

Debbie says, "No mother! I've never even kissed a man, I'm still a virgin!" The doctor walked over to the window and just stood there staring out of it.

About five minutes pass and finally the mother says, "Is there something
wrong out there doctor?"

The doctor replies, "No, not really, it's just that the last time anything like this happened, a star appeared in the east and three wise men came over
the hill. And there's no way I'm going to miss it this time!!!!



Welcome onboard flight.....
------------------------
Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen.

This is your captain Boneyface welcoming you on board of Nigeria
Airways.
We apologize for the four-day delay in taking off, it was due to bad
weather and some overtime I had to put in at the bakery.

This is flight 126 to Lagos. Landing in Lagos is not guaranteed, but we
will end up somewhere in the South. If luck is in our favour, we may
even be landing on your village!

Nigeria Airways has an excellent safety-record. In fact our safety
standards are so high that even terrorists are afraid to fly with us!

It is with pleasure, I announce that starting this year over 50% of our
passengers have reached their destination. If our engines are too noisy
for you, on passenger request, we can arrange to turn them off! To make
your free fall to earth pleasant and memorable, we serve complimentary
Bongo tea and Okin biscuits!

For our not-so-religious passengers, we are the only airline who can
help you find out if there really is a God!

We regret to inform you, that today's in-flight movie will not be shown
as we forgot to record it from the television. But for our movie buffs,
we will be flying right next to Air Barka, where their movie will be
visible from the right side of the cabin window.

There is no smoking allowed in this airplane. Any smoke you see in the
cabin is only the early warning system on the engines telling us to slow
down!

In order to catch important landmarks, we try to fly as close as
possible for the best view. If however, we go a little too close, do let
us know. Our enthusiastic co-pilot sometimes flies right through the
landmark!

Kindly be seated, keep your seat in an upright position for take-off and
fasten your seat-belt.
For those of you who can't find a seat-belt, kindly fasten your own belt
to the arm of your seat ... and for those of you who can't find a seat,
do not hesitate to get in touch with a stewardess who will explain how
to fasten yourself to your suitcase."

Friday, 2 July 2010

Kola Boof speaks: " My Egyptian Sudanese-American ass is out here in sunny California producing Black babies "

My thoughts: I have a much better grasp of this outspoken woman from the first time I posted about her (See http://efemenaoreoluwa.blogspot.com/2010/05/legend-of-kola-boof.html )as I have now read more on her work, and philosophy. A friend of mine published this on facebook. I dont know what to make of it as it is her opinion based on her experience/reality not mine. Nonetheless I found it rivetting, tell me what you think :)


Kola speaks :the rap about gold diggers as posted by Sanni Damilola

" I don't deny that I'm a controversial, provocative public figure. I reject all man-made religions, be it Christianity, Islam, the Jewish faith, Buddhism or any worship that was created by men. I am a womanist and an African mother. I bare my breasts in the river once a month and I believe in the womb. "


Egyptian-Sudanese-American novelist and poet Kola Boof has been an agent for Sudan’s SPLA and was the National Chairwoman of the U.S. Branch of the Sudanese Sensitization Peace Project. She has written for television and her many books include, “Flesh and the Devil,” “Long Train to the Redeeming Sin,” “Nile River Woman” and “Virgins In the Beehive.” She blogs at Kola Boof. com

As the wife of a Black millionaire, bestselling author and mom Kola Boof lets it rip about gold diggers and the Hip Hop community’s double standards on denoting who is and is not one.
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Everybody’s been in Kim Kardashian’s mouth. Just as Ray J. stated in a recent television interview, that’s her claim to fame. And Kim Kardashian’s men, Black as they want to be, have to be rich enough to afford her—yet there’s no song on Black American radio that disses and degrades her. To the contrary, she’s written about as though we’ve been descended upon by Elizabeth Taylor.



O.J. Simpson’s famously dead wife, Nicole, was an uneducated “waitress” that he purchased Breast Implants for—then married and put in a five million dollar mansion. But there was never any song castigating her for being a skank and gold digger. Jennifer Lopez rose from a Solid Gold dancer and got all her breaks in life by sleeping with successful Black men who could further her career (Keenan Ivory Wayans, Sean Puffy Combs)…at which point…she took her “stardom created by the Black Community” over to White man Ben Affleck, then to her Puerto Rican husband’s bed; mission accomplished! Kimmora Lee Simmons, a rather pretentious phoney that I “viciously” slapped in the mouth several years ago—supposedly because I’m jealous and bitter about her Cabbage-Patch Face; Bread Box Shaped Body and don’t forget—her spectacularly flat ass, girdle-controlled tummy and butt pad supported photo shopped Ebony magazine layouts—started her gold digging in the African-American community, where she knew her failed Chinese model status would command top dollar. No Black officials greeted her with the words “skank” and no rappers berated her skin complexion or accused her of being a gold digger—as they did the singer Usher’s dark skinned self-employed Black millionaire wife.


Kimmora married Black hip hop Tycoon Russell Simmons, declared herself a “black woman” (as anyone in America can do at will; the Black Americans are ex-slaves and have no standards) and eventually launched a clothing line using Russell’s money he made off the Black Community (purporting this to be a “talent” in Essence Magazine); then after being dumped by Simmons for a more exotic even less Black-looking bombshell; tacked herself onto Djimon Hounsou (who, of course, I’m jealous that she stole from me; sarcasm intended). For this new gig, Kimmora had a baby despite the fact he wasn’t about to marry her—and, in my opinion anyway, dutifully produced the “lighter baby with good hair” as a holiday mascot for his skin-bleaching minions back in Benin, West Africa.

Fuck Kola Boof! (Oh he will sugar, he will).

Of course—nobody in the “Hip Hop Culture” refers to women like Gary Coleman’s White wife or Kobe Bryant’s video hoochie turned wife—or Kobe Bryant’s “rape accusing” Blond in Colorado with the SPERM of three men on her panties—as “bitches, Ho’s or gold diggers.” Black men just don’t disrespect the White Man’s Mother like that.

A few years ago, Kanye West and Jamie Foxx had a huge hit with a song about Gold diggers. This caused, at last, a music video that focused on beautiful child-bearing age Black women—the Black Man’s mother. At the end of the song Kanye announced, “I’m going to leave you for a White Woman!” And all of Black America and the White Pop music world laughed, applauded, cheered and drove the song to #1 on the charts—despite the fact that almost none of today’s rich and famous Black men being exploited for their money are getting bilked by Black women.

It was a totally different reaction than Marilyn Monroe, Betty Grable and Lauren Bacall got for starring in the 1950’s gold digging blockbuster “HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE”—an all blond Hollywood celebration of beautiful women’s right to be paid “at the altar” just for being bombshells. And there’s tons of other films that cheer and celebrate the entitled White gold digger from “GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES” to Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Love Hewitt’s affectionate comedy “GOLD DIGGERS”—to all those celebrated Larry King Live and Anna Nicole Smith tabloid weddings. Amazingly, no one ever writes songs berating these types of women for marrying ugly rich men old enough to be their ancestor.

For beautiful Black women who want to be the rich man’s bombshell wife, however, it’s a whole multitude of double and triple standards.

Thirty years of rap stars, Black, White and Latino have singled out the Black man’s mother as “an innately born gold digger” and “nagging shrew” unworthy of love or respect as a woman. The message on nearly every single CD is that Bitches and Ho’s (which is how the Black Man’s mother is openly referenced on the public radio or at cookouts in the back yards of Black households in the United States) are to be used as sex mules; suitable for freaky sex, preferably discarded afterward and routinely impregnated.

You’re just a punk (according to many in Hip Hop culture) if you even think about taking her to a candle lit dinner or reading poems about her majestic dark shimmering face.

If you study songs recorded over the years by T.I., Polow da Don, Young Berg, Dr. Dre and even Jay Z…the lightness or darkness of said Black female’s skin is what these men encourage young boys to use for measuring how soon said Black Woman is to be discarded after receiving her 2-Live-Crew inspired beast fucking. On those same CDs by artists like Polow da Don, T.I., Young Berg and even early Jay Z, you’ll find songs celebrating Mixed-race Brazilian girls; the prized “Biracial” beauty; the European Hottie—but the slutty things these women do in the lyric are related with affection and not rapped about in a contemptuous hateful manner as when the subject is a “brown girl” or “Sista girl.” Even the “Red Bone” songs are no longer complimentary. High Yellow-skinned Negro women who once denied Colorism, benefitted from it and looked their noses down at Real Black Women are now beginning to get the Dark girl treatment in lieu of the White or Mexican fantasy she was always the “stand in” for in the first place. But skanky whorish gold diggers or not, the White and White-like colored women are promoted by Black men as “wife” material.

Whatever you think about me writing this commentary; I’ve already heard it. I’ve heard it all my life. Dark skinned women like me deserve to be on the bottom of the food chain and we’re just “bitter and jealous” if we dare raise issue with the double and triple standards.

It simply isn’t true.

I’ve had the most wonderful Black Man on earth love me, marry me and give me two beautiful sons (granted, he’s not American, but he’s still a Black Man). My ex-husband became a millionaire five years after we married, and we were together for ten, so no one can claim that I was a gold digger. Additionally, I’ve dated my own share of rich and famous Black Men. So I know that beneath the veneer of California’s Colorstruck sun-brine, the phenomenon of Black on Black love defiantly exists. I’ve had a plethora of interracial relationships as well. Yet still, most often in my life in America, I experienced what the majority of Black women experience; a kind of “color coded target practice”—Black men asking me if I’m dark skinned or light skinned over the telephone…Black men hyping me up to think I have a chance with them; taking advantage of our eagerness to love them, which many times includes food and living space by way of working class and inner city Black girls who often financially support and harbor unemployed Black men for years. And of course the endless Camel Shit about how being enslaved and raped hundreds of years ago by White invaders was in fact a “love affair” that Black (slave) women enjoyed and not the result of a brutal slave culture. Therefore, the attitude goes that modern Black women don’t deserve to heal and be happy and that they owe Black men a supernatural loyalty based on all that power and freedom these nappy Cotton patch goddesses wielded and shared with the White man back in the Black Queen’s good old slavery days.

A friend of mine on Twitter named Shine (@nativenotes) claims that it’s not fair to make this case regarding “Black men’s tolerance of Non-Black Gold diggers” using high profile Black men—“they’re not us” he claims. But I know multitudes of Black male Waiters, Lawyers, bookstore owners, Professors, Afrocentric gurus, traffic cops, bus drivers, security guards, bankers and dentists—and it’s the same story on every class level—they break their backs to wine and dine anything that’s lighter than Tapioca while disparaging, exploiting and publicly condemning any woman who looks like their Mother, or symbolically, the Black man’s mother. We won’t even get on the African-looking woman; our real true blood berry and original Mother. The hatred turned on her “deep dark skin, thick features and nappy hair” is proof positive that more than half of Africans worldwide has a grave waiting for them in hell. There’s no way that God created a whole race of women to be scorned, hated and lied on like this. There’s also no way that Black people can rationally “explain away” or “look the other way” any longer.

White women think that I hate them. But I honestly don’t. I idolize and love dozens of White women. I have love and support from many of them in my real every day life. There are several that I call family and am grateful for.

But in a general, National sense—there is also enormous justified resentment on my part. And I have the right to that resentment; to honor and respect it. Anyone who disagrees can get on their knees and ask God if I give a damn (there’s a good chance you might not get back up). Because I do not ask permission to feel what I know is true. Unlike the majority of Black American women I know, I feel enormous “entitlement”—the same sense of entitlement that White, Other and Biracial women seem to naturally exhibit. I am beautiful, brilliant and powerful. I expect to have the best and to be treated equally.

So when White women make the claim that we are “Sisters”—then deny that Colorism exists or that they benefit from White Supremacy often more than White males do; or that Black men have a specialized historical contempt for their Blackness which translates to an epidemic rejection of his own seed—that’s when I know that we’re not sisters. When White women, Latino Women, Asian women and all other “light brite flowing haired” so called Women of Color join in applauding National images of Black men spitting on the image of their own mothers—then I know that we are not sisters. When White Women say that it’s not important that Black children be born, that mixed babies are prettier and more valuable than Black babies and that “any child” can be Black—that’s when I damned sure know that we’re not sisters.

When all you can do in the face of my degradation is “feel sorry for me”—then I know that we’re not sisters. That is no part close to God—feeling sorry for someone. Either you believe in justice and equality or you don’t. And the fact is most females are selfish and just as greedy and self-serving as men are; so in the midst of the White Feminist “sisterhood” speeches, the Black women’s sassy cum intelligent Oprah-like passivity and the White and “Other” women’s soothing “sympathetic” blank stares—nothing ever changes; the hierarchy stays the same. The biracial woman is sent forth to act as a kind of “less threatening” Black image, but in reality, regardless of what she wishes to exhibit, her light image ends up reiterating that Whiteness is superior by virtue of her being something other than Black. In other words, no matter what the society says, she’s not really Black. She’s an “extraction” of Blackness (like Vanilla extract or Rum extract)—an extraction that Whites/Others can claim credit for whenever it’s convenient for them.

Biracial American women take this as a rejection, but it’s not a rejection of them. It’s just the truth about Post-Colonial/Post-Slavery society and how, ultimately, their lightness is used against authentic Black women.

Worse than all that—Black American women mistakenly think they have a stake in the establishment here. Though they have nothing to lose by completely rebelling against the social boxes (Christianity; our sons; her slave history; sexism’s male privilege; Islam)—they actually lose more and more of their genetic authenticity with each passing decade, because they’re still serving the larger plantation. As much as the Black woman is hated, she’s the one upholding and passing on the stereotypes about her inferiority and lack of human reproductive value.


She doesn’t know how to fight back, and despite being famous for a “smart mouth,” she’s too intimidated to rock the boat…or compete. Her main obstacle is the Black man, because in general, he doesn’t give a shit what happens to her and she doesn’t have the courage to kill him off and giving birth to him over again—she’s no longer the Tulat Queen. And since she’s never cultivated and demanded her own unique physical “right to be” (a completely Black; un-mixed aesthetic)—she is unable to assert or have anyone (including Black men) back her image as a viable competitive brand amongst the rest of America’s garden. She only challenges the gaping lie that she is inferior via “sound bites” and “rants”—rarely significant tangible action.

What would be “significant tangible action”? Ten thousand Black women throwing “saved bloody tampons” at BET headquarters and chanting “Kill BET!” would be tangible action. Ceasing to purchase hip hop music that even suggests you aren’t being affirmed and celebrated would be tangible action. Ceasing to support videos and films that don’t perpetuate and flatter our public image would be tangible action.


The Black American woman is big and bad enough to shank me, her adopted African daughter, but not brave enough to SHANK the Black Man and White America. She makes excuses “Well it’s not all of them”…”I don’t want to be seen as bitter and evil”…she can fight for the Black Man to be respected as a man…or fight for her “son” against racist police…but it’s too painful for her to fight only for herself or her daughter’s image when those same sons casually spit back in her face or dismiss her valid complaints as bitterness.

Many Black American Female Scholars, Writers, Feminists and Public figures have a serious problem with Kola Boof. They feel that I’m obnoxious, out of control and that I exhibit a threatening attitude. To them, I’m an Uppity African woman—a flamboyant attention seeker. And I say Camel shit! What I speak…is pure fucking truth. And I speak my truth for the love of these Black American women (symbolically, daughters of my womb, Africa); I speak it on behalf of my own womb; my people’s authentic African beauty and my children’s right to exist and exist as themselves—Black children. I speak my truth because….I am not a Nigger. White America and Black America can take that however they want—but truly; you cannot dismiss truthful people as merely “bad attitudes,” “Angry,” “frauds” and “jealous nutcases” just because the breath of God is upon you.

And though quite a few Black American Scholars, Writers and Feminists will not be able to accept the following admonition…I say it anyway and I say it loud…I don’t have to be nice!

That’s a huge part of the problem, the silencing of the rage in Black girls by elder Black women who basically instruct us to stay in our places as we wait for change to come…and from where, I don’t know. It damned sure isn’t coming from Oprah Winfrey, the Church or nice, safe apologetic India.Arie. “You don’t want to be seen as angry”…”you can’t act ugly and expect people to care about you” (we won’t be cared about anyway, so where is the loss?)…but we never told Martin Luther King or Malcolm X that shit. Men have a right to rebel against their oppression and mistreatment. The room gets silent with respect when males refuse to be demeaned and hated on.

Somehow, I don’t believe that Harriet Tubman or Joan of Arc would tell me that I have to be nice about the color-based double and triple standards that pervade American culture. Standards that are now, slowly but surely, are infecting African culture. Just this week, we’ve got Gary Coleman’s White Wife (who looks like a life sized Chuckie Doll; not an angelic White savior) pimping his death by selling hospital photos and pitching a T.V. movie before there’s even been a funeral. Let’s see if the Hip Hop community will produce a rap song about that typical trick-ass White bitch! And let’s see how many White women purporting to be our “sisters” will cheerfully dance to it.

Yes, America. My Egyptian Sudanese-American ass is out here in sunny California producing Black babies and teaching them all kinds of “Kola” nut wisdom. You have to admit, I’m as hard as any rapper you’ve got—so how come you don’t like bopping your head to my profane Kola messages? Well, as we say in Sudan….bana/banu! (I came to stay). And whenever you feel like you want to kick Kola Boof’s ass—just get in line, take a fucking number and wait your turn.