School Bwoy

The words of another talented Sister are written to shed light on Jamaica's current state of affairs. The words of Marsha M...



Clasp your hands and close your eyes!
Says Teacher, to which they comply

Little boys in khaki uniforms stand in assembly
Before God and all mankind

Little boys in khaki uniforms become big boys who have lost their way

Little boys in khaki uniforms become big boys who rub out their hand middles smoking the good green that Jah supply, delirious on a corner. One spliff leads to another

Little boys in khaki uniforms become big boys who have children and abandon them causing a generation of confused, maladjusted, tight pants wearing, bejeweled scarf wearing, unemployed gangsters who are desperately trying to find Daadi

Little boys in khaki uniforms become big boys who get deported and become area leaders who rule by the gun in an attempt to get some respect after years of being neglected and overlooked, who have no mercy because where was mercy when they needed it?

Little boys in khaki uniforms go to Parliament and live the life-exotic holidays, criss cars, immunity from the law, homes that rival any Hollywood celebrity, and a pretty Brown ting of good breeding.

Little boys in khaki uniforms readily become a Klansman, a One order, a Stone Crusher, a soldier of the garrison shooting for what??? They don't know

Little boys in khaki uniforms become big boys who are sensible enough to weave puns and sing tunes that demean women, and glorify the gun then deflect responsibility for the subsequent breakdown in society among youth because as far as they are concerned "him haffi eat a food"

Little boys in khaki uniforms forget Sharpe, Tacky, Bogle, Garvey and fall victim to the number that slavery did on us causing increased sales in Fair and White Skin Cream and Isoplus Hair Relaxer

Little boys in Khaki uniforms become the leader of our nation and allow himself to get into bed with all kinds of mix up and have dual personalities who promises to "stamp out corruption!" then use semantics to try to back out of a colossal mess.

Little boys in khaki uniforms have the potential to be great if only they are nurtured, and guided and supported
if only they clasped their hands and closed their eyes.

~M

Dear Jamaica

One of my dear friends from home wrote this piece and she speaks my language. From age 6 we went to the same schools, participated in the same extra curricular activities, and have traveled similar paths as we've lived. For that reason I can share this note echoing the same sentiments as if they were my own. Nicole is a published writer and you may not be familiar with her now, but you will. Consider this an introduction...

Dear Jamaica:

I love you, have always loved you. I’m not sure now why loving you from a distance made more sense, but I’m sure it had a lot to do with opportunities that your valleys, lush hills and mountains, your beautiful sunshine, your vast blue beaches, fruit trees, and graves immersed in red soil where my ancestors were buried couldn’t offer me. You see, America with her promise of liberty offered me freedom to be, freedom to rise above class and socioeconomic limitations, freedom to love how I love, freedom to make it. For some reason Jamaica, I never saw myself living on your soil as an adult. I know you’re probably laughing and shaking your head now, perhaps asking in the lull of your tropical breeze reaching me all the way across the ocean, “But haven’t I raised you to be who you are?”

The answer is yes, Jamaica. Yes, you have made me the woman I am, from the deep brown of my skin kissed by the sun, to the kinks in my hair growing from roots that connect me to the maroons whose fierceness thickens my blood. Jamaica, you owned me. You instilled in me ambition to leap over hurdles and soar to new heights. You knew that I was a free spirit who as a child, often chased the wind when it blew the clothes on the clothing lines or when it rustled the palm trees that chattered like washer women gossiping at the river under the watchful midday sun. You knew. You knew when given the opportunity I would run with it. This was what happened when you planted the seed of education in the minds of your children from the tender age of three and exposed us to your rich culture in the arts. You knew that with education and exposure, we would one day rise to fulfill our promise to you; to salute you and make you proud where ever we go in life. That’s what you wanted, Jamaica. And you see? I did it.

So now that you’re in distress, I’m helpless not being able to return to save you. The politicians have had a field day with your riches and now the people are paying the price. From a distance I hear the people’s cry, I see that they want new blood to run the country, write new laws, put our heads together and form new ways of thinking. Jamaica, it was on your soil that I learned that “the heights of great men and women are reached and kept”, and so whatever we put our minds to and work towards, it will come to pass. Yes, it will.

Jamaica, there is a new generation coming to save you now. You might not know yet because some of them have been partying their days and nights away to cope with not being taken seriously by the generation before them, but there are a selected few who see through all that and have made up their minds to take charge of their own destiny. This situation with Dudus is showing many young Jamaicans that they need to wake up and claim you for the first time in their life as their country. You watch. Jamaica, change is coming and it will be for the better. And if I can help it, I’ll be right there with them too.

Your Prodigal Daughter, Nicole
© 2010

"You Don't Know My Story" (Campaign)

Two Sisters of mine are affiliated with this project so I'm getting involved and want you to as well Please... :)

"Greetings,

You Don't Know My Story is a campaign geared towards recognizing self prosperity through reflection and appreciation that everyone has a life story worth telling. The campaign was originally started by the non-profit organization, Black Positive Image (BPI).

BPI focuses on reaffirming and restructuring the images and perceptions of African Americans through actively encouraging positive thinking and behavior.

In partnership with BPI, an 8th grade after school program has the opportunity of serving as a vessel in continuing this campaign. We plan to create a booklet of submissions for the young ladies involved in the character development program and also post them to a blog site created for the campaign.

Help us bring this campaign to life! All we ask is that you take the time to share your story so that young ladies and people around can learn, reflect, and grow.

Submission Details:
v Female Submissions Only
v Stories should e mailed to: knowmystory@gmail.com
v Length: 1-2 pages single spaced
v Submissions can be Anonymous
v We encourage you to invite your friends, family, and network to help keep this campaign alive.
v Understand by submitting a story you give us permission to use it for the printed booklet. However, we will still make selections based on the quantity received. Please specify if you would like to remove your submission from being posted on a blog.

Thank you in advance for helping bring this campaign alive and helping young ladies experience triumph through your lens."

Feel free to contact them or get more information below...

~JoskiDiesel on Twitter
~BlackPosimage on Twitter

A Memory, A Monologue, A Rant & A Prayer @Bottletree tonight!

This would qualify as a "My Life" post. One of my favourite spots in town is hosting a benefit for an agency I volunteer for...

Writings to Stop Violence Against Women and Girls: "A MEMORY, A MONOLOGUE, A RANT AND A PRAYER.

"Sibyl Theater presents a V-Day Campaign production of "A Memory, A Monologue, A Rant and A Prayer," a collection of writings that address the issue of violence against women and girls from a variety of perspectives. The V-Day Campaign uses arts events to increase awareness and raise money for charities working to stop violence against women and girls. Proceeds will benefit the Rape Crisis Center and the V-Day Spotlight Cause: Women of the Congo."

Show at 7pm on Thursday & 9pm on Friday @ BottleTree. All ages welcome.
Tickets are $8. $5 student tickets at the door.
Directions HERE

Until the Violence Stops!

Seeking Mr. Coke aka Duddus

Ahhh my country. It's amazing how tolerant we are of the criminals who destroy our community from the inside out. Oh that's right, it's because it comes from the top, the government, the root of all evil. PoliTricks just isn't cool, especially when it has the potential to affect everyday citizens who have not a darn thing to do with the foolishness. Oh I'm sorry, what am I rambling about? The fact that the Jamaican Government refuses to hand over Christopher "Duddus" Coke to the US; see the indictment.

Short version, Duddus [who has never touched US soil], is responsible for countless crimes in yard & farin. His dad, Lester Coke aka Jim Brown, was in the same position over 2 decades ago, but the government negated the extradition by making sure he didn't live to be escorted overseas. So basically, Duddus grew up to take over the family business, and proved to be smarter than Jim Brown... The government of Jamaica cannot release Duddus because:

• if they do, he will sing like a bird and majority of the JLP will be under arrest.
  

• if they try to kill him [like they did his father], his lawyers have incriminating documents, to be released in the event of his death. Smart guy...

The government of Jamaica's refusal to release Duddus can affect the non criminal citizens of Jamaica mainly because... Visas will be cancelled and denied. Parliament can verify, as well as cops; both presumably corrupt.

This article sheds a little more light on the matter, and here's a documentary about The Shower Posse for your enlightenment... Leave me feedback, let's talk about this! :)

The Shower Posse

Side note: Thanks to all my new followers and loyal old ones who stuck around while I was getting my life together. :) I appreciate greatly.

My Apologies

I'm sorry for my absence in the blogosphere but I've been away working, and I generally think too hard into doing posts. So if I feel something isn't up to par, I don't post it. :/ I will however get back on my game and do better. I'm going to have trust my gut, and trust that you want to see as much of what I see, and not just the glamourized things.

Peace & Blessings til we meet again!

Robert Nesta Marley OM - Rest In Peace

You departed 28 years ago, but your memory lives on in ways you would never imagine. You put Jamaica on the map; you've been dubbed Man of the Millennium, Exodus was the Album of the Century, and One Love the song of the Millennium. You lived your life to the fullest and created quite a legacy to show it. If I could take one thing to live by, out of the many you've uttered...I'll go w/ what you said to Ziggy these 28 years ago; "Money Can't Buy Life". Bless up to the big man, your words will live on....

Redemption Song... my fave :)



Ode to Bob Marley by Mark Johnson...



Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds...