Pwani iwakilishwe

Nostalgia kicked in again because the warm weather is finally here. I picked Mr. Nice's song due to the fact that this guy can shake better than most girls out there! Enjoy.

Madea in Print

Hellerrrr!

This is Madea, how yall doing.(please read this is your most propperrr Madea Voice)

Listen I wrote a book. I got tired of all ya'll asking me all kinds of advice so I wrote down all the advice that I could and put it in this book.It's called it "DON'T MAKE A BLACK WOMAN TAKE OFF HER EARRINGS", and I mean it. It will be on the stands April 11th just in time to make you laugh after paying your taxes.Ya'll got to read this book. I talk about every thing from the miracles of Vaseline to "klink klink lock down". This is my first book and I don't want it to be my last so for all ya'll who like to read, and for ya'll who don't read this is a book you will enjoy. So, pick it up. It is wonderfurr. You can get the book at my favorite store Walmart, or any book store, including that Barney and Nobles place, and all them other places where you readers go to get something to read. I hope you enjoy it and put it on your book club list cause it ain't never gonna make it to Oprah's book club. I guess if Springer had one, this book would be right at home. If you need a laugh or just some advice on relationships, dating, love, money, and raising children Madea style, or killing your husband without getting caught then this is the book for you. So, if you need a laugh or you know somebody that is so stuck up that they look like they been sucking lemons then buy this book for them.They will think you're being nice, but the truth is you want them to relax before you go off on them.

Thank yourrr
Madearrr.


I love Tyler Perry and what he stands for. This guy has stuck to his guns in Hollywood and has kept the main message in his plays and soon to be movies. His plays have a message of faith and forgiveness in them and even though they are primarily directed to Christians I think most of us can do well to learn a thing or two from it. My sister sent me this e-mail because I am a huge fan of the plays. This coming month of May, Tyler Perry arrives in Minneapolis to do his play "Madea goes to Jail". I will be stuck studying for finals and won't be able to make it. I can take solace in knowing that God Willing one of these summery days I can take a trip to the closest venue to watch him live. I am looking forward to getting the book too.

The Champs!!!

FSU wins the NCAA championship game. They won against UCLA bruins. It was a beautifully played game. Brewer made a huge difference with his constant pressure and steals. Joakim made a difference with his blocks. Hodge, Moss, Green, Humphrey and Horford all made a difference. This team walked on that court with their mind set on winning this game. Their coach instilled his competitive nature in them. He stoked the fire and it blazed bright and true on that court.

UCLA was used to holding an opposing team to under 50 points. FSU was having none of that tonite. They gave UCLA no chance of tying the game neither did they let up on the pressure. At times they were half court defence and at times they were full court defence. The thrill in the game was so much that with each basket that UCLA got you wanted to see what FSU's answer was. Absolutely deserving on the championship if you ask me.

Madness that trancendes Self

Collecting information for the tunnel of oppression was a stark eye opener to me. I realized there are many things that are sometimes beyond our scope of empathy. Read on.

"White people are running around trying to save everything including stupid, useless niggers....We need ethnic cleansing on a massive scales in this country. Fcuk sending them back to Africa, we should just sweep them into the sea. Sharks gotta eat too," wrote one white supremacist on VNN about Hurricane Katrina black victims.

On Dec 7th, 1995: Two African American residents of Fayetteville, North Carolina, were brutally and senselessly murdered by three soldiers who apparently identified themselves as Neo-Nazi skin heads. Police said the soldiers were looking for black people to harass and shot the victims as they were walking down the street. Micheal James, 36 and Jackie Burden, 27, were shot down in a city street in the early morning hours.

On Mar 29th, 1996: An African American woman, Bridget Ward and her two daughters, Jamila, 9 and Jasmine, 3 moved into a rented home in the virtually all-white Philly neighbourhood of Bridesburg. Late that night, she heard young people marching down the street, chanting, "Burn, motherfcuker burn." The next morning, Ward, who works as a nurse's aide, found racial slurs smeared on her house, ketchup spilled on the front side walk and back porch, and an oily liquid was splattered in the rear.

1993: In Fairfax County, Virginia, an affluent community near Washington, DC, A 41 year old black woman heard the doorbell ring at the home where she was house-sitting. When she looked out the window, she saw a cross burning 10 feet from the front door.

1994: In Los Angeles suburb of South Gate, the white neighbours of a black woman burned a cross on her lawn, kicked her children, hanged and gassed her puppies and placed "White Power" signs on her property.

Wedowee became the focus of national attention in 1994 when the high school principal threatened to cancel the prom if inter-racial couples planned to attend. He announced to the school that a young woman of mixed race had been a "mistake". The final result of racial tensions provoked by the divided community was a school that was burned to the ground.

A crossburning took place outside a black student's dormitory at LSU in January 1992, and in February, a cross was burned at a black family's home in frisco.In april 1993, the only person of color in a group of youths in New Orleans was struck and dragged by a car occupied by white men who yelled racial slurs at the black college student.

Three inmates of the Picayune jail were visited in July 1990 by men wearing Klan masks. The men placed a knife to the throat of one inmate and threatened to kill him. A police officer and jailer were implicated by an FBI investigation.

Approximately 250 marchers turned out in Meridian and Philly on April 27, 1991, for a march sponsored by the Confederate Knights of America. About 30 skinheads acted as security for the march and later that evening , a triple crossburning was held near Decatur.

The most gruesome of all was the story of Byrd, 49, who accepted a ride from suspects as he walked home from a niece's bridal shower. Police believed that instead of taking him home, the men drove Byrd to a wooded area, beat him, chained him behind Berry's truck and sped down a bumpy road east of town. Allegedly Brewer said that the victim's throat was cut before they dragged him. Byrd's severed head, neck and right arm were discovered about a mile from where his shredded torso was dumped. A trial of blood, body parts and personal effects stretched for two miles, police said. This happened in Texas.

I can understand that these atrocities are far surpassed by the ones commited in our own continent of Africa, but what I fail to see is the logic. USA claims to be a haven of democracy and equal rights. 130 years after the abolishment of slavery and there are still incidences of oppression. How can you be an advocate for human rights when it is not even followed within your borders nor believed by some of your citizens?

Final Matchups

Yea so today I am tired and in a crappy mood. Less than 8 hours of sleep in the past 55 some hours and I am still awake. Wish I knew what kicks my insomnia in high gear some days. Anyway FSU made it against GMU, just like I prefered it. Noah wasn't his full self this game and kept getting benched. Talk about him getting called for travelling calls everytime he got his groove. But they won and with a sizable margin too.



UCLA vs LSU team was a blow out. LSU should have just given up when there was a 10 point diff. UCLA utilized their bench and Hollins got to rest a lot during the game. Their defense was perfect and even though it was a low scoring game, LSU had no hopes of making it.


That leaves FSU and UCLA as contenders for the championship. Come Monday we will see who is the best college BBall team out there.

Spring Swing & Being Black

My roommate had this brain storm last summer to organize a swing dance. First day of uni she rushes to welcome me back to the apartment by telling me her ideas while her hands were full with my baggage. Finally last Saturday she saw her work bear fruits. We actually pulled off a swing dance in our little town and it was a success. There was a live jazz band playing all night with a canary chirping some tunes in between. Actually there were three jazz bands and they would take turns playing. We also had a non-alcoholic bar. In between dancing you could go request a kiss on the beach (Just to be PC), a virgin Shirley temple , a virgin pina colada among other things. More than that though was seeing all the students, faculty and community turn up dressed to the nines. I mean I am talking a dead ringer for the 1920-40's era. So we swung the night away. I had to sell tickets cause I was using any excuse not to be on the dance floor. As the night progressed I breathed easy. In walked all the basketball players and off course they wanted in for free. Since they were in our organization I let them slide in. Nico came outside to hang out with me and said we have to go dance at least once. I laughed the suggestion off and continued selling tickets. Ochieng walked in. I had seen him at the swing dance practice we had conducted and he was wearing a shirt with a kenyan logo. I didn't have time to talk to him then but here was a perfect opportunity. As I stamped the back his hands I casually asked him if he was from Kenya. He replied in the affirmative and we talked in kiswahili for a few minutes. Knowing he was with his date I didn't want to interrupt his evening I was just happy to have someone to talk to in Kiswahili. I ushered him into the ballroom but as he walked away he gave me his card, asking me to call him sometimes.

Nico was true to his word, he had gone to get my roommate to sell the tickets while we danced. Nico was a Californian with a Latino ancestry so he could move very well on the dance floor. We danced three songs in succession and I was dizzy for all the spins we were doing. I begged off and went to get a pina colada. The evening went well. I got to dance with Nico again after dancing with Dee and Chicago (Joe). It was a success in my book but my roommate the perfectionist thought we could have done better. So all hyped up we packed the drinks into my trunk and decided to get an early breakfast. Climbing into my car was a couple of other friends and we set out. Maintaining my speed limit we drove to the other side of town. I can't drive without the music blasting and since we were all hype the other guys joined in the merriment. Suddenly the red and blue light flashed in my rear view mirror. I turned the volume knob down and pulled over wondering why I was pulled over.

The cop swaggered to my side as his friend flashed his flashlight at my car occupants. I handed over my license and registration to him when asked. He asked me to sit tight while he ran my license. While we were waiting my friends asked if I was speeding and I said No. I was going within limits. So we started questioning why we got stopped and inevitably we came to the race card. We were all of dark complexion in the car and driving around in the wee hours of the morning with music blasting. My blood boiled as my face started burning at the indignation of being pulled over. I heard a tap at my window and the cop handed me back my documents. He explained he stopped me because my front tag was outdated but the back one was current. WHAT? He took away 20 mins of our lives for something that if he looked at my registration would have seen it was current. I shut my mouth as an outburst was forthcoming. Smiling sweetly I said no worries and pulled away. During our whole breakfast we ranted and berated the American system. Hey I thought we have tunnel of oppression program coming up in a couple weeks that we have to prepare for. How about doing a piece on oppression disguised in the 21st century. This weekend we get to work on it and hopefully I will have plenty of pics to share as we set up our tunnel.

The prologue to my book Inshallah

3udbi was playing outside when it happened. She heard the bloodcurdling screams start off at the edge of the village as it made its way towards her like waves crashing on the reef. At first she didn't know what to do. She stood with her head cocked towards the noises and her hands still holding on to her pebbles. After a few minutes she saw the smoke rising above the huts and she knew she had to go find her mother. Her feet barely touching the ground she bounded over stones and around trees as the sense of dread filled her little heart. 3udbi stood a few feet from the closest hut as she witnessed men with turbans around their heads setting it on fire. This didn't look good. She knew very well from the village legends that men with turbans around their heads came to take people away to Hell. She had to find her mother and little brother fast before they were taken to Hell. Skirting around the now burning hut she used a rugged path to get to her side of the village.3udbi skidded to a stop and out of breath by her neighbour's hut or at least where her neighour's hut used to be. Peeking around the now carcass of a hut, that was still smoking, she saw her mother's hut. It was burning with intensity as screams and wails come from within. Rushing forward towards the house without any forethought or precautions 3udbi had only one thought ringing in her head, "Hooyo needs me! She is crying for me!." Someone grabbed her as she got close enough to see the fire engulf the door. She kicked and yelled at the top of her lungs, "Hooyo...........alaa Hooyo. Hooyo macaanto...........Hooyo kadax bax. Hooyo! Hooyo! Hooyo!" Tears flowed from 3udbi's eyes as she clawed and kicked to be freed from her captor. Her mother was burning up in that hut and was calling for her. She knew she needed to be there for her. She needed to be with her mother even if it meant dying in that furnace with her. She watched as her home collapsed in on itself. She watched as the sounds of her mother's wail died and in its place was the hissing of the fire and absence of the voice that had lulled her to sleep many a night. 3udbi stopped fighting and crying as the blackened hut groaned its last. She knew it was over. She would never again see her mother and brother. They were gone . They had left her alone in this world with nothing. The wind whistled through the village carrying with it the smell of burnt flesh and palm trees but more profoundly it carried 3udbi's mother and brother away from her forever.


I had inspiration and encouragement from a lot of people during the past years and I finally decided I will pour my heart in a book and Inshallah may it be a work that will educate and entertain people. Let me know what you think of the prologue. This is just an excerpt of it.

Elite Eight

Uconn made it. The team that was most raved about had to go to OT to prove their worthiness. Rashad and Williams are the key figures here that need a thump on the shoulder. Positively nice game to watch.

Florida Gators make it and who else that lead that team to victory but the only and only Joakim Noah (the cute tall dude on the right as girls call him). Wonderful game too. Wish I was in the HHH arena to watch it.










On the right is George Mason who made sure Wichita lost all hope of being in the Elite Eight. Theirs wasn't such a thrilling game but nonetheless congrats!

Finally comes the team that I was so sure were gonna make it through but they also had to battle it out in OT and won by a point over Boston College.

To recap, this is the Elite Eight match ups. FSU takes on Villanova, Uconn takes on GeorgeMason, LSU takes on Texas and UCLA takes on Memphis. By Sunday we will be down to the Final Four!

Tears on my Jersey caused by Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

I am in awe, absolute awe at the game I just witnessed. NCAA's game: Gonzaga against UCLA. UCLA played a horrible first half till the closing mins of it. I mean they couldn't play any worse than they did. Gonzaga's All American champ Morrison was on top of his game. I mean he was making all his shots right. Then right up under their nose with foul trouble and bad calls against them UCLA takes the lead in the closing seconds. I mean absolutely stroke of luck on their part but God I couldn't study the whole second half of the game because I kept looking up at the game. Don't ask me how I study with B-ball on but I do.





So now LSU (an upset in it of itself they beat Duke) takes on the Texan Longhorns and UCLA takes on Memphis. Redick (Duke) and Morrison (Gonzaga) both shed tears at the court for losing. Dang I would to after training all year and watching what you fought so hard to achieve just slither itself right on down the drain.I so wish I was in MPLS tommorrow to watch the Gators and Georgetown play. I mean I could care less about Villanova cause they obviously gonna make it in but I am kicking myself at the moment for not being able to cough up $130 to watch NCAA in my city. I guess I will be monitoring it from my computer with my NCAA pass. Look for more commentary as the regionals progress and we head into the final four.




Ps:- The Longhorns also won by a three pointer right at the buzzer!

Pps:- I know I used a lot of 'I mean' but I am like that when I get as hyped as I am now. (Apologies for my writing skills in this post) .

***Walking away still in awe***

Passage of Life

Khadija walked into the house from the class pissed due to the amount of homework she was laden with. Taking off her sneakers she made her way to the kitchen. No one was home by the looks of the empty burners. Opening the fridge she weighed her nutrional options. She could go for the left over lasagna, frozen fries or make an omelette. She instead reached for the ice cream bucket, milk and strawberries. Blending them together with strawberry syrup she left the dirty dishes in the sink and made her way to her room. Khadija eagerly turned on the computer and as she waited for it to boot up she took off her hijab infront of the mirror. She looked at the image staring back at her. There stood a 5 foot 5 inches woman with baby having hips and endowed chest & back wise. She glimpsed the rolls of fat hanging around her belly and turned away disgusted. She was fat just like everyone told her and should probably start working out. She looked at the glass of milkshake she just mixed and decided to put off her diet and workout for another day. She deserved this treat after the day she had.


The chime and pop ups of the messages on her IM let her know she was ready to go. She sat herself in her chair and proceeded to look at the list of people online. Going down the names in her Yahoo, MSN and AOL she didn't see who she was looking for. Starting up Paltalk she held her breath as she clicked the pop-ups closed. There he was; CheekyNSneaky. She hurried to type her hello and waited for a reply. After 10 mins when there wasn't a reply she tried to say something else and found out that she was unable to send any message to the person. She was blocked! Khadija's heart broke into pieces as her world fell apart. She sat there staring at the computer numbly unable to process what just happened.


Today was supposed to be a special day. CheekyNSneaky and her were supposed to meet up after months of chatting online. He was everything she ever dreamed of. He was handsome, smart, understanding and had a great sense of humour. He looked past the artifical layer and saw the beautiful swan in her. This had done wonders in boosting her self esteem and she loved him for it. She had dressed in her most figure enhancing outfit, had a pedicure, manicure and matched from her hijab to her black open toed sandals. Khadija was excited as she had parked infront of Caribou. She peered into the cafe but didn't see any somali male in there. She reassured herself that she was probably early and he was probably on CPT (Colored People's Time). She grabbed her purse and book and made her way into the store. Ordering Cafe Au Lait she picked a spot where she could see who walked in and still pretend to be engrossed in her book. For a few minutes she was nervous as she watched the minute hand make its rotation. This was silly something must have happened. Khadija finally to ally her fears picked her book and started reading it in earnest. At about half past the meeting hour a somali man walked in. He didn't look anything like the picture of CheekyNSneaky. He made his way to the counter and ordered his drink. While he was waiting he kept sneaking looks at Khadija. Thinking back now Khadija was pretty sure he was evaluating her. When his order was ready he walked out. After another 15 mins Khadija got up herself and disappointedly drove to her class.


Now Khadija got up from infront of her computer and sat on her bed. Tears started forming in her eyes and she brushed them aside. How could he? Was the man who walked in his friend who had negatively appraised her? Was it her weight? Was she not beautiful? He has seen her pic before and he had remarked that he didn't care for looks and what was inside was beautiful in his eyes. Khadija braced her knees to her body as she experienced what only some know as heartbreak. She vowed what many women before her have vowed; never to fall for the false charms of men anymore. Khadija now was an emotionally mature woman forever marked with this experience.

Allah Made Me Funny

Who says Muslims can't be funny? Watch Azhar,Azeem and Preacher Moss doing their thang on stage.

Contrasting sentiments

THE LONELINESS (Babyface)

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

Im sitting here thinkin' about
How Im gonna do without
You around in my life
And how am I gon' get by
Aint got no days, just lonely nights
If you want the truth, well girl Im not alright
Feel out of place, and out of time
I think Im gonna lose my mind

Chorus:
So tell me how you feel (Im lonely)
Are you for real (so lonely)
Do you still think of me (I think of you)
Baby still (you only)
Do you dream of me at night
(Its like I dream you all the time) so lonely
Oh let me tell you how it feels
(Its like everday I die)
Wish I was dreamin but its real
(When I open up my eyes)
Oh let me tell you how it feels
(And dont see your pretty face)
I think that I will never love again

I miss your face, I miss your kiss
I even miss the arguments
That we would have from time to time
I miss you standing by my side
Im dying here, its clear to see
If there aint no you, God knows there aint no me
Dont wanna live, I wanna die
If I cant have you in my life

Chorus:
So tell me how you feel (Im lonely)
Are you for real (so lonely)
Do you still think of me (I think of you)
Baby still (you only)
Do you dream of me at night
(Its like I dream you all the time) so lonely
Oh let me tell you how it feels
(Its like everdayI die)
Wish I was dreamin but its real
(When I open up my eyes)
Oh let me tell you how it feels
(And dont see your pretty face)
I think that I will never love again

As Spring looms in the horizon my mind reverts back to the “good ol’ days”. Something about the weather changing jump starts a heart. It could be the new seedlings bearing their fruit or it could be the flowers opening up to perfume the whole world. Whatever it is, it lead me to write this post.

This is a dedication to all the first loves out there. Let nostalgia set in as you walk down memory lane with this song. Click above to hear the sultry voice of Goapele as she sings it.

First Love.

As summer was ending, you were walking in
It seemed my life was falling
but in this season we were friends
six days into spring, is where our story begins
you didn't rush a thing,
but you knew you would win

CHORUS
I never thought you'd be the only one
I dreamt of fairytales ,thats how we begun
but I was waiting for some magical moment,
that would prove to me, forever would be fine,
meanwhile my first love, was standing first in line

One of the first times I didn't feel alone,
Is when i was in your arms
you always made me feel at home
we watched the sunrise,cause the night had sliped away
and from then until now, we've been through some different phases
but you love the winter, love the challenge,
always managed to think that we would make it

CHORUS

So let me get used to things, cause gradual is my name
I don't dive into the cold, I get in slow
but every day, I'm making peace with loving you,
peace with being me
any pieces of us-
I claim them all today

CHORUS

The hand that rocked the cradle

During the week I was home for spring break I spent a lot of time hanging out with my niece/nephew and younger siblings. I sat through the Disney "High School Musical" among other things and rewatched Harry Potter with them. One night as I sat on the couch with my little nephew on my lap laughing with his toothless mouth, I had an idea. Instead of watching TV (not that I was enjoying this) I was going to tell the younger ones a story. The more I thought about it the more I became certain that it would be more engaging than the Suite Life of Zack and Cody. I switched off the TV to the chagrin of the children and dimmed the lights in the living and dining room. I asked them to sit around me as I settled on the floor with the couch as my back support. I waited as the bodies shifted into positions and grumblings at this change of normalcy, finally quiet settled over us like a blanket, warm and enveloping.


There was once a wealthy man who had a big house and a big family to boot. He lived in the outskirts of town and was highly respected by his peers. The man's name was Hassan Burkenge. He was as tall as a telephone pole and as timid as a mouse. Most of the time people had to lean in close to listen to what he was saying. Hassan's wife was called Hawo. She was complete opposite of her husband. She was a proud Somali woman who used every opportunity to flaunt her wealth and her prestige. One day when Hawo was walking through the town center she came across the mayor's wife. This woman was in no means any more beautiful than she nor was she any more intelligent but yet she got more attention than Hawo wherever she went. Hawo was disturbed by this and went home in deep thought. As she walked by the fields her husband owned she mused that what was lacking was power and power she would get. Walking with more resolve she tracked her husband movements the whole day measuring him up for the position she intended him to occupy in the heirachy of power. She knew he would have to get a stronger voice, stand up straighter and most of all be ruthless. The task that lay ahead of her was astronomical but she knew she would rise to the challenge.


A week passed as our Hawo plotted and planned and finally she was ready to set her plan into action. That morning as she set breakfast infront of her husband she slipped something in his tea. She watched with eagle eyes as he gulped it down per usual. He was slow to get up but when he did she could have sworn he stood taller than before. His beady eyes shifted back and forth as if unsure of where he was. Hawo could have jumped with glee when he turned to her and in a harsh voice instructed her on what he wanted for lunch. Smiling to herself instead Hawo demurred and nodded her head in acknowledgement. She bowed her head lower as she came closer to her husband and in a whisper told him that his opulence was wasted in the fields and that he needed to step up to do what he was born to do;rule. Hassan listened to his wife and as his wife explained how they would go about it he smiled a devilish smile.

Within two days the weapons were ready. The machetes sharpened, the gun powder ready and the guns oiled down. Hawo stood back and admired her work. She knew soon she will be feared by all not to mention the power to make or break a person. Hassan lead his army to wage war against the town and took it over after two days of a siege. He was a ruthless ruler and he wasn't satisfied with only that town. Soon with his wife's prodding he slowly annexed the neighboring villages and towns. If the village or town opposed him vehemently he massacred them leaving the poor village bathed with blood and sorrow. Hawo enjoyed this man that she had molded into a great warlord. She enjoyed the fear she saw in the eyes of her peers when she walked past them. She reveled in this new life that she forgot what she had to do to get it.

A debt must be collected and when the time came the Devil was knocking on the door to collect. Hawo drunk with power ignored him telling him that there was no way she was going to give her youngest child to him. The devil warned her that she would have to face consequences to her breaking the deal but she laughed in his face. The next day when she awoke she found all of her children dead. She was distraught and yelled and stomped her feet. She cried and berated her misfortune but the Devil didn't show up. At the end Hawo went crazy as she had recollections of the masses that she had a hand in killing, the mothers who cursed her as they watched their men and children die and finally the villages she had delighted in razing to the ground. One night she awoke to her husband watching her. He asked her what drove her mad. Hawo cried while she relayed how she had entered a contract with the devil to make her husband the warlord he was. Her husband got up and came close to her, she clutched him closer to her and was shocked as she felt a knife piercing her back. She watched as the world dimmed out and the last thing she saw was the man she had molded;a cold hearted killer.

March Madness

You know what month it is. College hoops season is on and blazing hot. Villanova, Duke, OSU, UCLA and off course the fav this year UCONN. The icing on the cake for me has got to be to actually witness the regionals if I get a good samaritan to buy me a ticket **hint hint**. Should definately be a good month.

Uh huh............NBA. I am very very very dissapointed in Pistons. They got beat by Wizards and of all people the Lakers! Ugh don't get me started on that game.They are past their 50th game but guess what grizzlies and spurs are right on their a$$ with 49 wins on their belts. They better shape up pretty soon or I am going to be sticking my head in the sand and pretend I am dead to the world. When they got beat by Lakers I got a gloating phonecall celebrating the fact. Gawd I don't want to get any more of such phonecalls!!!

Conclusion

This is an quote from a book I am reading. When I read this for some reason it struck true.Maybe it explains a lot of things I see these days or maybe because I look for answers in odd places. Whatever the case I want to share it with the rest of y'all bloggers out there. Be interesting to see what your views are and maybe even what experiences you went through that follow this theorem.

"First love preserves throught a marriage the bright, living kernel of the
falling-in-love that engendered it, the outgoing of the heart by which the lover
recognizes, sometimes instantly and sometimes by progressive stages, the human
being who can soothe or satisfy his deepest desires-the one person with whom he
can redemptively re-create the primeval love for a father, mother, sister,
brother or other family member that could never be fulfulled. And though, when
he falls in love, the lover may know little about the beloved, whose soul may be
a mystery and whose body may hide beneath its clothes an ugly defect or scar yet
to be uncovered by his desire, still he is bonded to his beloved blindly and
trustingly and is ready to die for her even before he has seen her nakedness.
This is the meaning of the expression "falling in love" found in so many
languages, for the lover has as it were fallen into a deep pit (at the bottom of
which may lurk a snake or scorpion), and there must build his love for himself.

And even after the outward signs have yielded their inner promise in all its
glory or poverty, its undreamed-of heights or insufferable depths, the glow of
the first falling-in-love continues everywhere and all the times. Yes, even when
the beloved is in a wheelchair in an old-age home, diapered and connected to
tubes, even then the flash of a smile in moldering eyes, the ancient movement of
a veiny hand, the heard-again lilt of a dear voice, even a single sentence
containing the right words , can resurrect the first falling-in-love in a
twinkling-that love that unconditionally and in advance forgives every weakness
and failing, if only for the reason that in advance it knew nothing about them.

Indeed, nothing is more democratic than this total embrace of the beloved;for
just as the state, or the republic, can never revoke the citizenship of a
citizen, be he a spy, traitor, rapist, or murderer, so first love forbears in
all things because the first, unconditional falling-in-love persists.

There is another kind of love. The kind of love that has to do with choice. A more
developed variety, skipping love's primitive and dangerous "fall" for what is
deliberately and courageously chosen-not because it is the best choice, since
there is always a better one, but because it has potential. (I once watched a
nature program on television about a certain species of duck or swan that takes
four years of painstaking investigation to choose a mate-the longest aptitude
test on record.) Rather than marriage as a first flowering of feeling that lasts
only until the next falling-in-love, the love of choice offers something less
passionate but more stable:responsibility. In a moment of crisis the first kind
of lover declares emotionally,"What is done is done-I fell in love
with you, and so I forgive you," but whereas the second kind says
coolly,"Yes, what's done is done-I chose you, and I am responsible
for my choice."But-and here's the rub-while love of the first kind
can by its nature overlook what it doesn't like, love of the second kind is
incapable of such evasions. And so when something bad shakes the foundations,
"responsible love" is too weak to support it-and at that point the whole
structure collapses, and all that's left to say is,"You'd better pack your
things!"

To paraphrase the writer there are two kinds of love. The one that is unconditional and the one that is conditional. Many of us in Somali culture had grandparents who went through arranged marriage. The question arises as to if they actually had conditional love or unconditional love? My thoughts are most of them had conditional love/responsible love. The ones who were blessed had unconditional love.

If most of you haven't noticed, the diaspora Somalis divorce rates are skyrocketing. You would logically conclude there is something wrong with such a picture if in the past there was a 90-95 retention rate in the marriages why such a drastic change? You would think in the west they would have more of a freedom to choose their love but instead their marriage is based on choice;warmth? xtra income? Children? Security? Immigration status?

A Milestone

As of this moment I am a year older. I don't feel any different than I felt yesterday except more resolute to make sense out of life. I worked a nine hour shift at work and as I walked out the door my phone rung. It was my sister.

"Where are you?" she queried.
"Just getting out the door"
"You think you can make it to the theatre in half an hour?" she continued
"I am tired plus I need to go work out."
"Come on mayn, its your birthday and you worked all day. Skip the workout and come to the movie, I already got you a ticket."
"Aight I be der in a 10 mins with my flipping uniform"
"Salaams"

I turned on the car and waited for it to warm up. It was a dreary day perfect for my mood. It had snowed as I drove into the parking lot this morning which meant it was going to be a long day at the pharmacy. I had an awful night of weird dreams that consisted of a collage of men I held dear to my heart. I had tossed and turned, sweated and shivered as finally my alarm gave me reprieve sometime around 7 am. I was in no means in the mood to deal with guests who needed to be mothered. Grabbing a starbucks I begun my day quietly.

Backing out of the parking spot I turned the car West towards the Regal 20 theatre. I felt empty for some reason even though I had my health and my family by me. I turned my brain off as my exit came up. Calling my sister I let her know I was close by and she should avail herself by the doors. As I walked in my cuz popped out of the corner and gave me a hug and a kiss wishing me a happy birthday. She steered me away from my sister and asked me what I wanted to snack on while I watched the movie. I was on a diet and couldn't eat any carbs but I ordered nachos with cheese and jalapenos. Sitting back in my seat I took off my jacket and dipped my hand in the jalapenos. Knowing instinctively the bitter/spicy taste that they would elicit from me, my mouth watered. The movie I was being subjected to was Madea family reunion. I had watched the play and was interested to see what twist Tyler Perry in the movie.

The movie was funny as hell and had me slapping my thighs and clapping. At times I got emotional as the characters fell in love and revealed secrets close to their hearts. Pretty soon it was time to go. As I slipped my jacket on I flipped my phone open. There was a text message waiting for me. It read:

I breath alone, Allah willed me to.
My heart beats, Allah willed me to.
I thank Allah for I love you.
Lets marry and thank Allah for He is the most merciful and gracious.

My heart stilled. There was a whirlpool in my body and someone had turned on the switch. I walked quickly to the car wanting to outrun my life but I didn't succeed. It was stuck to me. As I watch the raindrops fall my fingers dialed the numbers that were burned into my heart, mind and soul. A groggy voice answered,"Hello?". My voice abandoned me. Why did I call? I tried with effort to say something back.. .............................. .... Hello, hi or something. Instead my body was racked with sobs. Tears welled up in my eyes as I fought for control. Why did you love me? Why do I love you so much yet can't make a simple decision like marrying you? Why am I a coward? Why can't you leave and find someone who deserves you? "Baby please wipe your tears I can't do them for you but you know if I was there I would kiss them away." You make everything right and I come and destroy it. What are you doing around such a destructive force? "Baby please I am begging you...........Where are you? Talk to me. Stop crying honey."I have to go, Xafsa is walking back to the car. "Baby talk to me. Are you ok? Where are you? Let me talk to Xafsa". I am fine I am sorry I woke you up I will talk to you tomorrow. "Ok I will call you in the morning please keep your phone close by otherwise you know I will hound you at home/Work/sister's/friend's". I will, I promise. "Salaams I love you". I don't. "I know you do". How do you know? "Cause I live in your heart. Drive safely back home." Ok.Salaams.

As I lay my head back I wiped my tears away and plastered a smile on my face. Xafsa clambered into the car and proceeded to talk about the movie. I faked my way through it, quick to point out my favorite scenes. Inside I was screaming for an answer to my problems but I knew no one was listening. No one at all.

Where does the buck stop?

The day looked long from the get go. Picking himself nimbly from his chair, Bashir moved towards the window. The buildings looked small from his stand point almost like a Lego set. He remembered the first time he had accepted his position. Standing at the precipice of greatness, he had requested the office that he now stood in. A person who walked in from the dark interior of the receptionist office would be greeted with a regal view of the Manhattan skyline. From his pinnacle he could see the many color changes that the Seagram building took, the elegance of Chrysler building and off course his favorite hang out the Rockefeller center. Bashir mused as he looked to the horizon for an answer to the restlessness that permeated his very being today. As he lost himself in his own world he thought he saw an answer emerging from the smog that constantly hung around the city. He could see it take form and as he reached out to grasp it, the phone rung! Illusion dissipating, Bashir turned crossly to his desk. He remembered acutely telling Suzon that he didn’t want any interruptions.

“I thought I said no interruptions!” He snapped.
“Oo maxaa dhacee?” replied the demure voice of a female.
“Oh its you.”
“Were you expecting someone else?” She asked.
“No, I am just busy and wasn’t expecting any interruptions.”
“Ok. I guess I best get back to being ‘unbusy’.” She retorted and hung up.


Bashir couldn’t be bothered today. He didn’t feel like dealing with anyone especially not her. Things have been strained between them for the past month and maybe she might be part of his restless nature today. He sat back down on his desk and set about drowning in his tasks. Bashir methodically struck each task off his list as the day went. “I am off, is there anything else you needed before I leave?” asked Suzon as she stuck her head through his door. “No thanks,” said Bashir grumpily. Suzon smiled and closed the door gently behind her. She didn’t know what was eating him today but whatever it was, she was just happy to get out of his hair. Bashir sat back in his chair and weighed his options. Should he go back to the house or call up Farax and go get something to eat? Reaching out his long fingers, he dialed Farax’s number. There were five rings, after which Farax’s aussie accent informed him that he should leave a message. Hanging up Bashir got on his feet and put on his jacket. On his way down to the building garage he went through the pleasantries of saying bye to the few workers who were burning the midnight candle. Unlocking his new Aspen Chrysler he threw his jacket and bag in the seat next to him. Popping in his Maxwell CD he leaned his head back on the seat. Why did he feel so out of sorts today? Shaking his head to dislodge the pessimistic thoughts he gunned his engine.

The traffic wasn’t snarled as it usually is but that was probably due to the four day weekend starting today. Most people had already set out earlier during the day for their road trips. He was partly envious that he couldn’t just up and leave anymore. He had things and people depending on him and so he was chained to this city. Bashir turned into the driveway and opened the garage door with his remote. Grabbing his bag and jacket he made his way to the kitchen. Something smelled nice as he took off his shoes. As he set his jacket on the kitchen hook and his bag on the floor he stepped onto the kitchen floor but instead of cold linoleum he felt a soft sensation. Reaching over to turn on the lights he heard the soft notes of Azyet playing. That’s weird he didn’t remember leaving the surround system on. Curious he didn’t turn on the light instead he walked cautiously into the house. As he walked by the dining room he saw the table set as usual except this time there was a feast on the table and candles around it. Curiosity completely piqued he rounded the corner to the bedroom. The bedroom has soft lights and candles all over. There were rose petals on the bed and floor and on his bed there was his robe with a note attached that there was a surprise waiting for him in the bathroom.

Bashir recognized the writing to be that of Amal. The cursive B of his name was unmistakable. He climbed out of his clothes and wrapped the robe around his slim waist. Walking tentatively to the bathroom he saw the bathtub was full of bubbles and the sweet intoxicating smell of lavender and jasmine hung in the air. Barry white’s baritone voice serenaded the candle light to perform a dance that enticed his visual senses. Smiling to himself, Bashir climbed into the tub. The water temperature was perfect and on the side of the tub sat his cigar, ashtray and cigar clipper but no lighter. Just as he was about to climb out of his tub to get the lighter he heard before he saw the flicker of the lighter. Amal’s face radiated as she watched him puff life into his cigar. She then lay a small kiss on his forehead and told him that she is going to warm up dinner while he relaxes in his bath. Laying back into the bathtub Bashir forgot all his worries of his day. This was certainly a nice surprise. Amal was on residency rotation at the Mt. Sinai hospital and rarely came home these past nights. They had been married for one year and the past month had being rocky due mainly to her being busy with her career.

As his body relaxed, Bashir reminisced about the day of their marriage. Amal had being adamant about not getting married in a huge ceremony but Bashir had seen through her excuses. He had gone ahead and done all the preparations and on that fateful day Amal had being unavailable. Everyone was in on the hoax and when her cousins had gone to pick her up she was not at her apartment. Bashir had begun to get worried when at 6 pm there still was no one picking up her cell phone. Calling the police he had being informed that maybe he should wait 24 hours before calling in the calvary. The police assured him that Amal had probably got cold feet. Bashir was worried sick and the whole affair was cancelled. He had roamed the streets by her apartment, had called Mt. Sinai and eventually he just sat at her apartment stoop waiting in the cold. Around midnight Amal had calmly walked up to the apartment only to be shocked to see Bashir asleep on her stoop. She shook him awake anxious to know what made him sleep on her stoop. Bashir remembered hugging her tightly and close to him scared that he was dreaming. He remembered planting kisses all over her face saying over and over that she should never go too far from him. Amal calmly took him into the apartment and explained that she had gone to visit an old friend who was dying and that she had left her cell phone at home since she was awaken from sleep by her friend’s family member. When she heard what Bashir wanted to do that day she felt so bad that she called the sheikh’s number and woke him from sleep telling him it was an emergency. She had then proceeded to get dressed in a beautiful gold dirac and wore simple jewelry. Taking his hands she drove through the streets to the sheikh’s house. There at precisely 1:20 am they were married in the eyes of God.


Bashir never regretted marrying her. She was always there for him. Tonight she obviously had left her work to be with him. She always put him ahead of most things and he had gotten used to it. The past month he had been acting like a spoilt brat because for once she let her work play a bigger role in her life. He couldn’t blame her though. She had worked hard to be where she was. She was a smart woman among her other attributes. As he climbed out of the tepid water, Bashir walked towards the dining room. He stood at the doorway looking at her as she flitted between the kitchen and dining room laying the dishes down on the table. She looked up as she made another trip to the kitchen and smiled. Bashir sat at the table and waited like a child to be told to eat. Amal sat by him and proceeded to serve him when Bashir stopped her. He held her hands and planted a soft kiss on her wrist and thanked her for being his wife. He apologized for being difficult at which point she shushed him and told him not to worry. They had both let things come in between their marriage. She placed her hand lovingly on his face and told him to just relax and forget about his worries at least for tonight. Tonight it was all about him and her……………………

Collection of my fav. poems.

In the Depths of Solitude

I exist in the depths of solitude
pondering my true goal
Trying 2 find peace of mind
and still preserve my soul
CONSTANTLY yearning 2 be accepted
and from all receive respect
Never compromising but sometimes risky
and that is my only regret
A young heart with an old soul
How can I be in the depths of solitude
when there R 2 inside of me
This Duo within me causes
the perfect opportunity
2 learn and live twice as fast
as those who accept simplicity


Sometimes I cry

Sometimes when I'm alone
I cry because I'm on my own
The tears I cry R bitter and warm
They flow with life but take no form
I cry because my heart is torn
and I find it difficult 2 carry on
If I had an ear 2 confide in
I would cry among my treasured friends
But who do u know that stop that long
to help another to carry on
The world moves fast and it would rather pass u by
than 2 stop and c what makes u cry
Its painful and sad and sometimes I cry
and no one cares about why

Only 4 the Righteous

I'm down with strictly Dope "So"
That means I'm more than u can handle
"Hot" I'm hotter than the wax from a candle
"Him" that's Roc he's my microphone companion
"Lyrics" full of knowledge, truth and understanding
"Hobbies" rapping is my only recreation
"Retire" you must be on some kind of medication
"Why" because I'll never loosen up my mic grip
"Drugs" never cuz I'm living on the right tip
"Sex" only with my girl because I love her
"Babies" impossible I always use a rubber
"Bored" rarely cuz I'm keeping myself busy
"Scratch" nah I leave the cutting up 2 Dize
"Dize?" yeh that's my D.J. he's the greatest
"Word" nah he's paying me 2 say this
"The mind" is something that I cultivate and treasure
"Thanks" you're welcome and besides it was my Pleasure

If I Fail

If in my quest 2 achieve my goals
I stumble or crumble and lose my soul
Those that knew me would easily co-sign
There was never a life as hard as mine
No father-no money-no chance and no guide
I only follow my voice inside
if it guides me wrong and I do not win
I'll learn from mistakes and try 2 achieve

What Is It that I Search 4

I know not what I search 4
But I know I have yet 2 find it,
Because it is invisible 2 the eye
My heart must search 4 it blinded.

And if by chance I find it,
Will I know my mission is achieved?
Can one come 2 conclusions,
Before the question is conceived?

Just as no one knows
what lies beyond the shore.
I will never find the answer 2
what it is that I search 4.

And 2morrow

Today is filled with anger
Fueled with hidden hate
Scared of being outcast
Afraid of common fate
Today is built on tragedies
which no one wants to face
Nightmares 2 humanities
and morally disgraced
Tonite is filled with rage
Violence in the air
Children bred with ruthlessness
Because no one at home cares
Tonite I lay my head down
But the pressure never stops
gnawing at my sanity
content when I am dropped
But 2morrow I c change
A chance 2 build anew
Built on spirit, intent of heart
and ideals based on truth
And 2morrow I wake with second wind
And strong because of pride
2 know I fought with all my heart 2 keep my dream alive


These poems were written by Tupac Shakur and below you can hear me reading them out loud. I hope they touch you like they did me.Enjoy

Chance meeting

Mohamed moved his pool stick in line with the cue ball as he calculated the angle to hit the ball and put his friend Salim out of his misery. Executing his shot perfectly he turned to his friend with a grin plastered on his face. “Man, I told you ……….you can't beat this,” He said as he presented himself with flourish. “Bugger off mate!” snarled Salim. Mohamed and Salim have been friends since standard two and they were forever trying to best each other. Come to think of it, Mohamed recalled those were the very circumstances under which they forged their friendship. Salim and he were the only two contestants from their school left in the state swimming championship. Mohamed had won the race by a stroke and Salim had thrown a tantrum till Mohamed had gone over and handed his trophy to him saying he had being a good competitor. The rest shall we say was history. Looking quickly at his watch, Salim turned to Mohamed to take his leave.

“What you up to after this?” asked Salim.
“Nothing man, just gonna go kick back in the crib and work on my coursework. Why you asking?” came the reply.
“You want to help me out. I got to go over to Ealing and deal with this thing,”said Salim whilst cocking his head. This usually meant one thing to Mohamed. It meant there was more to the story than Salim was willing to let on.
“Sure man,” agreed Mohamed.


As they drove towards their destination, Mohamed mused as to what was Salim up to. He normally would badger him till he got the information but this time he sensed there was something else. They talked about school and women, their two favorite topics. Salim as usual was the more level headed one. He had being married now for 6 months and he believed he was an expert in the field. Mohamed didn’t think he would ever be able to take that step. He liked the way his life was. He had choices and there is nothing more a black person likes than a buffet. Salim parked the car next to a beautiful house with an even more beautiful garden. It looked like Mother Nature was in full swing in this part of the world. Following Salim to the door, Mohamed wondered who lived in the house and what they were doing there. “Salaam Aleykum Fartun,” greeted Salim as he was beckoned into the house. Mohamed looked up to greet their host but his words got lodged in his throat.

She stood tall for a woman. Her eyes were set apart with a short cute button nose in between it. Her lips were the color of tarty pink grapefruit. She was wearing a turquoise colored dirac and her figure was admirable. She stared at Mohamed as she moved to close the door. She recognized him……….darn it, thought Mohamed. Salim who hadn’t noticed the interchange of looks between them, walked on into the living room. The house suddenly erupted in screams and giggles as two girls ran to hug Salim’s legs. Mohamed kept his distance from the scene completely unsure of what was happening. Who was this woman to Salim for that matter who were these kids to Salim? Fartun walked past him to usher the kids into the living room all the while apologizing for the mess the house was in. Salim sat back in one of the ottoman chairs as the kids swarmed around him, asking him question after question. Mohamed sat across from his friend aghast at what he was seeing and trepidation set in. Would she tell Salim they had met before? Was this Salim’s other woman? Sensing his friend’s gaze on him Salim looked up, “I guess I owe you an explaination.”


Fartun was his sister in law. He came over to check up on her once a week and more recently every couple days. She was a mother to the two girls and a wife to a man who didn’t deserve her. Her husband practically lived next door at his mother’s house and never came to see her or the kids. He didn’t provide for her except paying for the bills. Her fridge was constantly empty and she had resorted to selling her gold to feed her kids. Her sister (Salim’s wife) has asked Salim to look into her sister every week and help out. They were in the process of getting Fartun freed from her marriage. It was a sad case and Mohamed had a new found respect for this tall woman. Fartun played the gracious host keeping up the small talk and fixing them tea and biscuits. Her children, Kamar and Kay, were excited at the prospect of having two men to play with. They seemed to lack male presence in their life and Mohamed could empathize. After half an hour or so Salim asked Fartun for her grocery list and told her that Mohamed and him will follow her list to the letter and even arrange it in her cupboards. Fartun smiled and told him that she likes to touch and pick her own vegetables; she couldn’t trust a man to do that for her. They reached a consensus. Mohamed would take her to the grocery store while Salim babysat the girls. This proved to be agreeable to all parties except Mohamed but he didn’t voice his opposition due to curiosity taking priority.

As Mohamed got out of the parking spot with Fartun as a passenger, he noticed she was wringing her fingers on her lap. Her fingers were long and delicate with barely any jewelry to accentuate her beauty. Mohamed remembered the first time he saw her. He thought she was an apparition from his dreams. She was walking away from the goldsmith and seemed to be preoccupied with her own thoughts. Mohamed being the masterful charmer sidled close to her. He introduced himself exclaiming that he couldn’t help but to notice that she was sent to earth to torment his very soul. He put on his best show and all she did was blink fixatedly at him. “I’m sorry you must have me confused with someone else. I am a single mother with mouths of children to feed and no time to waste on a romp in the sac plus I have a feeling you wouldn’t know what to do with a real woman if she fell on your lap,” said she stiffly as she turned on her heel and left him with his mouth agape. Mohamed had never being turned down by a woman yet and this left him bare. He had consoled himself saying that she was a single mother anyway what good was she. Another man had her and deemed her unworthy. Women these days!

Thinking back to that day Mohamed felt awful for thinking all those thoughts about her. The silence in the car spoke volumes and pretty soon Mohamed was sure it would rise to a crescendo. Turning on the CD he selected track number three on the mix CD. Craig David’s sultry voice filled the car as he talked of not missing your water till the well runs dry. Almost inaudible she started humming to the tune and Mohamed joined in with lyrics. After a couple minutes Fartun jumped in too and they sang the song till the end. When the track ended they laughed and the ice was broken. Fartun apologized for being rude to him in the streets and Mohamed apologized for hitting on her but that he meant the compliments wholeheartedly. The conversation flowed like a spring bubbling over rocks that pretty soon Fartun confided her life story to Mohamed. How she had married her husband because her mother had asked it of her. How he was an inconsiderate oaf that lets his mother control his finances and when she questioned this he had called her uneducated and a burden. That was the beginning of the split and it practically went downhill after that. Mohamed kept silent through her tale and didn’t say anything in response for he didn’t feel it was his place to say anything. They did the shopping and got done within half an hour. Within that time frame Fartun got to know Mohamed and vice versa. It felt so natural to talk to her and no topic seemed off limits for them. Mohamed was almost sad when he turned into her driveway. Mohamed grabbed the heavy bags and set out for the kitchen. Salim helped Mohamed as Fartun got the girls ready for bed.

Mohamed commended his friend for his kindness and told him that he would like to help. Salim looked at him in surprise and smiled. He knew his friend a little too well. He knew Mohamed was taken by Fartun and he couldn’t blame him. She was a smart, funny, kind and had a heart of gold. Any man would be lucky to have her. Fartun walked in before he could ask Mohamed what he thought of Fartun’s situation. She thanked them both and invited them to stay over for dinner. They both declined the invitation and begged off to go attend to their own lives. Mohamed walked out with Salim and as he walked by Fartun he handed her a slip of paper with his number. Salim saw the exchange in the corner of his eyes and pretended to busy himself with turning the car on. During the drive back to the pool hall to pick up Mohamed’s car Salim talked about everything but Fartun. Mohamed on the other hand thought about nothing but Fartun. He was perplexed as to why he gave her his number. He usually made it a rule not to deal with women who had children. But Fartun was a different sort of woman with her there were no boundaries, he could envision things he could do for her and to her………………………………

My neglected corner of sports

Seriously I am just glad its Friday but I guess owning to tradition I have to confess that its extra special Friday. Its the friday before the Superbowl and I got to say I ain't even tuned in to what the TV is saying because I am just not interested this time. Superbowl 40 is between Pitts. Steelers and Seattle Seahawks. These two teams were a suprise for many to be in contension for the championship and for me more than anything. Unlike many I didn't think the Colts were going to make it but I thought for sure the broncos and panthers. Watching the NFC and AFC I was utterly disgusted by display of Plummer and Delhomme. They were not in their usual form, misreading coverage and the interceptions were a constant aspect in their game that night. Enough of my griping they didn't make it to the Superbowl so what? So I am stuck watching two teams that I think are undeserving of the honor. For Steelers who have won four Superbowl titles and making their fifth appearance to the championship, this is a road travelled before but for the Seahawks its new terrain.

Steelers astounded me. They beat Carson Palmer,Rudi Johnson, Peyton Manning, Edgerrin James, Jake Plummer, Marvin Harrison et al to make it to the SuperBowl. That is impressive in it of itself. Lets start at the QB Ben Roethlisberger, he boosts a 124.8 passer rating and 17 TDs. He will be one of the youngest QB to win the Superbowl if Steelers win. Next person of note in the steelers line up has got to be no one but Joey Porter. He seems to have an aptitude for left tackles and he not shy about it. His speed is another dimension to his game and gives it the edge he needs to create pressure on QB's. Last but not least we have T Polamalu. This exotic long haired safety is all over the field. Though he is on the injury list many believe he will still be playing come Sunday. The game wouldn't be the same without him. All in all the notables mentioned plus the Steelers 3-4 defense formation is what the Steelers game is about.

Seahawks on the other hand are the underdogs coming into this Superbowl. Most people contend that they didn't have much of a lineup to contend with during regular season. At the head of their game we have QB Matt Hasselbeck. What to note is that against a 3-4 defence formations Matt's passer rate dropped to 58.0. The other person to look for is Shaun Alexander, seahawk's running back. I don't know what to say about this team because I tended to be ignorant of them when they played. Advice though would be that they shouldn't give time for the Steelers defence to rotate and reform. Keep the game fast.


In other news, forecasts for Pistons to actually get to the famed 70 game win during regular season are being thrown around. I love the pistons and I will have great faith in them always and I really do think they will be able to do it. But only if they don't let up on their game once they get home court advantage. Hell I might just drive to Auburn Hills to watch them if they get close to their goal. NBA All Star teams has being announced for the East:Allen Iverson, Jermaine O'Neal, Lebron James, Dwayne Wade and the Big Man (Shaq). The West boosts Kobe Bryant, Yao Ming, Tracy Mcgrady, Steve Nash and Tim Duncan. Definately a great group of talented individuals, no chance of Kobe getting that 81 points with this many talented people around him. (I keed I keed). Hope Jermaine actually gets well quick with the pacers losing fire with artest gone and now him. Will try to keep up with sports world though sometimes I get caught up with other things. Happy SuperBowl Weekend to all!!

Reform

Recently in the media I have noticed this word used in conjunction with Islam a lot. At first I didn’t pay any mind to it till one day, while I was reading a transcript of Khalid Yasin’s interview with John Cleary, I quaked at the word. Reform originally meant ‘restore the original form of something’. An example to illustrate this, as far as I can go back historically, is Protestant Reformation that occurred circa 16th century. Martin Luther at the time was at the head of this reformation. He nailed his 95 theses on the door of a church in Wittenburg, Germany. The movement occurred all over Europe but more particularly in Germany, where the princes were pre-occupied with a threat of invasion from Muslims to notice the unrest in their fiefdoms. The reformation was supposed to restore the church to its purity and from this usage we can clearly see that reformation was used in a sense of decline rather than progress. This view prevailed for most of that century to about the 17th century. From the 18th century onwards reform begun to mean something new. It now meant progress and a change for the better. The users of the word ranged from the moderate leftist and later neoliberalist.

To get to why the word was causing me tremors in my chest, you would just have to look at the difference in meaning. The media uses this word when explaining what Khalid Yasin wants; Sharia Law to prevail and Islam to go back to the golden age of Medina.

“What we want in a society is where everyone has access to the resources of the society, we want a society where there is a reasonable coexistence, peaceful coexistence. Here in a society we want progress, in a society we don’t want the imposition of a class system; in a society we want to know that the law is equally applied to everyone, and we go on and on and on. And I say that there is a historical paradigm. OK now if the Christians or Western civilisation say that they have a historical paradigm of a nearly ideal state, I mean Socrates, Plato and all of these guys, they kind of articulated things towards it, but they never reached such an ideal republican state. But we have a historical paradigm, not only just in the person of the Prophet peace and blessing upon him, but in that Medina state. Now how long it lasted is not the issue, the fact that it is a paradigm, so an apple is an apple, however long it stays on the tree, it’s still an apple, whether it falls on the ground and rots it’s still an apple. So I say we have a historical paradigm and for all arguments’ sake, we can look at that and then compare it with other examples.”


The media also uses the word when speaking of Irshad Manji’s book, The trouble with Islam. It is used to explain Indonesia’s political party of Liberal Islam Network, Morocco’s new revision of Islamic family codes and the new group that is cropping up The queer muslims. My question arises as to whose definition should we follow and for that fact does Islam even need reformation?

In other news, the Muslim Ummah unite in boycotting Danish products due to Jyllands-Posten publishing 12 cartoons depicting Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). Starting from Saudis to Libya and now Egypt. It is actually heartening to see this unity but sad to see it took such drastic circumstances for it to occur. I don't know if anyone has actually seen the cartoons but I am wondering if its unwise for me to post the link. I will post it until I find out for sure.Aside from pulling their ambassador from Denmark,Kuwait pulled Arla's (a danish company) products from the shelves of their largest chains. The newspaper apparently asked for cartoons depicting the Prophet (PBUH) in response to the fact that a writer couldn't find an illustrator/picture of the Prophet for his book. No one would do it so the newspaper took it upon itself to stand up for freedom of speech. I fail to see how taking a stab at someone's religion could be used as advocacy for freedom of speech. Islam is already getting enough of a bad reputation from the media, particularly the west, without having to add blasphemy to it. Is it testing of waters that we are seeing? I am inclined to think yes. Its hard to believe that a public medium like a newspaper wouldn't have reviewed and doublechecked what consequences of publishing those cartoons would be. Maybe its a case of Monkey See, Monkey Do. I for one am very happy that muslims decided to stand up because enough is enough. We have to draw the line somewhere and if not when it comes to our Prophet (PBUH) then when? Inshallah may this be a start of a unified nation of Islam under one banner.

How can a man be so cold?

He walked towards her with a menacing look in his eyes. Nafisa braced for the worst. She got into the fetal position just as he started pounding on her back. He was merciless, calling her names and blaming her for everything. “Please, stop I am sorry, I am sorry. I won’t do it again. Please, I love you baby,” Nafisa begged as she prayed that this time he will relent. After about 20 mins he stepped back from her like an artist stepping back from his masterpiece. Nafisa didn’t move in fear that it would provoke him. She cowered and tried to keep her sniffles as silent as she could. There were no tears present in her eyes; she had finished shedding them a few years back. His eyes raked over her body as he spit on her and walked out.


Nafisa waited a few minutes after she heard him close the door to their room before she moved. She crawled on all her fours towards the adjacent bathroom in her daughter’s room. Closing the door silently behind her she pulled herself up. Her eyes were swollen to the size of kiwis, her lips were bleeding and not to mention the bruises evident under her tanktop. She stared back at the woman in the mirror. Her eyes were dead; fitting for a punching bag she thought. She proceeded to wash her face and cleaning herself. She had to go pick up Salma from her friend and she didn’t want to hear another lecture about leaving Awil. He was the only man who loved her. If she left, where would she go? No man out there would want to be saddled with another man’s child not to mention Awil would never let her leave. He would rather kill her than see her leave. It was fear and stability that chained her to her situation.

Driving up to Kadra’s house she double-checked her face in the rear-view mirror. She looked passable except for the swollen eyes which she can explain were due to no sleep and crying. She was sure she could cruise through the questioning by claiming a death in the family. As Nafisa walked up to the door she heard shrieks of laughter coming from the living room. The curtains were partly drawn so she could see the scenario being played out in the house. Salma was being chased around by Abdirahman, Kadra’s husband, as Kadra kept coxing both of them to stop horsing around and come get dinner. Abdirahman kept making cute scary sounds that sent Salma into shrieks of laughter. Kadra didn’t have any children. She and Abdirahman had been married for four years which was as long as Nafisa and Awil, but they were unable to have any children. Nafisa stood by the window looking in at the image of a perfect family and she felt a knot in her throat. Looking away she walked to the front of the door and sat down on the steps. What was she doing? Salma deserved a family that was loving and caring not constantly seeing her being beaten up by Awil. Nafisa sat there at the doorstep for a good half hour as she listened to the laughter and conversation going on in the house. As she got up she knew what to do……………………

Confessions of girl's night out

Saludiin sat staring at the picture that sat in front of him. Even with his eyes closed he could describe it in detail. The proud nose, the blazing brown eyes, the shaped eyebrows and off course those lips that he fell madly in love with the first time he saw them. He closed his eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him. Life was unfair and more so to him than anyone out there.


"I have a confession Saludiin, can you please sit down and listen," came the request from her lips. He remembered the day clearly. They had made reservations at La Bouche and were going to a jazz concert after. She looked extra beautiful that day. Her soft, black hair was in layers cascading down her back. She wore a simple black dress with a metallic coin belt enveloping her wide hips. She looked seriously at him with her almond eyes and patted the sit next to her. Saludiin sat down obediently taking her hands in his to reassure her that nothing she said would matter to him. Then the tale begun.


Sally had invited her to visit an old friend who had just gotten a new position at his job. Dressed modestly she picked Sally up and following the directions had driven up to a cul de sac tucked away at the base of the hilly suburb. It looked beautiful with stuccato tiles and warm colors to accent the spanish influence in the country. Walking in after Sally, she had extended her hands in greeting to the tall man standing in the foyer. He looked like he had stepped out of the GQ magazine and spoke with a slight accent as he introduced himself as Fredrick Klaus. The small talk was easily accomplished as they were served appetizers in the drawing room. Mr Klaus was apparently a bio-engineer who had to work hard in his life to get where he is. He came from a poor background and was the first in his family to get a college degree. He was forever determined never to go back to the poverty that had littered his childhood. She didn't think he ever would because he had a ruthless look in his eyes. It gave her the chills. The eyes told a lot about the soul they belonged to. Mr. Klaus, even though, looked and seemed charming and kind, she didn't doubt that he would turn to whole other person when crossed.


As they got called into dinner, Sally and her sat on opposite sides of the table each on one side of their kind host. The evening progressed well and Sally kept downing the wine spritzers. Pretty soon she was drunk and was in no condition to go anywhere. Mr. Klaus dismissed his staff for the evening and set out to clear out the table himself. She felt awkward with her friend laying on the couch in a drunk stupor. She got up and graciously helped Mr. Klaus to clear the table. Following his straight, ramrod back into the kitchen, she set out to figure out which cabinet door was the dishwasher. Mr. Klaus continued picking the dishes and bringing them back to the kitchen. On the third run as he walked into the kitchen with the last of dishes he brushed by her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat as she moved instinctively. He didn't seem to notice what he did because he pointed out a cabinet door at the far corner of the kitchen as the dishwasher. She proceeded to load up the dishwasher as he cleared the food off the plates and placed food items in the fridge. He must have gotten done with his task much faster than she thought because next thing she felt were hands placed on each side of her hips. She stopped loading the dishwasher and turned around to face a grinning Mr. Klaus. He spoke of how he had being watching her the whole night and that he was attracted to her. She tried to gauge how far the exit was from her standpoint but couldn't see over or even around Mr. Klaus. Fredrick kept moving closer to her until her back was pressed into the side of the cabinets. He let his hands caress the sides of her arms as he exclaimed and ahhhhed on how soft she felt. Her heart was pounding and her breath slowed to almost a stop. She explained that she was engaged to someone and that she was not interested in him. She also apologized if she give him any ideas during the evening. He leaned close to her and cupped her face in his hands. She turned her face to the side and Fredrick kissed her cheek gently. He then stepped back and gave her space to escape.


She now sat staring at Saludiin. Her tale was over. During the tale Saludiin let go of her hands, the hands he had so lovingly held a few minutes ago. He got up from the chair and started pacing. He couldn't understand why these things happen to her all the time. This was not the first time. Is it something she does? Is it something she says? He couldn't help but to blame her. He had never had these problems with his previous girls. She was so beautiful on the outside but her inside was what pulled everyone to her. She was sweet and considerate. She loved helping people and was so social. These traits made her a gem but they also got her in spots of trouble. He couldn't be around her. He needed to think. He watched her face crumple as he told her what he thought of the situation. He watched as tears threatned to spill over as he told her that no man would do anything sexually oriented without being given a physical/verbal/emotional go ahead. He apologized for canceling the evening on the account of feeling unwell and he walked out.


Saludiin now thought about her. He knew he hurt her but what she told him hurt him more. He couldn't bare to be without her but he had to find a way to understand why men do things like that around her. He didn't want to punch a guy for looking at her everytime they went out but the way things were going he was going to have to. He didn't know what to do. He prayed he would find a solution soon because he knew she was too precious to let go. He picked up his phone and dialled a number...............................

Back into School Mode

Back to school is always a blessing for me. I use it as a time to concentrate on me and forget about the world. My life revolves around my books and assignments not to mention keeping up with extra-curriculum activities around the school. Spring is in the air and for the first time in a long time I feel settled. I am hoping this will be a start of a trend. This being the end of the school year I know I am going to be losing some good friends to the work force as they graduate and set out to find themselves in the real world.


I met Dee on my way to the bookstore. He was the only colored person in sight but I could barely recognize him. He had cut his braids and he looked good. I always pushed him to cut his braids and I was so proud that he finally did it. As customary for us we hugged when we got close to each other. He had tears in his eyes due to the cold biting wind blowing around us but that didn't stop his smile from reaching his eyes. I mentioned the tear and he brushed it off as being joy of seeing me. We caught up a little bit. I asked him about his upcoming graduation and his credit load this semester. I reminded him of last semester when he nearly had a breakdown due to taking a lot of credits. He shrugged it off and said he was looking forward to graduating and moving on to bigger and better things. He is an economics major and he is planning to be an investment banker. Dee was moving to Minneapolis with his girlfriend when May came around. I was already missing him and he hadn't left. I would miss him sneaking behind me and giving me a hug. I would miss his crazy antics like pretending he had a walkie with him everytime he saw one of us doing something dumb. Memories of him calling me a pimp when we were at the hip hop dance, Me teaching him to cook bariis (the swahili style) with chicken, him talking me/forcing me to go to a party 45 mins away and all the crazy stories of how he was two timing his female companions, pretending he was awfully sorry when he was not. All in all I would miss him as a friend and big brother.

Hanna Banana is transfering to good ol' chitown next year. She is pursing her dream of being an elementary teacher. This girl turned me into dear Abby in the couple of years I have known her. She has wide innocent eyes and is soft spoken and respectful. It was a joy to work side by side with her in our organization. She is definately a gem and I hope she gets all she hopes for.

I might be moving too next year but I am unsure. If I get into the program I hope and pray for then I will definately be packing up and leaving. I have a long road ahead of me then but I am sure I will meet plenty of people along the way who will help and some who will deter my progress. Listening to Fleetwood Mac I feel good about this year and Inshallah it shall be prosperous. My roomates will remain friends for a while and off course I plan to keep contact with them otherwise I know they will beat the BLACK off my ass. I love them to death and I hope they feel the same about me. I tried sneaking into the apartment the night I drove in from home. Patricia wasn't fooled she heard the key turn in the lock and poked her head out of her room, tackling me with my bags in one motion. She screamed and hug me repeating over and over "My roomie is back." I guess she missed me with a reaction like that. I still have work to do on that girl and in the little time I have I plan to accomplish changing her mind about the fact that she can do anything she set her mind too and that black is a race and haitian is ethinicity.


Got to get back to studying for my national exams. This should be an interesting semester indeed. With my credit load and the programs that we plan to do this year as an organization, I am sure it will be memorable for those leaving and those staying. As they say there is no better way of leaving than with a bang!

Amores Perros

Being a fan of foreign movies someone suggested a great movie for me to watch. The movie's name is the subject of my post:Amores Perros meaning Love's a bitch. The movie lasted about two and a half hours but it was worth it. The plot was more than expected, It was absolutely thrilling. Octavio loved his sister in law and envied his brother for having her. His brother on the other hand had a love hate relationship with his wife Susanna. Then there was Valeria, the model, who after an accident went into a depressive state. She was having an affair with a married man (Daniel) who left his wife and children for her. Another character of note of course was the Saddam Hussein look-alike, Chivo. Chivo left his family to go right the world by enlisting as a guerilla. He served time in prison and lost his family in one sweep. He is spotted throughtout the movie as a wino. In a way he is the main character I would like to think but the stories are all interconnected. Chivo wants his daughter to know he exists so he eliminates the man who took his place when he left;nameless stepdad. Chivo then proceeds to hang out infront of his daughter's house and breaking into it to have a glimpse at her life. You have to watch this movie seriously. I am definately going to get a copy of it as soon as I can find it otherwise its amazon for me.

Speaking of which I also would like to recommend a couple of other foreign movies. Amelie is a feel good movie for everyone. The plot centers around Amelie who helps out everyone in her own unique way and ends up falling in love with Nino. Nino is also a unique character and you end up wishing for him to be the soulmate for Amelie throughout the movie. If you want a raw movie that will raise your hackles and you will love to hate the characters then you need to watch City of Gods. This movie succeeded in reminding me of the desolute and poverty that ranks to high heaven within the third world cities. I felt in tune with what the characters were saying and going through. The final movie I would recommend would have to be Dias de Santiago. Warning though before you watch this movie. If you are prone to being depressed this movie is not for you. The movie has a depressive cloud over it. Santiago is a war hero come back home to find nothing. His wife doesn't understand him and he can't find a job. He is paranoid and sees everything from a different light. He struggles to keep to normalacy. One scene that comes to mind is when his ex-military friends get together and decide to pool their brain power and think of some way of earning a living. They throw the idea of robbing a bank in the air and try to sell it to Santiago but he shoots it down. The parting shots of this movie leaves you bare, at least with me it did. I could have understood either path that Santiago would have taken in this case.

Enough playing Ebert for now. I think foreign movies have a lot to offer us. They are much more realistic and are not into romancing life as it is. No Just like Mike, no pretty woman and no rebound. Definately check out the sundance film lists when they are released, I am sure you will find a couple nice movies in there that will make you think instead of being duped into thinking life is a bed of roses; there are thorns hidden within that bed. By the by Eid Mubarak to everyone.

Is there an end in sight?

Listening to her ipod as she worked out Filsan thought of how the events in her life have wrecked havoc to her placed system of order. Her step increased in pace and her jaw got locked as usual when she is brooding. The view infront of her blurred into a memory of love and affection. She saw herself dressed in a serene blue dress dancing the night away in the arms of her fiancee. Her laugh ringing so clear in her ears as she twirled round and round on the dance floor. Her fiancee's loving gaze and the passion locked in them boring into her very soul. The image dissipated to a younger version of her. At a tender age of seven watching snow white and the seven dwarfs with her friend's father. Her gaze so intent on the TV it was like she was in the movie. As Filsan remembered that day clearly her step turned forceful and her hands clenched into a fist.

A tear dropped from her eyes as she kept staring ahead of her. Filsan willed for the memories to stop flooding her vision. She willed for them to go back to whence they came from. She moved her fingers to the volume wheel blasting the music to full capacity.......drowning in the words of Mary J Blige. Her face felt hot and flushed as she pushed her body to work extra hard. Words started reverbating in her mind:

If we had anything it wouldn't come to this

When you are ready to get married let me know cause something tells me you are not ready

U ain't happy with anything, What are you happy with?

You have your own agenda. Don't poison any of them against me!!

I don't want to ever talk to you as long as I live.

You are selfish and conceited.

You will not amount to anything in this world.

You think you are smarter than everyone but you are anything but.

You are fake

I want all of you or nothing

You made my life a living hell...................................

On and on they kept spinning. Pretty soon Filsan's body was racked with sobs as she let out all the emotions corked up in her body. She quickly jumped off the treadmill and run to the locker room. The world was swimming in an ocean of her tears as she locked the door to the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet seat and put her hand to her mouth as she tried to stifle the pathetic hiccupy sobs that had taken over her earlier sobs. With each breath the tears kept increasing. Filsan wanted to die. She wanted to lay her head on the cold linoleum floor and beg God for deliverance from the demons that haunt her. Filsan finally just gave in!