post-thanksgiving roll. 

today was supposed to be day 2 of the series on s/heroes. however, I have had to make last minute changes to the presentation. This series is interrupted for me to rewrite the stories with no names. i consider it an exercise in growth. but i’m saddened  at my (imposed) self censorship. That I can’t just talk freely about my comrades en sistren. because it’s still not safe for us. but then again it is. because we have done what we need to make it safe for ourselves. though let me make clear that when I say I yam angry. that is strategic and political. I yam actually not FEELING  angry, I mean who would I get anrgy at? my friends and family that are concerned about their safety? I can not be angry at them. I can say I’m angry at the world. But no one has necessarily done anything (yet) in reaction to this blog. at least I don’t think so. So my use of the word, is political.

It is to transform the fear and reality of unsafe spaces. to acknowledge the anger of fear for our lives. to take on the battle for others who are not even allowed to express that anger, who can do nothing other than nurse those wounds, or worse yet, die.

but there are many of us who are still here. we are the survivors. en I yam not angry anymore. I have been angry many times before. I will still willfully carry that tag of the mad black woman. the strong black woman. but i am neither of these things. I have been blessed with love and luck. I write these stories, because I can, because I want to, en because I think it’s necessary.

I believe in the uses of anger, the power to transform with fiya. It is also true dat fiya fi burn. and it is deadly to be  consumed by it. we need all the elements in our growth. fiya, wota, earth, air.

and, in another prelude to that future post, (the one that I mentioned earlier), a retraction…..

let me say again, that this blog is political. it is strategically rooted in the personal.

I, molisa nyakale. write about me, en my work, en my personal life.

en yet, this blog is not about me at all. it is about resistance to all forms of imperialism and rebuilding healthy, loving, sustainable communities. it is about strategising with comrades. about equipping ourselves with the neccsary resources. this is a work of love.

 this blog is that extra/visible contra/diction.

 i tell you the details of so’ en so’….but I don’t gossip.

it is about season 2 of the q werd. queer/trans afrikan lives in tdot.

 

but that’s a story I’ll tell you another moon. today.

 

i’ll dedicate to el hajj malik shabazz instead.ase.

 

and i give thanks for (my other) teachers like, angela davis, assata shakur, audre lorde,  audrey mbugua, amilcar cabral, bell hooks, cornel west, d’bi young.anitAfrika, dionne brand, edward said, ernesto che guevara, frantz fanon, kwame nkrumah, kwame ture, mwalimu nyerere, muthoni wanyeki, nalo hopkinson, notisha  massaquoi, pouline kimani, staceyannchin,  vandana shiva, walter rodney king  en wangari maathai…en more

 

i give thanks for our ancestors, our elders, and our youth.

 

i give thanks for the power of (u) people. (and for hanifah walidah and olive demetrius)

i give thanks for none on record.

 

they are re/building our archives.

they are re/inscribing our existence, en our afrikan decsent,

they have some jood stories. go listen to them.

 

and listen to this piece of malcolm’s.

 

OUR HISTORY WAS DESTROYED BY SLAVERY

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