Molisa wa NyaKale

Jana, marked an epic crossing of thresholds not only in my life but with youth leaders in mi hood, en warriors from (almost) all round de world, brought together by Rivers Through Time….najua I’ll be riding the magic of all de synergy abounding for de rest of mi maisha (life)

I have eaten. I am full…. It means I yam full inside for what we have shared. I feel good….When you truly see the Great Spirit in another, and then you may address the Spirit in thanks and celebration. So in this Great Spirit, I give thanks that we were brought together with sacred intentions and youth-led (in mentorship with honourable elders) organising at community arts festivals, na with (our own grassroots definitions of) Pride,

na (kwasababu wahenga walisema leo ni leo)

Today, I walked in spirit with Women’s Health in Women’s Hands, reflecting on the memories of all those honourable powahful teachers who continue to shape (not only) mi movements (but others) to fulfilling highest destinies. Nakumbuka all the times mi sistas en (gran) mamas saved so many of our lives, en held space for mi dreams to grow with their sage secrets of loving….warriors like Notisha Massaquoi. Alison Duke. Patricia Koine. Leleti Tamu. Yolisa Dalamba. Amai Kuda…..(dis litany of survival is for de powah of reclaiming memories in orality)

I recognise and acknowledge the mysterious reality of missing de festivities around Dyke March, de grand feast of a brunch at TRCC, de Christmas&NewYears-like reunion of growing chosen families and witnessing of so many others, missing all a dis as I continue taking mi health in own hands and honour the significant difference in mi ability to walk for long distances and withstand the assault of concrete on mi body.

But for a ‘mysterious’ accident, 4 moons (or 138 days) ago, I wouldn’t have been relearning mi ableism in de daily struggle of reconciling mi ritualised actions and patterns with the effects of being hit by a car as a pedestrian, systemically falling through the cracks of the system, yet constantly being saved & nourished by villages at the heart of what is Tdot renaissance

Tomorrow, will be de crowning of queer/trans pan-afrikan organising, right in de heart of pan-africanism in de diaspora, with our own Blockorama.

Mi cup is overflowing with de magic of malaikas (angels) who continue to advocate for, co-create, en share their gifs in abundance in sustaining our growing learning villages en communities.

These are what safe spaces na nyumbani (home) feels like, grown over years and centuries of lifetimes.

Afrika moja! Afrika Huru! Pamoja Tunafika!

Dear (wa)kukhu na abakuka,

asante for your continued guidance and protection;

haki iwe ngao na mlinzi, natukae kwa undugu, amani na uhuru,

raha tupate na ustawi, not only sisi, lakini wengine.

nawashukuru wahenga najua kama Masinde wa Nameme okhwa Mwasame,

asante for your sacred leadership in the quest for peace, truth, justice,

and reclaiming the wealth of our people.

Visima vya kale havifunikwi,

Nashukuru the magic of your legacy  &  anniversary

inayoendelea ku-spread upendo, hope na positivity in abundance

ese

kuna hadithi najua kuhusu how the earth floats in space on the back of a turtle, au (or)

ilibadilika kuwa dunia hii tunayojua ilipoletwa kama loose earth in a snail shell, iliyochimbuka na kuku.

wapi mchanga iliguza maji, it became solid land na chikichi ilipandwa kuwa mikindani, na mnazi….

kila mara hii hadithi husemwa, inabadilika.

sometimes the change is in de details, of reclaiming pan-afreekan languages.

other times hiyo badilisho is in de order of events.

But in all the telling of the tellers, the world never leaves de kobe’s back, and de turtle never swims away.

hadithi njoo, ukweli njoo, utamu kolea…..