memorial day: hadithi ya masinde wa nameme

give thanks for your continued guidance and protection.

nashukuru your rebel(ling) with a cause to preserve the traditions of our ancestors.

forward evah!

 

 

our Afreekan stories

It’s that time of the year again in Turtle Island when black history month is ‘officially’ commemorated, where the reality is for Afrikans, every day en night (no matter how westernised or ignorant of our true true cultures we are), is about our (diverse) Afreekan stories……

so dis’ moon, like every other, not only I but so many mo’ others, are blogging with the rhythm of reclaiming ancestral legacies, and for the struggle of Afreekan liberation, as we have been doing from time…

As we give thanks for all the blessings, for the spreading waves of hope, love and positivity in abundance…in solidarity with the spirit of truth, justice and salaam driving the grassroots revolushuns in Egypt (formerly known as [parts of] Nubia!), Sudan, Tunisia, Uganda, Ayiti, en around the world…

The bigger point (as) is the ‘speciality’ of dis’ blog, we gonna re-DO [re-tell], take steps back [co-create]…..so we can give thanks for yesterday, today and tomorrow…. and revision our ways forward in the most loving, sustaining and sustainable ways…

hadithi? hadithi? hadithi njoo….

Reposted from http://bulletsandhoney.wordpress.com/

Generation Disaster

This opinion originally run in the East Africa on January 28, 2008 under the title,

‘The problem with Kenya’s politics is the old guard‘

The next revolution in Kenya will not be a violent one,

contrary to the bloodletting presently underway. Rather it will be the rejection of the generation of men from whom the leaders of this country have been drawn.

The major politicians were in politics long before the majority of Kenyans were even born and who even today enjoy inordinate sway in the country. President Mwai Kibaki was born in 1931. Ex-president Daniel arap Moi was born in 1924.

They are still doddering on, unable to relinquish the reins of the power they have held onto tightly for half a century.

Theirs is a generation steeped in tribal arithmetic, in a cynical nationalism; their values have infected those thousands of young people who are roaming the countryside in a killing frenzy.

The young men throwing stones and shooting arrows and the youthful riot policemen opposite them lobbing tear gas and firing live ammunition are fodder for the failed politics of a generation of old men who may just take all of us to the grave with them.

I was raised to respect my elders and there are many whom I indeed respect.

But the time has come to assess in the broadest and most personal terms how the generation of leaders that took this country from independence to the bloody and dangerous

present has performed.

The oldest were born in the 1920s and the youngest of the lot in the 1940s — opposition leader Raila Odinga, who was born in 1945 is the youth wing of this generation. They can be counted as a single generation in the sense that their vision of what constitutes Kenya and their role in it is widely shared.

This generation has played and continues to play a prominent role in politics, in our intellectual life and in the business community.

While there are many among them who are capable and well intentioned, the defining characteristic of this generation is failure

in leadership.

It is not enough to lay the blame on a few individuals. These prominent wazee (old men) have defined for us the content of our politics and the ethics of governance. They are our very own Boomer Generation except that the boom in this instance is the sound of our dreams and aspirations exploding. It is time we named them Generation Disaster.

It is a popular pastime to compare Kenya’s performance in economic and human development terms with that of the Asian Tigers such as South Korea and Malaysia. How often I have heard it said that these countries in economic terms were neck and neck with Kenya in the 1970s, only for them to surge ahead in the past three decades while Kenya trod water and in many instances retreated on the advances it had made.

The approximately 3 per cent of Kenyans who are above the age of 65 and from whom the bulk of Generation Disaster is drawn, have led us to an average life expectancy of 55 years compared with South Korea’s 77 and Malaysia’s 72 — according to the online Institute World Guide, which allows country comparison of economic data.

The economic numbers are even more dire. Kenya’s gross domestic product of $38 billion as of 2005 is only a fraction of Malaysia’s $287 billion and South Korea’s $1 trillion. Per capita, Kenyan citizens have only 12 per cent of their Malaysian counterparts’ income and 6 per cent of the South Korean GDP per capita of almost $23,000. At the turn of the century, 40 per cent of Kenyans were unofficially unemployed compared with fewer than 4 per cent of Malaysians and South Koreans.

These statistics, we can suppose with reasonable confidence, have deteriorated in the past three weeks and they mean that Kenya can count itself first among equals only if compared to the Congos and Guineas of this world. Our leaders’ vision is only to be lauded if compared with countries that have experienced genocides and decades-long civil wars.

Yet this generation, which touts its anti-colonialist credentials, its Kennedy Airlifts (the US scholarship programmes of the 1960s), its Makerere (university) pedigree and its ambassador-at-30 mentality has only managed to take us from one disaster to the next.

I grew up hearing about the inferiority of one tribe as against the other, in jokes that now seem like macabre warnings of a day when they would become deadly serious. My elders were ever focused on their belly buttons. Not for them to learn from the experiences of other countries — especially the disasters that were unfolding around us and sending refugees by the thousands into our country.

Their language was a curious construction. “The Kikuyu are now in power,” they would say even though I hardly saw a penny from this so-called power. “The Kalenjin have taken power,” they complained as President Moi stepped into State House, “They will finish us now for sure.” “The Luos can never rule this country; the Kikuyus are thieves; the Luhyas don’t know how to take power…”

This language is what has given birth to the present crisis and has underpinned the governance of this country since Independence.

Such a leap into the illogical, for our generation of leaders, is the very basis of logical thinking when it comes to apportioning power and privilege among themselves. It has served them well, this spokesman-of-the-tribe role.

It is the position that has enabled all those Mercedes Benzes to be bought from the proceeds of Goldenberg, Anglo Leasing and the dozens of financial schemes to rob the Treasury in the name of fulfilling the privileges of tribal mandarin.

Though they developed these roles before the majority of us were even born, their thinking has infected us all. Say what you will about the opposition, it too is a gathering of “spokesmen of the tribe” challenging a government largely constituted from similar material.

The one thing that such politics will not deliver to this country is the kind of vision and leadership that led

South Korea and Malaysia from poverty to wealth.

We may continue chasing “those people” from one area or the other and supporting the powerful on the basis that they are “our people,” but perhaps we only need to remember that the cost in lives is borne by individuals.

What does it matter that there is a Kikuyu president when you are a Kikuyu living in Nairobi’s Mathare slum? This generation of wazee has infected the country with its self-serving obsession with ethnicity as politics and politics as ethnicity. It has lived longer than most Kenyans can expect to live and yet it refuses to exit the stage.

Generation Disaster has repeatedly turned down opportunities to appeal to our better natures. It has chosen advancement from enmity rather than from strengthening our bonds.

Fear and suspicion are its stock in trade. These wazee sap on the blood of the young and seek gratification of their lust for power even if it leads to the destruction of this fragile, injured thing we call Kenya.

Why exactly should we respect this generation that has lived longer than most of us can expect to live and yet refuses to exit the stage, like an ill-mannered guest who insists on staying an extra night?

[hii ni hadithi ya some of the legends of the Q_t werd, kama ya Namutebi,

reposted from http://www.newvision.co.ug/PA/8/25/489410]

By Elvis Basudde

BORN poor, poorly educated, a victim of child abuse, pressed at an early age into dull and unpaid jobs, Sylvia Namutebi, 33, popularly known as ‘Mama Fiina’, recovered by her own efforts from these handicaps and from ill-health. 

From a deep remote village in Mukono where she was toiling from morning to evening, Namutebi was determined to make a meaningful life when she boarded a bus to Kampala while still a teenager.

She now works in a shrine at Katwe, where I met her for an interview.
Namutebi smiles as she smokes a pipe in her shrine. She is surrounded by about 50 people mainly women, singing, praying and smoking pipes. She shakes my hand and introduces herself as ‘Musambwa’ “ How is The New Vision?” she asks.
To me, she does not look like a Musambwa. I have always known Musambwa to mean evil spirit. But she did not look evil at all. Okay, I have never seen a Musambwa, I am a God-fearing man.

With her introduction, I had to sit up and think again, because it is rare to find people of Namutebi’s social status (a tycoon) who would proudly call themselves “Musambwa.”

Realising how mesmerised and unsettled I am, she laughs lightly and quickly assures me that the people around are friendly, harmless and love visitors.

And as I talk to her, I wonder how this typical village woman with no formal education and at such an age could accumulate so much wealth. Her colleagues call her a billionaire.

Namutebi was recently crowned the first woman ‘President of Traditional Healers in Uganda’ (Uganda N’eddagala Lyayo), replacing the late Ben Gulu. She beat four men to take the most coveted office in the local industry of traditional medicine.

Speaking during the crowning ceremony, Robert Sebunya (former minister of health in Buganda government) who represented the Vice-President, hailed the traditional healers and encouraged them to smoke the pipe.

Namutebi’s assets are estimated to be worth sh2b. The 5ft 3inches feet tall, ‘not so sophisticated-looking’ Namutebi has a fleet of commercial lorries, omnibuses (taxis), over 400 boda boda, shops on William and Luwumu streets and at Mukwano Arcade in Kampala.

Namutebi also owns commercial buildings at Kajjansi, Makindye and Najjanankumbi. She is also the brain behind New Progressive School in Seeta, a school that caters for over 200 orphans and unprivileged children. 
Last month, during a Nigiina (gift circle) function that was held in Makindye, Namutebi surprised people when she donated a new car to a Nigiina ‘bride’. That is Namutebi for you.

Surprisingly, Namutebi is a very ordinary woman who does not brag about her achievements. Appearance can be deceptive.
If you meet her and she tells you she is the person behind all these projects, you would call it a lie.

However, Namutebi attributes her meteoric rise to hard work and to her gods – Musambwa Musamya and Lubaale Nagadya. She says she is the principal medium of Musambwa Musamya.
Some people though, allege she has acquired her wealth as a result of going under the lake, a thing she dismisses as hogwash. She said she has worked hard and has profited from her efforts.

“I have travelled a tough road to get here. It has not been easy, but a lot has to do with my tough upbringing and suffering which became an inspiration. The injustices my stepmother inflicted on me helped me see things in their true perspective and not to take life for granted,” she stresses.

She says she relates to the poor since her upbringing was rough. She knows what it is like to struggle through life. He mother died when she was just five years old.  She sees her in pictures and only has a blurred memory of how she looked like.

“My father was a no- nonsense person but he didn’t care much about me. He never valued me and used to take me for granted. They used to call me “Ekyaana,” meaning  a foolish child,” she reminisces.

She adds: “ I didn’t want people to suffer the way I suffered. That is how I became renown, by helping people especially orphans, paying their fees and taking care of th

em. Every Friday, I go on the streets and give children food and clothing.”

When Namutebi came to Kampala

in 1986, she was a little girl who stayed with her uncle in Ndeeba, from where she later got married and got her first daughter called Fiina, the reason they call her Mama Fiina.

In 1994, Namutebi teamed up with a friend called Mumbejja Nakayenga and both worked under the scorching sun, selling polyethylene bags (buveera) on veran

dahs of Kampala, mainly around Nansagazi shop near the former UTC bus park.

After some time, Namutebi left the business after her friend left for kyeyo in the US. She then started selling lesus, but it was like jumping from a frying pan into fire since the sunshine continued harassing her as she walked from one place to another looking for customers.

After seven years of gruelling perseverance –– working under the sun in the open, Namutebi got her big breakthrough around 1996. She graduated into selling children’s clothes. She would fly to Nairobi, China and Dubai to buy the items. She has never looked back ever since.

Listeners of Radio Star FM, Radio Simba, CBS, and Sapientia are familiar with the voice of “Mama Fiina O’womundeeba. She is always on air on these stations, contributing ideas on social and political issues. And for her love for President Yoweri Museveni, people have given her all sorts of names; Museveni’s witchdoctor or Museveni’s woman.

She says she joined politics in 1996 when she made her first call on Star FM and spoke out the good things Museveni had done, disproving those who were criticising him. She says apart from politicking and overseeing her business, she spends more time in her shrine where she cleanses people of their troubles and gives them luck.

“People throng here with all sorts of problems. They come to smoke the pipe and ask for blessings and luck. I cure various diseases and I am also a traditional birth attendant. Nobody smokes this pipe and remains the same,” she says, pointing to the pipe as she smokes.

She says she is an extraordinary witchdoctor, the present medium of Musambwa Musamya, and the god who gives blessings. She says she was appointed Musambwa while still in her mother’s womb.

She did not go for education due to reasons she calls “mystical”, but that her god blessed her with tremendous wealth. “I perform tasks that Musambwa instructs me to do. I heal people,and give luck and blessings,” she says. Namutebi was born in 1972 to Paul Mukalazi in Mukono.

She is the second born out of five. She is married to Ismail Sekidde, a businessman and “a good Christian,” as he calls him. They have two children aged nine and seven years. Namutebi employs over 60 workers in her various businesses.

“My immediate plan is to construct a huge hospital for traditional healers. I have already bought land for sh40m in Mityana for the project. I also want traditional healers to have offices and stops operating from those poor shrines,” she said.

[hadithi ya the Q_t werd ni ya Bredrin en dadas in solidarity, speaking truth to powah!

ni ya(le ya) kale,

Hadithi? Hadithi?

Hadithi njoo…. ..

Giza ya?

Sahani ya?

 

Ourstories: in dub

The q_t werd : has evolved into dis’ present incarnation from its seeding, in Tdot en Vancouver,

five years ago…

[en in the spaces between, from before, long long long ago, there were 9(+1) dadas na baba na mama

Hadithi? Hadithi? Hadithi njoo…..Sahani? ya…….Giza? ya……..]

Dis’ doc (in the works of becoming a series) is the love child of revolushunary villages

(rebuilding en dialoguing) in Hamilton, Tdot, Nairobi, Joburg & Kampala.

Dis’ is our nekkyd truth, a.k.a  real talks, about these visions we have on our quest of re-educating not only ourselves, but others, in the practice of freedom n’ liberation: where every moon is afrikan hirstory month, every day i(nvolve)s building solidarity within our diversity n peacemaking

[In the spaces between: we develop as a collective with all the means we have, our biomythdramas, inspired by the artists who’ve studied and performed (with the core principles being developed by d’bi young of) anitafrika! dub theatre, nourished by our ancestral memories, nurtured with the legacies of indigenUS en pan-afrikan warriors]

Dis’ is us, no apologies or excuses, jus’ as is, on a journey of  healing(selves) en re/claiming our destinies.

Hadithi? Hadithi?

Hadithi njoo…

 

Mo’ (on) real talks in the q/t werd

So like we’ve blogged  en said before, dis’ documentary/series is a work in progress: like we have a summer’s worth of footage,  yet we’re still developing the storyboard, still deciding (the rest of) our core characters from the 32 (and then some) stories we collected, still trying to get another camera, laptop and editing software, funding, jus’ to start….the bigger point is we hustling to manifest our dreams of a video project and (going) back-to afrika movement/s

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ke67lHxPf8A&feature=related]

So far we’ve got our ABCDE/Fn’G’s (H! ….to P will debut in November )

a is for afrika [is for anitafrika dub theatre! is for amai kuda is for audrey mbugua…..]

is the crux of dis’ here doc

En b is for black august [is for blockorama en blockobana is for bredrin en dadas in solidarity]

Are (some of) the visions of our quest

C is for colour spill productions  [is for cee swagger is for cea walker is for chan mubanga]

Some of the real/live legends of this doc

D is for Dini Ya Msambwa: our ancestral memories

En E is for (the spaces between) Elijah Masinde and Elijah Wilson

That’s wussup.

Hadithi? Hadithi? Hadithi njoo…..Sahani? ya……Giza? ya……

Kesho (kutwa) on the Q/t werd, F n’ G en people we’re learning from, who’re educating others in the practice of freedom and reclaiming indigenous afrikan knowledge systems.

 

Bukusu initiation rites

 I remember, once when I was looking for mangoes somewhere on the way to my aunties place as a lil’ pikney, being chased by a huge crowd of boys, in various states of un/dress….. I was terrified, half running en mostly examining the ‘spectacle’ of peers crossing thresholds, screaming after me en waving assorted ‘objects’.

I must have been very afraid, I remember my heart beating fast, or so I fill the memories of the spaces between the evolushun of our traditions, now, in a place far away from where my father’s ancestors lived.

That was my first direct introduction to bukusu circumcision ceremonies. I eventually got back to my grandmother’s homestead safe, missing not much more than a number of mangos, and one slipper, with plenty o’ juicy stories.

As I grew older though, my visits to papa’s village en the number of ceremonies paying homage in my kukhu’s homestead lessened, by the time I was 17, my return to ushago had dwindled to funerals, which meant that at least once a year, I couldn’t miss the ‘big’ one, the truth is I haven’t been back, now,for a decade…….

Sasa, my deepening en growing knowledge of the ways of my ancestors, is creatively sought through google, you tube channels, and decolonising diasporic tongues, there, in the tales of gran’ nanny maroon n’ harriet tubman, of elegba en nana buluku, here in my hoods, sharing knowledge with other afrikans, I found spaces to pay homage to my kukhu again. Ase…..

Kesho, on the q/t werd, vlog#2: thank Gawdess for tdot

 

the river and, the space between, the source

On Truth

 Osa Otura asks what is ‘truth’

 I ask what is truth?

Orunmila says truth is the Lord of Heaven who guides the world rightly.

Osa Otura asks what is ‘truth’

 I ask what is truth?

Orunmila says truth is the Unseen One guiding the world in the right way.

The wisdom that Olodumare uses, great wisdom, abundant wisdom.

Osa Otura asks what is ‘truth’

 I ask what is truth?

Orunmila says truth is the nature of Olodumare.

Truth is the word that cannot fall.

–Ese Ifa, Osa Otura

 

 

[blogger’s notes: Leo, hadithi ya kale ni ya egun en, the spaces between reclaiming, our knowledge of orishas]

 

Egun – our ancestors

Egun is the collective representation of the Ancestors.We often call our Ancestors by the name, Egun, which in Yoruba language means bones.

As we walk upon the Earth our feet press against the bones of the Ancestors on whose shoulders we stand. Like most indigenous cultures of the world, Afrikans believe that those who go before us make us what we are. When we walk on the Earth, we literally stand on the shoulders of those who bodies have been committed to the soil, the water, and the wind.

Our Ancestors influence our lives through heredity and human culture. However, there is an even deeper connection to the Ancestors as active spirits who continue to influence our lives. We humans honor them with altars, music and prayer. They in turn offer us guidance, protection and prosperity.

Read More

 

Eshu – divine messenger

Esu is the Divine Spirit of Communication, the well-spoken orator who speaks all languages. Esu translates messages between humans and Orisha. Without Esu our prayers would not be understood in heaven and we would be unable to understand the language of Orisha or our ancestors (Egun). Esu is the guardian of the crossroads, as such he opens and closes all doors and ceremonies.

Esu is the owner of ase, the dynamic power that pulses throughout the universe. He is one of the most tactile Orishas constantly stimulated by all he encounters. As such, Esu hates to be bored.As a force in nature Esu is absolutely masculine; however, Esu also has a nurturing side. Esu statues are sometimes sculpted with him having a large, erect penis and well-developed breasts. Esu’s primary colors are red and black.

  

Ochosi – the tracker/warrior

Ochosi is the Orisa associated with hunting and tracking. Ochosi is a nimble, strong, fast Orisha, a supreme marksman.  A “cool” Orisha, Ochoosi is called the “Left-handed Magician”, owing in part, to his ashe of stealth. Yoruba scholar, John Mason writes, that “Ochosi attacks like Ogun, sudden and deadly, yet the victim never sees the assailant or hears the report of the weapon, and that, “Ochosi only has to find a suitable perch and wait for his victims.”

Ochosi helps us to find the most efficacious path to what we aim to achieve. While Esu opens the door and Ogun clears the path, it is Ochoosi who, with bow and arrow aims and creates for us the path of least resistance.

 

Ogun – …of iron

Ogun is the Spirit of iron in Yoruba culture. Both a hunter and a warrior, Ogun uses an iron machete to cut through dense forest to procure food and medicinal herbs and to protect the lives of the community. Ogun helps us clear physical, psychological, or spiritual obstacles that block our ability to achieve our goals. Similarly, Ogun protects us from physical, psychological, or spiritual dangers.

 

Obatala…of the white cloth

Obatala, is the chief of the White Cloth, the Orisha who in Yoruba cosmology, first descended from heaven to earth with the tools for making the earth livable for humans. Obatala is considered the father of all orisa and is said to make the inner and outer heads of all humans.

Obatala is associated with purity, ethics and humility. Obatala is the Orisa of the elderly as well as the Orisa of those with physical disabilities. 

Aganju – the volcano

Aganju is the Orisa of the Uncultivated Earth, Lord of the Volcano, Lord of Caves, The Divine Ferryman.

Aganjú  is most often referred to as the Volcano. He is also the Orisa of untamed lands, from desert to mountains, the brother/husband of Yemoja. Like Olokun, is fabulously wealthy.  As Lord of Caves he owns all the mineral wealth of the earth. Aganju is also the navigator, knowing the safe passages and fjords across the river.  Followers of Santeria equate him with St. Christopher, for like St. Christopher, he will dance at a bembe with little children on his shoulders. Aganju is the bearer of burdens, (the shoulders and back belong to Aganju) the defender of the helpless, down trodden and enslaved. Aganju is a force of life that overcomes obstacles and does the impossible.

Aganyú is the symbol of all earth forces, particularly the core of the earth, the desert, and the volcano. He represents a brute and regenerative force that is responsible for all cataclysmic upheavals that change the face of earth. Volcanic lava is seen as his fiery breath and his power makes the earth gyrate upon its axis. Aganyú is depicted as the father of Shangó in some patakin, and a younger brother of Shangó in others.

 

Shango – “King of” King(s)

“Lightning reaches from the Realm of the Ancestors to Earth as a reminder of the humbling power that exists within Nature itself.”

In Ifa, Divine Justice is symbolized by lightning, one of the primal fires of the Earth in existence since the beginning of time.  Shango is the Orisha associated with the power of lightning and thunder, as well as the name of the Fourth Alafin (Chief) of Oyo. Oyo was a major Yoruba city and the name of a federation of city-states that existed during the 14th and 15th centuries in West Africa.

Oshun – the river

Oshun is the Orisa associated with fresh water. The name Oshun translates to mean “spring” or “source.” As the Orisa of fresh water, Oshun is the source of all life. She is the owner of the Osun river in Oshogbo, Nigeria. She is a powerful healer, especially as it concerns to issues of conception, women’s health and love relationships.

 

Oya – Mother of Nine

Oya is the complex Orisha who guides transformation and change in life.  As the Goddess of the Winds, she can come as a fierce tornado or hurricane or as a cool breeze on a hot summer day.  In her transformative mode she is always moving toward ideal justice for all. 

She wants the best for each of us, and sometimes that means taking away our illusions about the world regarding things and people.  Oya is also known as the keeper of the Ancestors.  In this capacity she serves as the guardian of Egun (Ancestors) at the outskirts of the cemetery, serving as mediator between the living and the sacred dead.  There is a Yoruba prayer for Oya that says, “ Ajalaiye, Ajalorun, fun mi ire,” translated as “the winds of Earth and Heaven bring me good fortune.”  She moves heaven (ancestors) and earth (living) to create communication between the realms.  Finally, as Patron of the Marketplace, Oya is a shrewd businesswoman who reigns over commerce and exchange.  Invoke her before you go shopping.  Take an offering to her and leave it at the opening to a flea market, and she will smile upon your bargaining.  She is also called Iyansan (The Mother of Nine), particularly in Brazil.  Her number is nine, and she loves eggplants and red wine.  Oya- Iyansan is a complex warrior deity who will go to battle for her children out of love and justice.

 

Yemoja – mother of fish

Yemoja is the “Mother of the Children of Fishes.” As such, she is the penultimate symbol of motherhood. Yemoja is the all encompassing mother; like the sea, her ability to nurture is vast. Though associated with the ocean in the African Diaspora, in Yorubaland, Yemoja is the Orisa of the Ogun river. Yemoja is associated with the top layers of the ocean-Olokun is considered the deep, deep realm of the Ocean. The Ocean is the largest environment for life on the earth, therefore Yemoja is viewed as the mother who gave birth to civilization and who continues to sustain us. 

Olokun – owner of the deep

Olokun is the Orisha of the ocean. In Yorubaland Olokun refers to the entire ocean, but in some areas of the New World, this Orisha refers only to the bottom of the sea, with Yemoja governing the top. In those references the ocean is seen as governed by Yemoja/Olokun.

Read more from the source @ http://www.ileorunmilaoshun.org/

 

the space(s)between: destiny and faith

Hapo mwezi ya kale……kulikuwa na notice from Chief Arvol Looking Horse

(of) A Great Urgency: To All World Religious and Spiritual Leaders

My Relatives,

Time has come to speak to the hearts of our Nations and their Leaders. I ask you this from the bottom of my heart, to come together from the Spirit of your Nations in prayer.

We, from the heart of Turtle Island, have a great message for the World; we are guided to speak from all the White Animals showing their sacred color, which have been signs for us to pray for the sacred life of all things. As I am sending this message to you, many Animal Nations are being threatened, those that swim, those that crawl, those that fly, and the plant Nations, eventually all will be affected from the oil disaster in the Gulf.

The dangers we are faced with at this time are not of spirit. The catastrophe that has happened with the oil spill which looks like the bleeding of Grandmother Earth, is made by human mistakes, mistakes that we cannot afford to continue to make.

I ask, as Spiritual Leaders, that we join together, united in prayer with the whole of our Global Communities. My concern is these serious issues will continue to worsen, as a domino effect that our Ancestors have warned us of in their Prophecies.

I know in my heart there are millions of people that feel our united prayers for the sake of our Grandmother Earth are long overdue. I believe we as Spiritual people must gather ourselves and focus our thoughts and prayers to allow the healing of the many wounds that have been inflicted on the Earth.

As we honor the Cycle of Life, let us call for Prayer circles globally to assist in healing Grandmother Earth (our Unc¹I Maka).

We ask for prayers that the oil spill, this bleeding, will stop. That the winds stay calm to assist in the work. Pray for the people to be guided in repairing this mistake, and that we may also seek to live in harmony, as we make the choice to change the destructive path we are on.

As we pray, we will fully understand that we are all connected. And that what we create can have lasting effects on all life.

So let us unite spiritually, All Nations, All Faiths, One Prayer. Along with this immediate effort, I also ask to please remember June 21st, World Peace and Prayer Day/Honoring Sacred Sites day. Whether it is a natural site, a temple, a church, a synagogue or just your own sacred space, let us make a prayer for all life, for good decision making by our Nations, for our children¹s future and well-being, and the generations to come.

Onipikte (that we shall live),

Chief Arvol Looking Horse

19th generation Keeper of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf Pipe

To learn more about Chief Arvol Looking Horse, go to http://www.wolakota.org