….The ancient ones sing in joy that you have come here to deepen your spirit.
Spiritual warrior’s pledge: Not for myself alone, but that all the people may live.
We can come to the wilderness to feel what is possible and naturally beautiful – but we must stand rooted in the Earth and face the crying issues right where we live…..
[Buffalo Woman Comes Singing]
In a sa(cre)d mood tonite, paying respects to the passing of legends, weaving life/death/life cycles in(to) the tapestry of the Q_t werd…..
The riddle of the sphinx is in the connecshun between Elijah Masinde and [G is for the legend of] Gregory Isaacs. Thank you for all the gifts en knowledge you share…..ase…..
I give thanks for yesterday, today and tomorrow, thank you for guiding us here today. Bless those who pray for us, who love (and share with) us. Bless the motherless and fatherless. Bless the homeless. Bless those sick in hospital.
Inspire those without hope, Ifa, I pray that you strengthen those without faith. Bless our ancestors, whose shoulders we stand on.
Bless our healers and peacemakers. Bless our freedom fighters. Bless granmama dunia and our wotas. Bless all our living relatives.
Bless the pikney and guides of the peace camp & the communities we’re re/building partnerships with.
I pray for health and prosperity, not only for myself but for others.
I pray for humbleness, not only for myself but for others.
I pray for clarity and wisdom, not only for myself but for others
Forgive my sins, those that I know and those that I don’t know about, those that I have yet to commit. Forgive my foolishness.
I pray that we continue to be guided to our right/full destinies……
I give thanks for yesterday, today and tomorrow. Give thanks for having witnessed and shared in the production of the peace (camp) is possible matinee, workshops and parade. I give thanks for new friends, playing and sharing with the pikney, bredrin and sistren of seeds of hope. Bless them and their families.
I give thanks for the blessings of yesterday, carrying into today, and I pray for them to manifest tomorrow. give thanks for all the love and prayers shared. Bless those who share their energy, labour, pray(er) en love with me, and their families.
I pay homage to the spirit of our ancestors. I pay homage to the orishas. I pay homage to the spirit of cool wota. I pay homage to the good fortune of peace, the good fortune of a stable home, the good fortune of wisdom, the good fortune of calmness.
Thank you for the Blessings of wota. Ifa, I pray that you bless all our living relatives. Those that crawl, swim and fly.
Bless our granmama earth. Ase. Ase…..
hadithi? Hadithi?
Nipe mji?
Nilienda Addis….Dar-es-salaam, kampala, kiambu, Kigali,kimilili, malindi, Mogadishu, Nairobi na Webuye.
n(IT)arudi nyumbani karibuni, (lakini) sasa hivi, this space here is the best home I could have, in the heart of tdot, na katika moyo wa Afrika, rebuilding revolushunary villages, waging peace, speaking truth to power and(re)educating not only ourselves, but others, in the practise of freedom.
The peace camp and peace is possible workshops may be officially done, but the work of cultivating our experiences and preparing for the future is on to the next level. We have faith that we will continue to build deeper relationships with our neighbours and friends, and share our resources and spaces more with those who need them.
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
In the beginning was only the sky above, water and marshland below. The chief god Olorun ruled the sky, and the god/dess Olokun ruled what was below.
Obatala, another god, reflected upon this situation, then went to Olorun for permission to create dry land for all kinds of living creatures to inhabit. He was given permission, so he sought advice from Orunmila, oldest son of Olorun and the god of prophecy.
He was told he would need a gold chain long enough to reach below, a snail’s shell filled with sand, a white hen, a black cat, and a palm nut, all of which he was to carry in a bag. All the gods contributed what gold they had, and Orunmila supplied the articles for the bag. When all was ready, Obatala hung the chain from a corner of the sky, placed the bag over his shoulder, and started the downward climb.
When he reached the end of the chain he saw he still had some distance to go. From above he heard Orunmila instruct him to pour the sand from the snail’s shell, and to immediately release the white hen. He did as he was told, whereupon the hen landing on the sand began scratching and scattering it about. Wherever the sand landed it formed dry land, the bigger piles becoming hills and the smaller piles valleys. Obatala jumped to a hill and named the place Ife. The dry land now extended as far as he could see.
He dug a hole, planted the palm nut, and saw it grow to maturity in a flash. The mature palm tree dropped more palm nuts on the ground, each of which grew immediately to maturity and repeated the process. Obatala settled down with the cat for company. Many months passed, and he grew bored with his routine. He decided to create beings like himself to keep him company. He dug into the sand and soon found clay with which to mold figures like himself and started on his task, but he soon grew tired and decided to take a break.
He made wine from a nearby palm tree, and drank bowl after bowl. Not realizing he was drunk, Obatala returned to his task of fashioning the new beings; because of his condition he fashioned many imperfect figures. Without realizing this, he called out to Olorun to breathe life into his creatures. The next day he realized what he had done and swore never to drink again, and to take care of those who were deformed, thus becoming Protector of the Deformed. The new people built huts as Obatala had done and soon Ife prospered and became a city. All the other gods were happy with what Obatala had done, and visited the land often, except for Olokun, the ruler of all below the sky. She had not been consulted by Obatala and grew angry that he had usurped so much of her kingdom.
When Obatala returned to his home in the sky for a visit, Olokun summoned the great waves of her vast oceans and sent them surging across the land. Wave after wave she unleashed, until much of the land was underwater and many of the people were drowned. Those that had fled to the highest land beseeched the god Eshu who had been visiting, to return to the sky and report what was happening to them. Eshu demanded sacrifice be made to Obatala and himself before he would deliver the message. The people sacrificed some goats, and Eshu returned to the sky.
When Orunmila heard the news he climbed down the golden chain to the earth, and cast many spells which caused the flood waters to retreat and the dry land reappear.
So ended the great flood. Ase. Ase……..
And other ‘native’ creashun story goes like…..
In the beginning the new world consisted only of vast oceans. There was no land. Father Sky and his wife were admiring a beautiful tree – lush leaves and fruit, rich, dark bark. Father Sky’s wife told him that she had a great vision which called for him to pull the tree up by its roots, leaving a large hole in the sky.
Father Sky was sad, for he thought the tree quite beautiful, but he also realized the power of his wife’s vision. He wrapped his arms around the tree, gave a might heave, and uprooted the tree. Grasping hold of part of the tree, the woman looked through the hole, as she stretched a little further, she lost her footing and fell through.
The animals that were able to live in the water, turtle, beaver, whale and many others, looked up and saw the woman plummeting towards them. “What will we do,” they cried. “If she lands, she will drown!” Two swans unfurled their beautiful white wings, flew up and caught the woman; they brought her down where they floated on the waves. Everyone knew this could not go on for long, for the the swans would tire, and at some point the woman would need to sit down.
One by one the animals swam to the bottom of the ocean to see if they could bring up a little earth. The big whales tried, the otter tried, animals large and small, all tried. Finally, everyone was floating on top of the water very tired from all their efforts. Little Muskrat swam over and shyly said, “I think I can do it.” The other animals were too exhausted to even laugh at the thought. She took a deep breath and dove as far as she could. It took several tries, but finally, totally exhausted she floated to the surface with a little earth in her paw. “What will I do with it now?” she gasped. Turtle swam over, “Put it on my back, I have a broad back,” he said. Immediately the land began to grow until it was big enough for the swans to step on shore and let the woman down. She let go from her hands some seeds that came from the sacred tree she had been holding onto when she fell through the hole. The land grew and grew and along with it, forests, grasses, plants and vegetables. it was a wondrous sight, and that is how North America came to be created, and subsequently to be called Turtle Island.
[so this q(ues)t of the (divine) werd on the ground goes, (something) like a Prayer to the Seven Directions]
Grandfathers and Grandmothers of the East, each day you bring us new light so that we may grow in wisdom. We have been waiting for the time when your light would shine in the hearts of all people. Then they would remember the Original Instructions that were written in our hearts since the beginning of all things. Now is the time.
Grandmothers and Grandfathers of the South, your warm winds have sent us your love and the abundance from Mother Earth. We have always known that as we follow the Original Instructions we will walk in balance and harmony and all our needs will be met. The power and wisdom of this path is not easily understood when the mind is taught inside boundaries and the heart is closed to sissagwaad, the soft wind of spirit. Open the heart of those who follow the way of the mind.
Grandfathers and Grandmothers of the West, in the darkness of night you have sent us dreams to see deep inside our hearts, to learn how to walk the path of the spirit. We see the beauty that hides behind each moment and discover the Great Mystery that is in us and all things. Help the people of the mind see the power of their dreams. Help them learn from their dreams so that they can remember the Original Instructions.
Grandmothers and Grandfathers of the North, you have brought the cold winds and snows each year to cleanse our Mother Earth. Now the cleansing of the mind has begun. The energies of the stars have shifted into a new focus to end domination and hierarchy. No longer is it possible to live by the mind unless it is guided by the heart. Blow the fresh, clean wind of spirit to sweep away the belief systems that limit our brothers and sisters who are trapped in the way of the mind.
Kee-shay Giidzhii Manidou, you have sent visions and dreams to help us remember Who we are. We have not forgotten the Original Instructions. The stories have now been rediscovered and returned to the people. You have shown that the path of reconciliation and peace is through the heart. Send the light of inspiration to the Ogichidaag‘ who will show others a new way of being.
Gee-mama-nama-kee, you are our Mother, our Source of Life. You have given us our food, our water, air, shelter, and so many beautiful beings who are our Brothers and Sisters. We know we are connected to you and to all other beings in the Web of Life. Many are those who do not know of their connection. They see only with their eyes and their mind. With a narrow focus they see parts of things instead of the energy of love and wholeness. They have forgotten the Original Instructions. As their Mother, you have been patient with them. Extend that patience a little longer so the Ogichidaag‘ can show them a new way.
Great Mystery, we feel your presence in us and in all things. You are the spiral energy of love that connects all, is all. You are the circle of life, the circle way, the Original Instructions. When we are living in our heart, we can soar with the White Eagle to see beyond horizons.
When the drum has been smudged you can beat on it and say this prayer, either in English or Anishinaabemowin, the language of the Anishinabeg:
Midewewewigun, nindo-wiyauh.
I seek the drum.
And then:
N’midewewewigun, manitouwiyauwiwih.
Upon my drum bestow the mystery.
And to Ishpiming, All That Is:
M’gwech, Giidji manidou
Thanks, Great Spirit
Finally, an acknowledgement of the gift:
Kikinowautchi-beegaudae
It is so.
Your drum has been opened as a carrier of your prayers and petitions to the Great Mystery.
Other songs can be found in Ojibway Ceremonies by Basil Johnston from Bison Books (1990).
How the drum was brought to the Anishinabeg is told by Edward Benton-Banai in the Mishomis Book: the Voice of the Ojibway (1988) by Indian Country Communications, Inc. The original drum was the water drum, mi-tig-wa-tik’ day-way-gun, and contained water to represent the First Order of Being.
In our drum this is replaced by the stone set in the handgrip to avoid the humidity that would otherwise soften the drumhead. Later, the Anishinabeg added stones to the exterior ties of their drum. The hide of the deer, wawashkesh’shee, gave peace and gentleness to the drum, as well as speed and agility to the drumbeat.
One of the ceremonial uses of the Mother Earth Drum is healing. The first time I used the drum in healing, I heard the sissagwad, the soft wind of spirit, whisper to me to hold the drum over each chakra and beat softly. It worked. The next time that I did a healing, I did some energy work to break up blockages as I had been instructed to do. Then I noticed my drum sitting nearby and realized that I was supposed to use it…but not beating it. I was to caress the drum to make the sound of the wind whipping up a storm. The with my fingernails scraping across the drum, make the sound of thunder, and, drawing the fingers close together the thunder disappears into the distance. With more wind and more thunder comes the rain, the tapping of fingers making the multitude of raindrops striking the ground. More wind, more thunder, more rain…and then quieter, more distant thunder, a gentling wind, diminishing raindrops. Silence… The hurts and pains were washed away and all was fresh and clean. Another time, a friend in Denver asked me to help me with one of her horses who had a wound that wouldn’t heal. I thought: OK, some sage ceremony, some drumming.
I heard the sissagwad whisper. “No drumming. Use the rattle.”
“What?!” I questioned.
The sissagwad repeated, “No drumming. Use the rattle.”
“Impossible!” I thought. I remembered the cowboy movies I had seen as a boy. The horse hears the rattlesnake and panics, rearing high in the air. And I was going to be right there under the flailing front feet of the horse. How about drumming instead! I begged.
“No drumming. Use the rattle.”
I did the sage ceremony, smudging the entire paddock and the horse. The horse just stood perfectly still as I swept the smoke over the leg and then its whole body.
Then it was time for the rattle. I began to shake the rattle, watchful of any hint of a dangerous response. None. It worked. Then the horse “whispered” to me that ‘it had tickled.’ “What?” I asked. “It tickled,” the horse repeated. When the bandage was taken off too soon, it still tickled so I scratched it.” I told Diana to keep the wrap on longer and the problem was solved. A few months later I heard about the movie, The Horse Whisperer, but I knew that it worked BOTH ways—the horse can whisper to the human, too.
So listen to the sissagwad in your heart. Don’t get locked into any rigid ritual. That’s a head thing, a mind thing. Don’t misunderstand: the mind is good, but the intuition, listening to the soft wind of spirit in the heart, is an awesome source of wisdom beyond anything of which the mind is capable.
Another way to use the drum is to create a buzzing sound with each beat. Medicine men would often place inside the drum a stick with lots of smaller sticks pressing lightly against the back of the drumhead. The multiple tones and harmonics are supposed to elicit healing. With the Mother Earth Drum you can place the fingernail of your forefinger against the backside of the drumhead so that as you drum you will create a buzz. Unlike the medicine drum, you can withdraw your fingernail from the backside of the drumhead and use a normal beat. You can also use the tip of your finger to create a stop to a beat. Or you can use the fingernail of your forefinger to scratch on the backside of the drumhead. In using and combining all of these drumming techniques, you have a diverse “vocabulary” of sounds that can be used as needed. If your fingers are long enough you might even be able to use both your thumb and forefinger giving you two variations on the backside of the drumhead as well as the multitude of variations with the beater on the front of the drumhead. Your virtuosity is not limited to a change of volume and rhythms.
You will also find it very dramatic and powerful to strike the drumhead hard with the beater and hold the beater firmly against the drumhead. It’s almost like an explosion and reverberates with a rising, ringing overtone. Used with a crescendo of volume and rhythm, you can punctuate the finale of a sequence or, followed with quieter drumming and nuanced rhythms, you can create a symphony in percussion. The thin design of the Mother Earth Drum makes this all possible.
The drum can also be used for meditation and shamanic traveling. A constant, steady beat of the drum can alter consciousness.
Recovered from copyright theft of an unprincipled white squaw.
“We must build a militant grassroots movement rooted in the working majority that is completely independent from the political organizations dominated by the big business classes.”
How good it is to know that if the world were burning to a crisp, the owners of society would let us know before we were completely toasted. First the oil spill from the late Deepwater Horizon was spewing out at a thousand gallons a day, then it was five thousand gallons a day, and today it is quietly admitted that it may be upwards of a hundred thousand gallons a day. Not that I’m shocked, you understand, I expect nothing from the ruling class of this country after Hurricane Katrina was used to purge better than a thousand black people from the planet five years ago.
What does intrigue me, however, is the banality of corporate thugs like British Petroleum, who announce such news with the demeanor of a waiter letting you know the short order cook burned your toast. As for the so-called democratic government of the UnitedStates, which should be arresting these criminals at this moment, we are treated to yet another display of Obama’s stentorian skills.
Un(/)fortunately, you don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.
The current ruling class of the United States of America is the most corrupt, bloated and incompetent group of gangsters to oversee this country since its founding. Their public face may be sleeker and wary of its “carbon footprint,” they may drink green tea and jog with their kids seated in ergonomically correct strollers through city parks, but they are as venal – nay, they are more venal than the top hatted, cigar puffing fat cats that were lampooned in the socialist press a century ago.
The robber barons of that era at least had enough social consciousness to know that public libraries and public hospitals were a needful thing. The current generation of new age merit class capitalists daily configure new strategies for selling off the public sector, lock, stock and barrel.
Market efficiency will take care of all, na?
So welcome to the new efficiency under the predator drone-guarded skies. The new generation of market gurus couldn’t foresee the depth of the banking crisis, they couldn’t foresee the endless nature of their atrocities in the Near East, they couldn’t foresee the disaster that has befallen the Gulf of Mexico. (Gaza, Johannesburg, Mtwapa, Ayiti…….)
Amazing, isn’t it, how people who were allegedly elevated through the magic of the marketplace can’t see a speeding train when they’re standing in front of it? The truth is that our new ruling elite do not care what happens to the economy or the ecology so long as their investment portfolios are yielding high dividends.
Certainly the charismatic they put in the White House this last go round wasn’t about to cop to how bad the mess in the Gulf of Mexico is until just a few days ago.
Obama’s response was his usual pursing of the lips, “cluck, cluck, cluck,” and a stentorian reminder to the hup-ho that from now on, they’ll have to play nice. Who needs manatees or pelicans anyway?
Obama’s daily concessions to the ruling gangsters have become the stuff of legend. Even people who never thought he was about much are perpetually astounded at what an opportunist and bloodstained piece of work he’s actually become. He is, in essence, the sort of black politician that all too many white folks – and unfortunately, a great many black people – have come to love and cherish as the best of all possible worlds under the current social order. He’s so obviously disgusting that many of us have grown tired of the topic. He’s just a symptom of our eighteenth century geniuses, Panglosses talking endlessly about their best of all possible worlds.
Our new age Panglosses have basically declared that what we have leading us in this country is the best that anyone can possibly do under the current arrangement. Unfortunately, if this daily grenade range is the best they have to offer, then I can only chime in with the terrible Leon Trotsky, when he observed seventy years ago that if global warfare and the common ruin of nature and humanity were required for the capitalist system to thrive, it’s time it perished.
A triad of transnational behemoths with the appellations Transocean, British Petroleum, and Halliburton have birthed an environmental catastrophe that will in turn imperil the hardwon economic gains of working class people in the deep southern United States for generations. The spill in the Gulf poses a menace to the economies of people of the Caribbean basin: Mexico, the Central American nations, the north of South America. The people who are responsible for this mess are vicious, and we must prepare to make them answer for their crimes against the planet and its peoples.
“Obama’s daily concessions to the ruling gangsters have become the stuff of legend.”
So once again: There has been enough “skinnin’ and grinnin’,” and enough group deception around the actual intentions of the so-called “democratic” party. As usual, even as rivers of oil daily threaten not only the crabbing and shrimping industries that have fed our peoples along the Gulf Coast for generations – and not only as such irreplaceable creatures as the brown pelican, the blue fin tuna, and the manatee are threatened with extinction – the “democratic” party leadership stands with its hands in its pockets, and continues to mildly suggest that that the actions currently being undertaken by British Petroleum may not be adequate. Never forget: our ruling class knows that an unspeakable atrocity is palatable when it’s trotted out and played in minor chords.
Our peoples in this country must be made to understand that the destruction of a maritime industry that has kept the Southeastern states in the U.S. relatively solvent for generations and the slow immolation of an entire aquatic ecosystem is a crime against all of nature and all of humanity.
We have to stop fooling ourselves. There is a class war going on against our peoples and against the natural world, a calculated gamble that is being pursued by the ruling classes of this country.
If we are to survive, we are going to have to see this game, and raise the stakes………….
The eternal question is: who’s got the plan? There are lots of planners, there are lots of ideas in contention. At the very least, each respective strategy we adopt must retain as its watchword the complete independence of the political organizations of the wage earning majority from the political organizations dominated by the big business classes.
But I would like to modestly suggest that we begin by conducting a militant defense of the public sector of the economy through whatever grassroots community and labor organizations at our disposal – once again, with the notable exception of the “democratic” party, which is not an organization that belongs to the wage earning majority, nor will it ever be. Let’s get clear on that. A lot of us are going to go weak in the knees when the “democrats” break out with their usual “the monsters are coming!” show two years from now when the GOP rolls out creeps like Mitch Romney and Sarah Palin. Let’s declare their agenda irrelevant and organize differently. Let’s build upon what we do as a militantly independent grassroots movement.
“The ‘democratic’ party leadership stands with its hands in its pockets, and continues to mildly suggest that that the actions currently being undertaken by British Petroleum may not be adequate.”
Obviously the only ideas that are excluded are racist, classist, sexist, homophobic, shapist, or anything else the capitalist system has come up with to get us to kill each other. No more false unities with people who clearly hate us. Let the polarization that actually exists be open, and let it declare itself openly under the rubric of a political organization rooted in the wage earning majority. There are beginning efforts like this happening in Pennsylvania and North Carolina right now, and there can be no doubt that this will be a long arduous road. All the same, we must get started.
We have to build a grassroots political movement that bases itself upon the energies of the wage earning majority, one that conducts a militant defense of the public sector in this economy. The ruling elite don’t want us to have any political power. Not any. Defend our unions, defend our community organizations, build, defend and expand the public sector of the economy.
The terrible Che Guevara used to say that to accomplish much, one must lose everything.
But be very clear: there are things we have no business losing, and the natural world is foremost among them. We live in a moment when the ruling class of the most technologically advanced country on the planet is willing to flush all of nature down the toilet in order to preserve its imperatives. We cannot allow that. If all I’m talking about here is what amounts to an existential choice for most of us, maybe that’s going to have to be enough to get some people going. The choice is one of being or nothingness.
As for the fools who are destroying the Gulf of Mexico, who believe as the fool Ayn Rand used to argue, that pollution is good for the global economy – make them drink it.
BAR columnist michael hureaux perez is a writer, musician and teacher who lives in southwest Seattle, Washington. He is a longtime contributor to small and alternative presses around the country and performs his work frequently.
Hadithi? Hadithi? Nipe mji…..nilienda isiolo na kampala, kiambu na malindi, nilirudi nyumbani, for the truth about stories is, they’re all we know, and (where) our heart is,
Dis’ werd on the ground: [is] doing the best we can to provide (revolutionary) pan-afrikan media coverage of the world cup.
So we celebrate Ghana’s Black stars victory not jus’ over Serbia, but in the struggle for afrikan liberation, manifest/ing in the past moons en years (en long ago), symbolised [most significantly for dis’ series on the q/t werd] in other historic events
So, it’s only fitting that, in honour and memory of our great ancestors, we commemorate this post to the anniversary of the death of Walter Rodney, a(nother Pan-Afrikan) King.
I give thanks for yesterday, today, and tomorrow, for bredrin and dadas in solidarity, for all the love and resources shared amongst ourselves, and all people liberating not only themselves, but others.
I pray for my families, friends and their families…….Bless our brothas and dadas, cooks, healers, mamas, peacemakers, our children, the future generations and (gran) mama earth. Ase. Ase…….
The q[/t] werd on the ground is doing it true true world cup style….working for unity everywhere from from Ayiti to Zimbabwe,[like in this hadithi] where we give thanks for the fiya, earth, air en wota this time! Mo’ blessings to people (practising and) speaking truth to power!
Hinche, Haiti-
An estimated 10,000 peasants gathered for a massive march in Central Haiti on June 4, 2010, to protest what has been described as “the next earthquake for Haiti” – a donation of 475 tons of hybrid corn seeds and vegetable seeds by the US-based agribusiness giant Monsanto, in partnership with USAID. While this move comes at a time of dire need in Haiti, many feel it will undermine rather than bolster the country’s food security.
According to Chavannes Jean-Baptiste, leader of the Peasant Movement of Papaye (MPP) and spokesperson for the National Peasant Movement of the Congress of Papaye (MPNKP), the entry of Monsanto seeds into Haiti is “a very strong attack on small agriculture, on farmers, on biodiversity, on Creole seeds… and on what is left our environment in Haiti.”
While Monsanto is known for being among the world’s largest purveyors of genetically modified seeds, the corporation’s spokespeople have emphasized that this particular donation is of conventional hybrid seeds as opposed to GMO seeds. Yet for many of Haiti’s peasants, this distinction is of little comfort.
“The foundation for Haiti’s food sovereignty is the ability of peasants to save seeds from one growing season to the next. The hybrid crops that Monsanto is introducing do not produce seeds that can be saved for the next season, therefore peasants who use them would be forced to somehow buy more seeds each season,” explains Bazelais Jean-Baptiste, an agronomist from the MPP who is currently directing the “Seeds for Haiti” project in New York City.
“Furthermore, these seeds require expensive inputs of synthetic fertilizers and pesticides that Haiti’s farmers simply cannot afford. This creates a devastating level of dependency and is a complete departure from the reality of Haiti’s peasants. Haitian peasants already have locally adapted seeds that have been developed over generations. What we need is support for peasants to access the traditional seeds that are already available.”
Who is La Via Campesina?
We are the international movement of peasants, small- and medium-sized producers, landless, rural women, indigenous people, rural youth and agricultural workers.
We defend the values and the basic interests of our members. We are an autonomous, pluralist and multicultural movement, independent of any political, economic, or other type of affiliation. Our 148 members are from 69 countries from Asia, Africa, Europe, and the Americas.
Molisa wa NyaKale 