diaryofanegress

Observations of an Invisible Woman

Archive for the category “Black women”

Dear Truthbetold Part 4

I received this letter a few days ago from a black reader. It saddened and somewhat shocked me because it was not the first time a black female admitted this. I discussed it with a good buddy of mine and she gave me her perspective on things. May I say something? I’m somewhat surprised at the overwhelming amount of pretty, educated, friendly yet lonely and unhappy black women out there.

One would think that as long as she met the “basic” qualifications for a partner and was acceptable to bring home and meet the parents, men would be lining up, or even fighting, to grab her. But from what I’ve been reading, that isn’t the case. I’ve been thinking about this post for a few days now and I almost didn’t publish it. But I feel it’s too important of a topic NOT to post it.

I’d like to speak my peace on this disheartening topic, just once, before I let you have yours.

No matter how much men feel that they “run” things, we all know that The Universe is female. Without Her, life as we know it, is gone. Historically, the black female has been overwhelmingly loyal to her man. Some strayed for reasons of her own but most stayed. Why? Intrinsically, she understood the game. The day that black women “take the bait” and give up on black men, for whatever reason, the entire game is O-V-E-R. 

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“Im a black woman whos been reading your blog and comments for awhile now. Despite your multiple posts on black love and forgiveness, Ive decided to give up on black men entirely and start dating women. Ive concluded that many women feel trapped in the black game. Black women supposed to be the ones who are always there for our men but they never seem to want to return the favor. Its almost like they expect it. They only notice you if you dress a certain way. They want you to put out as soon as they meet you and if you dont, they leave and find a woman who will. Then they curse her and call her a slut when there done. Im tired of the sex games with men. Im also tired of being the one to foot the bill. I feel like there looking for a reason to date and marry anyone except black women.

I also notive that when there with a white partner, theyll do anything to keep her happy. But they never do that with us. Frankly white women can have them. Many of them have nothing to offer a black woman anyway. Women are much more patient and loving when it comes on to relationships. Sorry fro the long post but its just how I feel “

My Vision Part 3

Ira Levin’s Truth in Plain Sight

(Remember my number one rule? “There are no coincidences in Jah’s World.” Did you know that Anton LaVey was the technical adviser to Polanski’s movie? Yes, that Polanski…the one who was indirectly involved in the Manson Murders)

I was out in the sun recently for an entire day. The powerful rays both charged me and exhausted me. Tired and hot, I came in and settle down for a cool shower, a salad full of greens and grilled chicken and fresh peppermint iced tea. Sleep was calling my name and I could not resist.

I saw a black baby being born in a hospital-like setting with white doctors and nurses and staff surrounding him. They took the child away from the now-exhausted mother to clean out his eyes and mouth. I watched myself in the room standing off to the side… observing them. They did not see or hear me. The doctor spoke in a tongue that was foreign to me and his words sounded like jargon. He went into the tiny refrigerator full of vials and removed a clear white liquid substance. He inserted the tiny needle and approached the African child. As if he sensed something, he looked right at me and what I saw next sent chills down my spine.

His eyes glowed. He looked like a man yet he was not. I stared at him transfixed and unable to move.

Then he proceeded to inject the liquid into the child as it writhed and screamed. I stood there frozen watching as he and the white nurse spoke in their jargon. The child settled down and was returned to the mother who happily accepted her child in her arms.

This latest vision of mine served as confirmation for something I long suspected was being done to our children in white, Jewish-owned hospitals. The inoculations that “mysteriously” cause autism and brain damage. The addiction to drugs like sugar at an early age which pave the way for other substances. Unsettling behaviour by our youth despite strict home training by the parents.

It is my firm belief that everything in this Babylonian system is geared towards our failure and extinction. Did you know at birth, in AmeriKlan hospitals, your black child is automatically tested for drugs WITHOUT THE CONSENT OR PERMISSION OF THE MOTHER? Did you know that the “big-name” hospitals (you know the ones…they have Jewish sounding names) have something called a DNA Bank where genetic material from the umbilical cord of a black child is stored for “research?”

When questioned about that “research” they falter and claim it is scientific and no further answers are given. I was in WI when the Swine Flu epidemic broke out. Milwaukee had “medical tents” set up for “vaccines” and pills to counter the virus. I saw, much to my dismay, hordes of black RN’s, CNA’s and staff running to be “vaccinated.” And when I tried to educate them on Tuskegee, they became defensive and irate.

Black family, before you give birth in a white owned hospital, please consider African mid-wifery and having your child at home. These are the small steps you can take to ensure the safety of your bloodline.

Soul Food

Whole Wheat Banana Bread Recipe

I just uploaded my favourite quick ‘n easy banana bread recipe. It has been a fan favourite in my family for as long as I can remember. This super simple yet nourishing recipe boasts an almost entirely wheat recipe with dark brown sugar. The texture is a bit rougher than white flour but fills you up a lot more.

I love it warm with Natural peanut butter. My mom loves hers with just a cup of tea. I hope you’ll try it and make it apart of your family favourite recipes. Available on my Etsy site in Word document.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/150275704/banana-wheat-bread-recipe?

Tell me your thoughts. Would you like more of my healthy kitchen recipes? Any special requests?

Do Black Women Regret Motherhood?

{Copied from Isabella Dutton’s story on yahoo.}

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“My son Stuart was five days old when the realisation hit me like a physical blow: having a child had been the biggest mistake of my life.

Even now, 33 years on, I can still picture the scene: Stuart was asleep in his crib. He was due to be fed but hadn’t yet woken.

I heard him stir but as I looked at his round face on the brink of wakefulness, I felt no bond. No warm rush of maternal affection.

I felt completely detached from this alien being who had encroached upon my settled married life and changed it, irrevocably, for the worse.

Regrets: Isabella says she has always wished she never gave had Stuart (left) Jo (right), pictured here in 1986Regrets: Isabella says she has always wished she never had Stuart (left) Jo (right), pictured here in 1986. But although she had always wanted to remain childless, she approached motherhood with diligence and devotion

I was 22 when I had Stuart, who was a placid and biddable baby. So, no, my feelings were not sparked by tiredness, nor by post-natal depression or even a passing spell of baby blues.

Quite simply, I had always hated the idea of motherhood. In that instant, any lingering hope that becoming a mum would cure me of my antipathy was dispelled.

I remember asking myself, ‘Is he really mine?’ He could, quite literally, have been anyone’s baby. Had a kind stranger offered to adopt him at that moment, I would not have objected.

Still, I wished no harm on Stuart and invested every ounce of my energy in caring for him. Even so, I know my life would have been much happier and more fulfilled without children.

Two years and four months after Stuart was born, I had my daughter Jo. It may seem perverse that I had a second child in view of my aversion to them, but I believe it is utterly selfish to have an only one.

Isabella Dutton would have been happier not having childrenIsabella Dutton would have been happier not having children

I felt precisely the same indifference towards her as I had to Stuart, but I knew I would care for Jo to the best of my ability, and love her as I’d grown to love him.

Yet I dreaded her dependence; resented the time she would consume, and that like parasites, both my children would continue to take from me and give nothing meaningful back in return.

Whenever I’ve told friends I wished I’d never had them, they’ve gasped with shock. ‘You can’t mean that?’ But, of course, I do.

To some, my life before I had the children may have seemed humdrum and my job as a typist was, it’s true, not much of a career. So what was the great sacrifice, you might think?

What I valued most in my life was time on my own; to reflect, read and enjoy my own company and peace of mind. And suddenly that peace and solitude wasn’t there any more. There were two small interlopers intruding on it. And I’ve never got that peace back.

I don’t know why I feel as I do. I’m one of five siblings and was raised in a happy family by loving parents. Dad was in the Army; Mum, whom he met while posted in Germany, brought us up in the West Midlands.

Mum and I were close; even as an adult I could always confide in her. My childhood was very happy and conventional. Like most little girls I played with dolls. But I never recall a time when I wanted those make-believe games of motherhood to become a reality.

I know there are millions who will consider me heinously cold-blooded and unnatural, but I believe there will also be those who secretly feel the same.

It’s just that I have been honest – some may contend brutally so – and admitted to my true feelings. In doing so I have broken a supposedly inviolable law of nature. What kind of mother, after all, wishes she hadn’t had children?

I have never hidden the truth from my husband Tony, now 62.

Resentment: Isabella says her son Stuart was five days old when she realised having a child had been the biggest mistake of her life. 'I resented the time my children consumed. Like parasites, they took from me and didn't give back,' she saysResentment: Stuart was five days old when Isabella realised having a child had been the biggest mistake of her life. ‘I resented the time my children consumed. Like parasites, they took from me and didn’t give back’

From the moment we decided we would be spending the rest of our lives together, I confessed I didn’t want to start a family.

We were childhood sweethearts.  We met when I was 12 and he was 16; he was my first and only love. I was 19 when I walked up the aisle, a joyful bride anticipating a happy life with the man I adored.

But I knew even then children would be a sticking point. Tony wanted four. I didn’t want any. We’d discussed the subject and I believe he thought I’d change my mind.

I suppose he imagined, as my friends started having babies, the urge to become a mum would overwhelm me. I hoped he’d change his mind.

‘I resented the time my children consumed. Like parasites, they took from me and didn’t give back’

When we married, we bought the three-bedroom house in Coventry that remains our home today. Tony pursued his passion for sports; my interests were more insular. I loved knitting, dressmaking and reading, and joined a book club.

Tony worked then, as he still does, as a pattern maker in the car industry. I was a typist in an office for a telecoms company.

After a couple of years of marriage, Tony began to ask whether I was still adamant that I didn’t want children. In the end I relented because I loved him and felt it would be unfair of me to deny him the chance to be a dad.

But there were provisos: if I was going to have children I knew absolutely – illogical as it may seem in view of my feelings – that I intended to raise them myself without any help from nannies or childminders.

This wasn’t a way of assuaging my guilt, because I felt none. It was simply that, having brought them into the world, I would do my best for them.

I cannot understand mothers who insist they want children – especially those who undergo years of fertility treatment – then race back to work at the earliest opportunity after giving birth, leaving the vital job of caring for them to strangers.

Isabella holds Baby Jo and son Stuart in 1981 at ChristmasIsabella holds Baby Jo and son Stuart in 1981 at Christmas

Why have them at all if you don’t want to bring them up, or can’t afford to? And why pretend you wanted them if you have no intention of raising them? This hypocrisy is, in my view, far more pernicious and difficult to fathom than my own admission that my life would have been better without children.

And here, perhaps, is the nub of it: I would not take on the job of motherhood and do it half-heartedly. Unlike so many would-be mums I thought hard about the responsibilities of my role, and, I believe, if more women did before rushing heedlessly into it, they might share my reservations.

I was acutely aware that a child would usurp my independence and drain my finances. I felt no excitement as my due date approached. I had no compulsion to fill the nursery with toys, nor did I read parenting manuals or swap tips with friends. I focused on enjoying the last months of my freedom.

Tony and I had a strong marriage – after 37 years, we still do – and I did not dread the effect of the baby on our relationship. Sure enough, we maintained an active and fulfilling sex life and made a date night each Friday when Tony’s parents babysat.

However, I did dread the encroachment of this demanding little being on my own independence.
So, in May 1979, Stuart was born, blue in the face as the cord was wrapped round his neck. While other mothers would be frantic with worry, I remained calm when the doctor whisked him away. I sent Tony back to work and for the next four hours I waited without any apprehension.

'There is no doubt I grew to love Stuart very much, and indeed still do. But I wished I had never had him'‘There is no doubt I grew to love Stuart very much, and indeed still do. But I wished I had never had him’

I did not really think about Stuart at all, until Tony returned after work and asked where he was.
He was fine, of course, but when they wheeled him back into the ward I did not experience that sudden leap of the heart that new mums are expected to feel. Instead I sat down with a cup of tea and thought bleakly, ‘What have I done?’

Back home, I resolved to breastfeed. I knew it would be best for Stuart and I think every mother should do it. But even during this intimate act, that elusive bond failed to form.

Stuart fed voraciously, every two hours. He seemed almost permanently attached to me, but the proximity of this suckling infant did not make me feel maternal.

I never wanted to hurt Stuart – I only wanted him to prosper and thrive. There is no doubt I grew to love him very much, and indeed still do. But I always wished I had never had him.

I told Tony, but if he was concerned, he didn’t show it. He just said, ‘Well we have him now. There’s nothing we can do about it. You just have to get on with it as best you can.’

And that’s exactly what I did. I believe I was a good mum, but never a doting one. When Stuart was three weeks old, I pushed him in his pram to the shops for the first time with our red setter Amber in tow. Outside the baker’s I tethered the dog to the pram and left Stuart outside with Amber while I bought a loaf and cakes.

‘Young children prevent you from being spontaneous; every outing becomes an expedition. If you take your job as a parent seriously, you always put their needs before your own’

It was not until I got home, made myself a cup of tea and started eating my cake, that I realised something was amiss. My dog wasn’t there waiting for her usual titbit.

So the first thought that impinged on me was: where is Amber? I missed the dog before it even occurred to me that I’d left Stuart outside the shop.

I can’t say, even then, that I was worried. I just rang the baker to check Stuart and the dog were still outside, retrieved them and came home.

At the baby clinic, other mums compared their babies’ weight and boasted about milestones they’d reached, but I was not remotely interested in such inconsequential matters, so I only went to the clinic once. When people peered into Stuart’s pram to coo over him and tell me what a lovely little chap he was, I thought, ‘That’s not true.’ He was not a beautiful baby.

Meanwhile, Tony discharged his duties as a dad brilliantly. He helped with the nappies, bathed Stuart, and when we were out, it was Daddy he went to for comfort if he fell.

Then, when Stuart was 18 months, we planned the second baby I’d promised to have. But I felt no more thrilled by the prospect of becoming a mum again than I did first time around. When Jo was born in August 1981, I remember how joyously Tony and his family greeted the news that I’d had a little girl.

I did not share their jubilation. But there was nothing for it but to get on with the job of bringing her up.

I did this diligently, but it was Tony who was the effusive and demonstrative Dad.

'I am a conscientious parent - yet perhaps I would have resented my children less had I not been'‘I am a conscientious parent – yet perhaps I would have resented my children less had I not been’

He loved the children to distraction, and as soon as they were old enough, he took them to the sports club where Stuart became an accomplished footballer. Jo tagged along too and it became something of a joke that she even asked her dad to take her when she wanted to go to the loo.

We created a routine where I ran the home, and when Tony was off work he looked after the kids. And I jealously guarded my time free of the children.

On our summer holidays, Tony and I had our rigidly defined roles. I did not look after the children when he was around. So as they played football, sat glued to the Grand Prix or watched the golf, I would creep back to our chalet and immerse myself in a good book. Other mums were running around like headless chickens after their children, but in our household Tony took that role.

We shared many happy times together; I did everything a good mother is supposed to. We had bucket-and-spade holidays on the Isle of Wight; there were endless sports events in which the children shone. I’m sure they would agree that they always felt secure and loved.

It was not that I seethed each day with resentment towards my children; more that I felt oppressed by my constant responsibility for them. Young children prevent you from being spontaneous; every outing becomes an expedition. If you take your job as a parent seriously, you always put their needs before your own.

Having children consigns you to an endless existence of shelling out financially and emotionally, with little or no return. It puts a terrible strain on your marriage and is perennially exhausting. And your job is never done.

I know my life with Tony would have been so much happier without children, less complicated and more carefree.

I don’t believe either that Stuart or Jo sensed any coolness on my part, although Jo once said, ‘You never tell me you love me, Mum.’ And I didn’t, it’s true. But I reassured Jo that I did love her. She and Stuart just accepted that I wasn’t demonstrative.

They grew, too, into well-adjusted adults. Stuart, 33, works in telecoms engineering as a supervisor.

He is married to Lisa, 37, a bank supervisor, and they have two lovely children. But before Stuart announced that he was to become a dad, he asked me if I’d like to become a granny. And I told him quite emphatically that I wouldn’t: I didn’t want my new-found freedom to be usurped by years of babysitting.

My controversial views didn’t shock him. He has always known I am forthright; he knows, too, having got my two grandchildren, I would knuckle down to my grandmotherly duties and acquit myself well.

Jo, 31, shares my opinion about motherhood: she has never wanted children; perhaps my views have shaped hers.

It is her tragedy that eight years ago she developed multiple sclerosis and had to give up her job as a chef. She is now bed-bound and lives with Tony and me.

I am her full-time carer and if I could have MS instead of her, I gladly would. She knows I would do anything to relieve her suffering and that I will care for her as long as I am able. I am 57 now and as I approach old age, I have an ever-more dependent daughter.

Yet I would cut off my right arm if she or Stuart needed it.

And that, maybe, is the paradox….”

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2303588/The-mother-says-having-children-biggest-regret-life.html#ixzz2QBku1S2N

Black Family,

This story resonates with me. An ex-coworker, a black woman, told me pretty much the same thing. She gave up her career, which she LOVED, she lost her sex drive, she lost friends who “couldn’t understand” that she was too tired to hang out and perhaps most disheartening, her husband left the primary responsibility of child rearing on her.

“I feel like a single mom”, were her exact words.

Do you think black women are experiencing the same things? Regret over marriage and having children? Do you believe that’s why so many black females are single? Refusal to “settle”?

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this provocative topic.

Black men, please chime in. I’d love your perspective.

The Double Standard

Double Standard in action

… As I see it black women aren’t marring outside of their race in vast numbers. We are waiting at the expense of never having a man or looking outside of the country. I know a sista who will go walking in a mall with a white guy from her work and she get these brothas who 1/2 the time are with white or Asian women, will find a way to come up to her and ask her what she is doing with that white man? They’ll be all up in her face and trying to talk to her the minute they see her. So even though black men date out, they do not like it when black women do. —- Honeytreebee

Sound familiar?

The universe and its melaninated peoples are now more in sync than ever. 2013 marked a new awakening for those of us that can “see.” We are saying the same things word for word, having the same conversations from all over the globe, wondering about the same issues and constantly asking, “What’s going on?”

When I read the comment posted above, I smiled to myself. Not because it was funny but because I just got off the phone with a buddy of mine about this uncomfortable topic. She told me of many, many, many sisters that are just fed up of the Double Standard that we (black women) face in regards to interracial relationships and are no longer waiting for a “good black man” to marry. They been deceived, heartbroken and disappointed too many times and have decided to find “love, respect and affection” (her words) outside of their race.

Why is it that only black males are allowed and even encouraged to fornicate, marry and spawn with white women (and any other woman for that matter) and expect the black woman to “understand his nature” and “put up with it” and “take him back”, but when she imitates his behaviour, mostly out of frustration and disenfranchisement, and has a white husband or lover, he becomes irate, demands an explanation and berates her for her betrayal of their race? 

That was the gist of our discussion and she really laid it down for me.

Hard.

“Truth, I’m tellin’ ya, they’ve been doing this shit since the plantation. In fact, when miscegenation laws were removed, that was the first thing they did…seek out the white woman…I mean, even white people notice it.”

I listened and cringed as she spoke her mind quite harshly, only interrupting her to remind her that the black woman’s role was to be the glue that held the family together. She cut me off.

“What what about the his role, dammit?”

This topic will no doubt be inflammatory and painful so I’m asking the black family to be mindful of words which have the power to hurt us all.

Dear Truthbetold

This arrived in my mailbox from one of my black readers:

“I just had a question. I read something on your blog about this I think and I can’t find it.

I get hit on by a lot of white guys. Not so much black guys. They like the mixed girls or white girls. Not all but many. White guys seem to appreciate me more? They love my hair, skin, eyes, lips everything. They could be just trying to charm me or it could all be lies but I feel more beautiful around them. Yeah it’s a shame. Not too many black guys make me feel beautiful. It’s like they don’t like their own women (again, not all black guys). But ANYWAY, I am kind of dating this one white guy and he is very nice, a gentlemen and very open with how he feels.

I do get paranoid sometimes b/c my mom tells me about back in slavery days how they used to rape and abuse black women. She always tells me to be careful. Even now they only see us as “sexual creatures” nothing more. I remember reading something like this on your blog and hearing about it as well.

What do you think?
Maybe a good blog post as well.
I just hate being paranoid…he’s a nice guy. I just don’t want to feel like an experiment. It’s okay to be curious but I’m not a test subject.” {End letter}

Sadly, this isn’t the first black woman who has admitted to me that she felt that way. Any advice for this young lady? Any thoughts on why the younger generation is headed down this road?

Eating to Live

anybody know some good healthy food recipes to eat? i’m trying to eat healthy but don’t want to be a vegan lol.  —-  mstoogood4yall

With the black obesity pandemic reaching epic proportions, this post is looooong over due. When I traveled across this country, I found vegetarian shops, vegan shops and “raw” food shops. None were in our neighbourhoods. In fact, most of us do not know what to eat in order to live healthy lives. Since I come from farmers and my gardening is my pride and joy, Ms. Too Good, this is for you:

This recipe is super easy, tasty and cheap! I still make this and it tastes good every time:

6 cups cooked brown rice or black (but black is more expensive)

1 can black or red kidney beans, rinsed and drained

1 cup freshly diced tomatoes

1/2 cup red onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 cayenne pepper, chopped or 1/2 tsp. cayenne powder

2 tblsp olive oil

1/2 cup fresh parsley

1/2 cup scallions

cut up cooked chicken, with no fat

Place all ingredients in a wok and stir-fry til hot. Serve with fresh parsley.

Can any of you give Ms. Too Good some healthy eating recipes that you love?

Introducing Ajualuv: Store Envy

Ajua

First, have you ever seen a more perfect creature in your life? This very determined and ambitious woman not only has her own company:

And her own blog:
But, she also holds holistic health seminars, group art therapy sessions, promotes healing through crystals and knowledge of our chakras and, if that’s not enough, she will hopefully purchase a building filled with all-natural products to promote African Healing and self-awareness!
Whew!
How does she do all that and find time to sleep?

I am a writer and artist, the eternal student, always learning and growing along my journey, whether in a formal institution or sitting with Mamma Nature.  I hold degrees in the African way of life, Religion, and (man’s) Law from Tufts University, the School of Oriental and African Studies (University of London), and Howard University School of Law.  I was trained in painting and art at the age of 7 by Mr. Joe Pinckney and continued my study of art at programs held at Cornell University and Parsons School of Design.  I am a Reiki Level II practitioner trained at The Reiki School and Clinic in Philadelphia, PA and Holistic Passages in Woodbury, NJ.

My love of travel began at the age of 13 when I travelled to Russia on the People to People Program.  I then lived in Belgium for a year on a Rotary scholarship as a teenager and in England for several years while working for the Africa Centre in Covent Garden.  I have visited over 15 countries.

Currently residing on Power Hill, I spend my days loving my King and building our kingdom, creating in the food laboratory and on canvas, reading and writing about metaphysical wonders, and practicing meditation and spiritual healing.  I continue my studies (both formally and informally) in metaphysical matters, energy healing, herbs, crystals, shamanism, the matrix, and meditation.

I use this blog as an accountability partner, a tool to help me be the woman I want to be at all times.  I write about listening to Mamma Nature and following her guidance on what to cook, cultivate and cleanse — Ajua

I stole a peek at her store, Store Envy and saw this:

Cowry Earrings

You know how I feel about my shells…

Please support this young woman in her quest for black independence! Shop with us and us only!

Blacks and Health: A Natural Way to Heal Part 8

Zingiber officinale

The first time I tasted ginger, my heart sped up and I began to sweat. Then, an incredible warmth overcame me and I felt wonderful. The power of ginger has had me hooked for decades. This spicy, delicious root is as old as time. Cousins of this root are cardamom and turmeric. I actually grated this and use it in my humidifier in the spring to combat my allergies.

Ginger, in the Caribbean and Africa, is dried and sweetened with honey/ molasses and sold as ginger “candy.” Pastries and teas are a BIG export using this aromatic plant, especially Jamaican Ginger Beer. The health benefits for this root are:

It thins the blood, preventing blood clots

Helps with nausea/ seasickness/ morning sickness

Lowers cholesterol

Painful Menstruation

Combats arthritis

Poor circulation or “colds hands and feet”

I make ginger iced tea year round. Here is my simple recipe:

Peppermint leaves

2 tablespoons fresh grated ginger

honey

lemon slices

Boil about 2-3 cups water and add ginger and peppermint leaves. Let seep for 15 minutes. Add honey and fresh lemon slices when cooled.

Next Article: Cloves

Blacks and Health: The Natural Way to Heal Part 7

Garlic

Did you know that garlic is actually in the onion family?

Cousins of this smelly bulb are shallots, chives and leeks. Over 7,ooo years old, this African plant/bulb has been used for its wonderful health benefit. Its hydrogen sulfide production is well-known amongst herbalists to help prevent colon, breast and prostate cancers.

Aside from being delicious in culinary cuisine, garlic protects the heart by:

Increasing blood flow to the arteries

Lowering cholesterol levels in the blood

Combating high blood pressure (when made into a tea)

Lowering blood sugar levels

When we were living in NYC, there was a little bakery that sold garlic knots. Drenched in garlic and fresh oregano, I inhaled these to the point of needing 2 showers a day! LOL!

I put garlic in just about everything I cook including fish and my stews. My friend eats garlic raw (followed by a tall drink of water) and urges us to incorporate this heart friendly bulb in all dishes.

Next article: Ginger

Fear of Mother Earth: Why The Black Woman Must be Destroyed in the System of White Supremacy

Look at this woman.

She has glowing chocolate skin, a round soft nose, full lips and eyes to die for.

She is pretty? Does she threaten you? Does being in her presence make you, for reasons you cannot explain, uncomfortable? When you gaze at her, do you think she is the epitome of womanliness?

Chances are, if you live in AmeriKlan, the answer is no. This woman is the complete antithesis of everything AmeriKlan stands for. Therefore, she must be mocked, hunted and destroyed.

(As you can see, the hatred of black womanhood was instilled in us from childhood)

The black woman is propagandized to be on the very bottom of the human ladder. Not only is her shade offensive but her genitalia as well. With a naturally curvaceous figure, thick lips and prominent features, she is deemed unworthy of compliments, unworthy of adulation, unworthy of male protection and unworthy of love. Sarah Baartman was a side-show attraction:

But her “uniqueness” was a source of white envy:

Hmmm…..I thought we black females were “gross”?

The white man, throughout history, went to the black woman for everything of sustenance and perceived value:

That notion is still not lost on the white mind. With a rapidly decreasing birthrate and a higher incidence of abortion, whites are quickly becoming extinct. Destroying the Earth Mother by getting our own men and women to berate her is a surefire tactic to continue the “Pure White Gene.”

The black woman’s degradation will make her termination not only acceptable but agreeable. A big nose, full lips, kinky/curly hair, which is the opposite of white standards, was made horrific to uphold the white standard of beauty. The destruction of the black female is a very calculated form of psychological warfare. White supremacy thought of the one thing necessary to keep the black family structure together and sought to have it eliminated.

J Edgar Hoover wanted to “prevent the rise of a Black Messiah”:

COUNTERINTELLIGENCE PROGRAM BLACK NATIONALIST – HATE GROUPS RACIAL INTELLIGENCE 3/4/68 […] GOALS ~~~~~ For maximum effectiveness of the Counterintelligence Program, and to prevent wasted effort, long-range goals are being set.

1. Prevent the COALITION of militant black nationalist groups. In unity there is strength; a truism that is no less valid for all its triteness. An effective coalition of black nationalist groups might be the first step toward a real “Mau Mau” [Black revolutionary army] in America, the beginning of a true black revolution.

2. Prevent the RISE OF A “MESSIAH” who could unify, and electrify, the militant black nationalist movement. Malcolm X might have been such a “messiah;” he is the martyr of the movement today. Martin Luther King, Stokely Carmichael and Elijah Muhammed all aspire to this position. Elijah Muhammed is less of a threat because of his age. King could be a very real contender for this position should he abandon his supposed “obedience” to “white, liberal doctrines” (nonviolence) and embrace black nationalism. Carmichael has the necessary charisma to be a real threat in this way.

3. Prevent VIOLENCE on the part of black nationalist groups. This is of primary importance, and is, of course, a goal of our investigative activity; it should also be a goal of the Counterintelligence Program to pinpoint potential troublemakers and neutralize them before they exercise their potential for violence.

4. Prevent militant black nationalist groups and leaders from gaining RESPECTABILITY, by discrediting them to three separate segments of the community. The goal of discrediting black nationalists must be handled tactically in three ways. You must discredit those groups and individuals to, first, the responsible Negro community. Second, they must be discredited to the white community, both the responsible community and to “liberals” who have vestiges of sympathy for militant black nationalist [sic] simply because they are Negroes. Third, these groups must be discredited in the eyes of Negro radicals, the followers of the movement. This last area requires entirely different tactics from the first two. Publicity about violent tendencies and radical statements merely enhances black nationalists to the last group; it adds “respectability” in a different way.

5. A final goal should be to prevent the long-range GROWTH of militant black organizations, especially among youth. Specific tactics to prevent these groups from converting young people must be developed. […]

 

They knew that black women could be the most dangerous weapon against white supremacy.

As you can surmise, the black female is targeted for extermination and any and all means will be used to bring their diabolical plans to fruition. Please know that numerous black males and females on tel-lie-vision and radio are being paid large sums of money to sell out their own people. Disconnect from the lies being spewed at us and realize that the best kind of warfare is psychological. Whites have not changed their tactics. They have just made them more covert.

Black With Envy

Are White Women Mutilating Themselves Trying to Look Black? An Analysis
 
By Xavier James { thank you Mr. James for a great article }
I’ve spoken to a lot of black women who had been accused (not by me of course) of trying to look white. Although the majority of them denied the allegation, the majority of them also attributed these changes to the latest style or fashion trend. But in hindsight they were directly or subconsciously imitating what white society dictated to be the standard of beauty. You’ll be surprised what people will do to belong, to get ahead or simply survive. For centuries now, black women have felt pressured to meet a European standard of beauty, style and etiquette. And for the most part black women imitated their white counterparts as a way of coping or dealing with the rigors of the white ruling class placing their white woman and anything she wore, said or did above anything else. After so much of her own culture and style was withheld, shamed or beaten out of her the only thing the black woman could do is imitate her oppressors. In doing so the black woman soon found more and more doors opening up for her.
However, beneath the black woman’s European dresses, blond hair weave, designer make-up and green contact lenses was her uniquely chiseled lips, hips, breasts and buttocks They hadn’t changed. And white women never let them forget that for a second. They teased, taunted and psychologically tormented black women so much about their non- European, non-white features and darker complexions, that some black women began bleaching their skin, getting nose jobs and starving themselves half to death hoping to lose their big, round unacceptable buttocks. These are the same Europeans who in 1810 kidnapped an African woman (Sarah Bartmaan), put her in a cage naked, and traveled around the country making fun of her big butt, lips and skin. These are the same white folks who put Ota Benga in a cage inside the Bronx Zoo to make fun of his African features as well. Then with the unilateral help of white men controlling the media (movies, television, magazines and newspapers) the lilly white image of the thin white woman was practically deified around the world but especially throughout America……UNTIL NOW!
 Beautiful images of black women began to surface and before long black women began to see themselves through their own eyes. They realized that they too were beautiful; their hair, their eyes, their noses, their lips, and their hips were perfect. Once the vale had been removed the world wanted, needed to see more. People began to look at the world around them through their own eyes instead of through the skewed blue eyes of those trying to create an alternate reality. As the world began to see more and more black women, the more they wanted to see. Big lips and big hips were all the rage. The same media that was used to degrade black women(and men) suddenly found itself in a battle to control the public thirst for more.  But they couldn’t. The women who were once worshiped by every culture and race on the planet as goddesses, were back!

White women, feeling left out and rejected, complained to their male counterparts about all the attention they were giving black women, so they of course had to come up with a plausible solution. First, to prove they were not self absorbed or materialistic, white women went out and adopted as many black babies as they could get their hands on. That would prove to the world they could be better mothers to black children then black mothers themselves could be; without the post traumatic stress that came from slavery or segregation. It was cool, trendy and attention grabbing but then the novelty wore off and they were back to square one.

Secondly, They needed to look the part. The collective subconscious mind of White women realized they weren’t just competing with black women but the onslaught of Latino women as well. Latino women were coming out of the woodwork and being lauded and applauded as the next big thing. And these Latino women came with their own lips and hips to boot. They weren’t just maids and housekeepers they were mistresses and lovers. And white men were once again sneaking out to the maids quarters- as they use to do to the slave quarters, to sleep with the hired help. In order to win back the attention of not just their white men but black men as well, white women were forced to take more extreme measures.
Tan in a can flew off the shelves. Tanning salons were booked to capacity. And you couldn’t find an empty spot on the beach where a white woman wasn’t lying there, baking in the sun, trying to get darker. Collagen became the latest craze, then Botox the greatest thing since high heels. And now butt lifts are the norm and injections are an everyday outpatient occurrence around the country. White women no longer want the flat, pancake rear ends their momma use to have, no they want the new, round, black behind; and they’ll do anything to get it. White women are getting breasts on credit and Brazilian butt lifts in the back of  shady doctor’s offices as some would be nurse administers anesthesia while looking out for the cops.


I haven’t seen a white woman on television in years with her own lips or breasts. They all look like black lip wanna bees, cartoon-ish, animated versions of real lips. The same full luscious lips white folks teased and tormented black folks for having, white women are disfiguring themselves to obtain. And now white men are describing their bigger lips as “pouty.”  And the ones that are disfigured; “trout pouts” and “duck lips.” The increase in failed medical procedures extend to Botox and botched butt-lifts. That’s right; White women are dying for black butts. Butt infections are rampant; followed by discoloration and lumps that require corrective surgery. White women are paying unlicensed providers then bending over and getting injected with substances that aren’t even meant to go inside the human body. Why? Because THEY DON’T WANT A FLAT BUTT ANYMORE! In Russia only 1 out of 4 plastic surgery procedures are successful, leaving thousands of women scarred or disfigured. American statistics are not as high but thousands die from complications none the less.
Is it self esteem, fad or overindulgence that’s fueling this self image debacle? Thousands of women mutilating themselves trying to look like something other then what they are. After seeing Lisa Rinna’s lips why would any white women still take a chance on a procedure that could leave them looking like Donatella  Versace? What’s been fueling this obsession?
Could it be the white male collective pushing white women to such drastic measures? I did a history check and found out that white men have always went to the black woman for anything of substance. When he needed his clothes ironed, he got the black woman to do it.

When he needed his house cleaned, he got the black woman to do it. When he needed his food cooked it was the black woman who fed him. The black woman even pulled out her breast and fed his children while his white wife watched. Who’s bed was he sneaking off to get into as soon as his white wife was asleep? That’s right;  the black woman.  Arnold Schwarzeneggerand Strom Thurmond are perfect examples of that. White males own and run the media. They drive the train of popular thought that creates the reality most people live in.  Could they be the architects driving this subconscious train  wreck of white female mutilations? Are they trying to make white women into the black women of their dreams? If we are to subscribe to the Freudian school of thought then the answer would be an absolute “yes.”  I laughed when I read the Psychology Today article claiming black women were less attractive. I knew it was propaganda and psychological fodder to soothe angry white women.

I’ve seen documentaries detailing chemicals in the food and drinking water changing the body structure of  white women;  giving them more shapely figures. These same chemicals  make black women develop faster however white women develop differently. Where there was no shape in the vast majority of white women ten or twenty years ago, white women are now sporting thicker, more developed bodies.
A 65 year old white woman pulled up next to me at the light the other day. Her lips were so swollen and disfigured that I thought she’d been beaten up. “Botox” my girl nudged me. I knew those weren’t her regular lips because the crows feet (wrinkles) around her eyes and mouth exposed her age. She looked animated; disfigured. And why would this old woman disfigure herself trying to get a pair of black lips? That’s when I remember what my grandma said; “black don’t crack.” But more importantly she (they) white women collectively have always wanted thick, juicy lips and child bearing hips. But since they couldn’t have them, they tormented black women because they did. That’s how envy works.
 Envy (also called invidiousness) is best defined as an emotion that “occurs when a person lacks another’s (perceived) superior quality, achievement, or possession and either desires it or wishes that the other lacked it.  –Wikipedia
Only medical science and technology has allowed this generation of white women to achieve what their parent’s could only dream of; having black features. But at what cost? And is their new, more ethnic features going to change the way they view themselves or is the solution a lot more complex then mere cosmetic surgery? I’ve noticed Hollywood has been hiring a lot of white actresses with these new and improved features and giving them roles black women should be playing. White Beauty pageant contestants are poppin’ up everywhere with these new ‘pouty’ lips. Magazines are featuring more and more white women with defined curves, and less with the old ironing board behinds; making it difficult to immediately determine what their nationality really is.
Are white women becoming the new black women and should black women be concerned?
Is it a complement to black women? Or is the aim to replicate and replace black women? Are white women stealing these black features in an attempt to maintain their white superiority status?
It’s too bad Sarah Bartmaan can’t be here to see this. Oh, and that brings me back to my original question:
ARE WHITE WOMEN MUTILATING THEMSELVES TRYING TO LOOK BLACK? NO. THEY’RE MUTILATING THEMSELVES TRYING NOT TO LOOK WHITE!
Rapper Ice T went out and found a white woman and literally tried to turn her black. He changed her breasts, put implants in her butt, botox in her lips, sometimes corn rolls in her hair and demands that she maintains a deep, dark tan.

Although completely void of talent, white men (and some Negroes) constantly praise and adore Kim Kardashian for nothing more then going out and getting black features.

Can you imagine having to kiss those lips?

White women are now risking their lives to look like the black women they’ve historically 
taunted and oppressed?

…And the mutilation continues

The Benefits of Black Rice

“Anything white is bad for the African”—Dr. Afrika

Like brown rice, black rice is full of antioxidant-rich bran, which is found in the outer layer that gets removed during the milling process to make white rice. But only black-rice contains the antioxidants known as anthocyanins, purple and reddish pigments — also found in blueberries, grapes, and acai — that have been linked to a decreased risk of heart disease and cancer, improvements in memory, and the maintenance of high blood pressure and diabetes. 

The combination of antioxidants found in black rice packs a one-two punch that could make it a particularly good food for your health. Mostly found in China, this beneficial rice isn’t well known to the black populous ..or made easily affordable:

http://www.tropicaltraditions.com/organic_heirloom_rice.htm?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cse&utm_term=OHRFRO&gclid=CKWb_vnQiLMCFUOK4AodNAsAyg

The lowest price is $3.59 for only 15 ounces!!!

Whilst traveling across the nation, I’ve only found black rice in certain white dominated whole foods / organic stores in California.

Black rice is very good for:

1. Your kidneys

2. Your colon

3. Your liver

The three main organs blacks need for good health. Black rice is grown and shipped primarily from mainland China…which is ironic because rice comes from Africa.

Once our communities are strengthened by our own efforts, I hope one day we will have access to fresh farmer’s markets where beneficial and life-saving natural foods will be apart of our daily habits. In the meantime, please consider growing your herbs and vegetables like I do in the wintertime:

The Black Dynamic Under White Supremacy

Is this what we’ve come to? Is this why Garvey fought? Hannibal fought? Zulu fought?

Finish This Sentence #4

Let’s take a much needed break and have some fun…

If I could be any musician/singer/songwriter, I’d be…

I’ll go first…I’d be none other than….Ella Fitzgerald!

Who would you be?

Dr. Afrika on Melanin Parts 5 and 6

Here are the final parts on the wonders of Melanin by Dr. Afrika.

Soul Music

We need a thread on the music that gets us through some of the more trying moments, as well as what we listen to when we just sit back and run it all through our minds.   —–   Ron

Ok Sir, as you wish:

Ok….your turn…

Lupe’s Explanation

Have I ever told you that Jah speaks to me. He “tells” me what to write and what words to use to reach out to my readers.  On Sunday, I was outside, tending to my garden, soaking up the sun when I asked God to give me another idea to discuss and evaluate. Then, out of the blue, HungLikeJesus contacted me and asked me to watch a video and possibly use it on my next topic.

The Most High sure does work in mysterious ways.

Question time:

1. What messages did you get from this.

2. Are the videos that show “Coonin’ Time” to be blamed for the breakdown of little black girls and boys’ morale and self-image? If so, where are the parents?

3. Why aren’t more videos like this one in the mainstream media? Is it because the “need” isn’t there or because blacks aren’t interested in this type of hip-hop?

Black vs. Black…Male Against Female Part 2.

*deep breath…again*

Last time we explored the female dynamic and how she relates to black men. Now we must explore the reverse. When I was in South Carolina on assignment, I met a young black man who worked in the transportation department. He was built rather slim and reminded me of Spike Lee. When he found out I loved Otis Redding, we become fast friends. One night whilst working the graveyard shift, he came down to drop off a patient who needed to use the restroom immediately. While I waited for her to be done, he began to open up to me.

His eyes roamed my face, stopping briefly on my lips, then continued to look at me with such intensity, I began to feel uneasy. Then he spoke.

You know…you’re light-skinned enough and all but black women just don’t do it for me.”

I looked at him quizzically. I knew to be insulted by his callous remark but curiosity won over. I never had a man, any man, especially a black one, tell me that my colouring offended him. Plus, I was taken and he knew this. I wondered why he felt the need to tell me this. So I asked, ” Ok…ummm…first, you know I’m off the market, right?”

“Yeah…it’s just that I’m not into black girls.”

I was stunned. I’ve never had a black man tell me this to my face.

“Why? What’s wrong with us?” Now the insult had sunk in.

“No offense or nuthin’ but black women are just too much work for me.” He said this matter-of-factly. Self-assuredly. Like black women are a monolithic group like on Maury.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Too much work? How? Since when is a woman “work”? He went on to tell me that black women are argumentative and stubborn. They never do as they are told and are too demanding sexually. White women are happy just to have a man and will do anything to hang on to him. In the bedroom, he’s in charge. And she never objects. For the first time in my life, I. Was. Speechless.

In a daze, never noticed my patient was finished in the bathroom and was ready for her pre-surgical procedure. This man never showed shame or remorse  for his callous comment of the Original Woman. He said this so casually, I wondered where this misconception came from. Then my friend told me about this:

It seems that black women have been at center of scorn, racial animus, envy, buffoonery, abuse, rejection, rape and degradation from day one. We’ve been told not just by white society that we are worthless, but by our own men who would rather be with any other race other than us. Why?

1. Since Miss Becky lured Willie from the corn fields into her bedroom, the game has been played and over-played ad nauseum:

2. White women bring a sense of accomplishment to the injured black male ego.

3. Black women are only out for a black man’s money.

4. Black women will not produce pretty spawn with “good hair” and pleasing features.

5. Black women are loud, argumentative, stubborn, out for revenge and petty.

6. You cannot climb into high society with a black woman, especially if she’s dark skinned.

7. Internalized racism and societal brainwashing clouds the judgment of black men.

8. Dark-skinned women are out of the question but “high-yellow” types are passable:

9. Black women are underserving of love and affection so whatever happens to them is justified:

10. Black men are simply not attracted to black women.

11. Latina women are a pleasing “buffer” to appease the black man’s ego while giving him a “distant sense of Africa”:

12. If all else fails, an Asian woman will provide you with an utmost sense of masculinity:

Now, now….before y’all get riled up, I know darn well that this is but a myth. In fact, the majority of black men would rather befriend, date, marry and spawn with black women. But…for every black man that “appears” to hate his woman, he gives ALL black men a bad name. And for some reason, the stereotype sticks.

Since this post will probably be just as heated as Female Vs. Male Part 1, all I ask for is mature responses.

Black Vs Black…Female Against Male Part 1.

*deep breath*

(The comments will be a bloody nightmare but let’s just do this.)

Truth, I’m done with black men.” That was the statement uttered with certainty and utmost calm by my black co-worker. She, like myself, is an educated professional woman in medicine. She is a Chief Echocardiographer, no easy feat for a black woman; Ultra schooled, upper-middle class, owns her own home outright, confident and so damn attractive, you can’t help but stare at her, she’s quite a sight.

“Why?” I wanted to chuckle but seriousness of her tone told me to keep quiet. “What did they do?”

Are you freakin’ kidding me? Look at them! No job. No ambition. Still living at home. And let’s be honest. Finding a black man on my level is going to be next to impossible. ”

I nodded slowly not knowing how to respond. What should I say? X, you’re being ridiculous? Black men have it twice as hard as we do so cut the brothers some slack? You’re a snob and your job and title has gone to your head? Black men with an education and position do exist because I’ve met them. Shut up now…you’re making all black women look bad?

“Besides”, she continued “Most educated black men have white women as girlfriends and wives.”

*deep sigh*

O.k…

Here we go…

The dynamic between black man and black woman has been rooted in passionate love, domestic violence, self-realization, self-hate, fatherlessness, the euphoria of education and success, drug abuse, the Civil Rights Movement, moving into the status of “middle class” from the ghettoes, abandonment, childbirth/ child rearing, a white Jesus, the MEDIA and the black church ever since we came here from that little boat ride. That’s a lot to deal with! When all was said and done, we did the absolute unthinkable; we turned on each other.

Black men, propagandazied as monkeys, criminals, worthless, animals, unkempt and unfaithful, began to fall victim to the worst slavery of all…mental slavery. This is not an excuse for bad behaviour, but a study in why certain behaviours occur within our community.

In the recent decades, black women have risen in different areas of  education. Today, black women are in fields that were traditionally made for white males. Since I do not believe anything written about us by whites, I will not quote statistics on college education and employment by gender. Not only does the black woman make the bread and butter but she is the matriach of her family. She tends to the kids homework, attends PTA meetings, cooks, does laundry and sexually services her man. Without her, the family unit suffers.

The black man, on the other hand, scrutinized and made to be “suspicious”, is often denied work no matter how qualified. Stereotyped as lazy and driven out of the workforce under the clever guise of a lay-off, he is under immense pressure. Implosion comes, unfortunately, when he finds no release for his angst, depression and anger.

Remember this?

This broke my heart. And made me weep when I heard sisters use this as an excuse to give up on our men.

This is my supposition as to why:

1. Black men are too damaged and not worth “fixing.”

2. They’re broke.

3. White men will wine and dine; black men are clueless when it comes to romance. For them is all about sex.

4. Her education/position/status brainwashes her into believing he’s not good enough for her.

5. She wants to elevate herself into middle / upper class status and a black man “won’t do it for her.”

6. He wants her to take care of him.

7. He’s abusive.

8. Other black men have failed her consistently and she’s not willing to try again.

9. She’s a golddigger and the fastest way to get to the top is with a white man at her side.

10. She’s happy with work, friends, God, hobbies  and family and doesn’t need / want / care to be bothered.

Any thoughts? Do you agree/disagree? Why?

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