Mosiah

 Boy am I happy that I took in the event put on by the Miramar City Council.

What is uncanny too is how much the writer and actor who played Marcus Garvey in this enthralling production looks like Jamaica's 1st National Hero.

Samuel  Fudge, actor writer of Mosiah.

While actor Fudge did not appear in person, we heard from him via zoom.  

He is an American but his journey to Garveyism is absolutely fascinating.

No wonder he put his heart and soul into the role.

Mosiah is not Garvey's life story but just his experiences leading up to, and during the rigged trial organized by J. Edgar Hoover, who was determined to lock him up and ultimately deport him to Jamaica.

Garvey was his own lawyer during the trial and Fudge was amazing in the role.

A poem was dedicated to Garvey 

We also got from the movie, some snippets of  Garvey's childhood in St. Ann, which had such everlasting effect in molding the great man.

Garvey scholar and lecturer, Steve Golding.

Tenor Steve Higgins sang the UNIA's National Anthem.

At the event in Miramar, well known scholar Steven Golding, gave some additional insights into the life of the great man. 

Education like that you can't get elsewhere!

In addition to the enlightening and educational aspect, well- known Jamaican cultural group Ashe delighted us with their interpretation of four of Bob Marley's classics.

                        Ashe in full flight .

I had followed them from their inception but had lost track of them. So was happy to see they are still in top form.

 An unforgettable night. 

Big of the Jamaican Consulate 👏 which is so proactive in keeping our story on the front page and our culture on the front burner.

Out of Africa

“If we as a people realized the greatness from which we came, we would be less likely to disrespect ourselves.” ― Marcus Mosiah Garvey

 Biden’s legacy in the USA has not been particularly good, dropping from 61% in 2021 to a mere 37% favorability today, according to some polls. 

However, I suspect that with his pardoning our first national hero, Pan-Africanist Hon. Marcus Mosiah Garvey, it will be much higher among Jamaicans.

I am of course aware that we still have a significant number of Jamaicans who do not wish to highlight or celebrate our association with Africa or may even not realize the revolutionary developments made on the continent before slavery distorted the records, so of course they will not celebrate.

I know these people are an insignificant minority, but even I know at least one such person! And while I know he is also a staunch MAGA, when I texted him the news about Garvey, even I was shocked when he replied that Garvey was a criminal and shouldn’t be pardoned!  

Oh well, every human, no matter how accomplished, will always have detractors.

So, while we and most of the black world may celebrate this pardon as a great first step, we must be cognizant of the fact that in the USA which leads the white world, it will probably take another century before he is recorded in their textbooks as anything but a criminal, as my daughter who is a teacher in Colorado tells me is the current situation.

In the meantime, I am waiting to see how long it will take for Jamaica to introduce the philosophies of Garvey in our own schools!

My interest in Africa and things African did not start today, as from my paternal grandmother told me when I was around six years old, that we were descendants of the warrior Mandingo tribe and therefore must always stand up for our rights, I have always wanted to visit the continent and know more about my heritage.

However, due to the immense cost of traveling to the continent, I never got the opportunity to do so until friends invited me to visit them in Kenya in 2018. (That was after I had moved to the USA where we can find good airfares, due to the competition among the myriad of airlines here.)

My most culturally insightful trip to the continent however did not take place not until 2023, when my granddaughter, daughter, and I visited Ghana to get our true names, on a trip organized by my daughter, an active member of Black Lives Matter.

 There, the names you are given have real meaning, as they depend on your age, the day on which you were born, your gender, the position you fall among your siblings etc.

My African name is Korleki and I am now a member of the Krobo Tribe. 

 Ghanaians know which tribe someone belongs to by their name.

 Our naming ceremony was performed in the village of Odumase Krobo, which is around four hours away by road from the capital Accra. 

 Before going to the community center where the ceremony was performed, we had to stop to pay homage to our Chief Nene Sakitey, who was also President of the Ghanaian Council of Chiefs, an elected position.

 He told us through an interpreter, that all African descendants born in the diaspora are welcomed to his country, but we must always have an open mind, as there are many cultural differences.

(That’s when I learned that women were not allowed to cross their legs when sitting in the presence of the Chief!😢)

 At that session, I also learned a few tribal differences too. For example, different tribes have different naming rituals, so members of the Ashanti tribe have names all beginning in AS. 

Further, Krobo parents can only pass down their surnames to their children, but it's different in the Ashanti. Also, because African names are so difficult to pronounce, many Ghanaians use their surnames as first names when introducing themselves!

 It was a most enlightening and educational session with our Chief.

 Later at the actual naming ceremony, I found that aspects of the rituals there were similar to what the Accompong Maroons practice at their annual festival in St. Elizabeth.

 So libation, (where liquor is poured on the ground for the ancestors)  is continuous and the drumming and dancing is similar. However, while in Ghana the liquor used was vodka and none was imbibed during the ceremony, our Maroons (in Jamaica) use white rum and sip a lot of it regularly.

 More on my experiences in Ghana anon.

 

 

 

 

 

                                                    

 

 

 

 

 

 

     

 

 

 

 

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History 101

 Often, when you hear 'history,' words like boring or tragic may spring to mind, but not history 101. 

For whenever Maxine "Queenie" Osborne is involved, everything changes.

😊

The engaging Queenie arrives on stage dressed in a school uniform. 

Yup it was our true history, as she traced events from Columbus' brutality to the joys that being Jamaican bring to life.

 It was  entertaining, delightful and   

educational.

In no time, this amazing actress and the versatile Tallawah Mento band led by Colin Smith O.M., had the entire audience rocking and participating in every skit. For the band was also an integral part of the act!

Maxine started out with laughs as she emerged as a troublesome lkkle pickney before delving into serious business like the wisdom of Miss. Lou, the ever-relevant philosophies of Garvey, the bravery of Queen Nanny and the unbreakable spirit of the Jamaican woman.

 I must admit that when it came to the description and uses of popular herbs, I learned a lot and like the rest of the audience, had fun.

Maxine even brought out the acting and singing abilities of some in the audience as we all happily participated in the skits and rocked non-stop to contagious Mento music.

 It was a seamless performance and the audience would have loved if it continued all night. But alas, the library closed at 8 pm.

Malachi gets down with Maxine.

Tallawah Mento band kept us rocking the entire evening.

Big up Director/Dub Poet Malacai and the talented team.

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Touring Accra

 Today we should have gone to Shai Hills to see animals, but it was raining hard in the morning and the weather report predicted all day rain.

As usual,  they were wrong😡.

 Unfortunately we never knew they were until later, so we played tourist around Accra.

First we went to the colorful craft market.

Xylophone maker demonstrates his craft 

In the colorful craft market 

Then on to Black Star Square, also known as Independence Square.

At Black Star Square. The round building behind is the stadium.

This is the Kwame Nkrumah memorial

The square was completed in 1961 and it's where the annual independence celebrations as well as other national events and military parades are held.

The black star, (otherwise called the "Lodestar of African Freedom",) became the symbol of Pan Africanism and anti-colonialism in 1957  and was used in the design of the Flag of Ghana.

Then we went to the W.E.B DuBois museum.

I had no idea this outstanding black American intellectual and civil rights activist had moved to Ghana when his passport was seized by the American authorities.

 He lived there from age 92 to his death at age 95.

He was given a home by the government and was highly honored, mainly for his intellectual works which is said to appear in 1800 publications.

His home above, is where the museum is housed.

The street outside also bears his name 

The outside of his museleum 

His robes. He was the first black man to get his PHd at Harvard. He was 28.

Pictures of black female freedom fighters displayed on one wall. Among them is our National  Hero Nanny.

Our knowledgeable tour guide

Then it was back to the hotel where as usual many parties are hosted, mainly on the weekend.

Dining room staff singing happy birthday to a guest.

The ladies below are the ushers for a special shindig.

Making opportunities

National Hero Marcus Mosiah Garvey summarized our long-established practice when he said; “Take advantage of every opportunity; where there is none, make it for yourself.”

After slavery was abolished, our ancestors who had been forcibly uprooted from their country and families, found themselves without any opportunities.  For whereas those who had enslaved them for years received monetary compensation for losing free labor, most who had labored free, got nothing, no land, no money nothing to start their free life with.

Some chose to go back to work for the wicked slave masters just to get food to survive. Others fled to unpopulated areas in the hills to find a piece of land on which to eke out a living. The really courageous ones found whatever could use to sail away from the island to shores unknown.

I say really courageous as they never knew where they would end up or even arrive alive at any place, but to them, even death was better than going back to work for those monsters.

They therefore took the ultimate sacrifice to try and make opportunities for themselves.

We have no idea how many of the freed slaves who embarked on those dangerous treks arrived alive anywhere. We know a large number found their way to nearby Cuba which was getting wealthier every day as a sugar and rum manufacturing hub. Some of us can still find our relatives in provinces such as Santiago De Cuba, Holguin, and Guantanamo Bay.

Work on the construction of the Panama Canal in 1881 was a next big opportunity for poverty-stricken Jamaicans. Thousands died on that project. In fact, it was suspended for many years because of the high mortality rate. However, among those who survived, places like Nicaragua, Honduras, Costa Rica and even some countries in South America were where they later pursued opportunities.

The next big migration of Jamaicans came during the world wars, whether it was to fight for the former slave owing country or later, to provide cheap labor to rebuild their economy.

In short, marginalized Jamaicans have never been shy about seeking opportunities abroad where none existed at home. So, when countries such as Canada and the USA started to make migration easier, thousands trekked there too. Ever heard of the ‘farm work’ programs? Thousands never returned too!

Things took a different turn in the 1970’s though. For it was the threat of communism with all its ills, that caused mostly already-educated Jamaicans who never lacked opportunities at home as well as members of the affluent middle class to seek out countries where their safety and freedoms would not be in jeopardy.

That was when what is described as the real brain drain began.

And it has never ceased for as communication becomes better, individuals are finding that their skills and training can attract far bigger bucks in first world countries than they can earn at home.

Whatever the reasons, the fact is there are either about the same number of or even more Jamaicans living abroad as live on the island.

With a history like ours, it should surprise no one that the latest Fund for Peace data, shows Jamaica being second in the world in terms of migration. (See the table of the top 5 below.)

Countries	Human flight and brain drain, 2022	Global rank	Available data
Samoa	10	1	2007 - 2022
Jamaica	9.1	2	2007 - 2022
Palestine	8.8	3	2021 - 2022
Micronesia	8.7	4	2007 - 2022
Somalia	8.7	5	2007 - 2022

In most instances however, those Jamaicans who left their homeland for whatever reason, have never turned their backs on their country, for the record of their massive remittances sent to help those who were left behind, is living testimony of their love.

And, remittances have even on occasion topped tourism as our leading foreign exchange earner, especially after that horrible Covid virus struck.

Last year, the Business Observer carried an analysis entitled ‘Remittances — Jamaica's economic lynchpin.”

It said in part; even though the World Bank predicted global remittances would fall by 22 per cent, with the Latin America and Caribbean region expected to record a 19.3 percent drop, Jamaica has defied this fate as remittance inflows grew by 25 per cent to US $1.53 billion ($221.1 billion) and net remittances went up by 30 per cent to US $1.41 billion from April to September 2020.”

Although so many Jamaicans have made opportunities for themselves overseas, it has never been a risk-free enterprise.

Actually, it takes a great deal of courage to leave friends and families to pursue opportunities in countries unknown, at times even starting at rock bottom in places where neither the language or culture are familiar.

That is why so many in the diaspora took umbrage at the imbecilic pronouncement by the Deputy Mayor of Montego Bay, Richard Vernon.

I don’t know the level of education that Vernon has or even if he has any knowledge of our history, but by calling those who sought opportunities abroad cowards, he exposed a level of ignorance that is unacceptable for a so-called leader!

 

DON'T DILUTE OUR CULTURE!

I couldn’t agree more with the late great Marcus Garvey more, when he said, “A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots."

 One’s culture is the sum of the customs, arts, social institutions, and achievements and cannot be revised or changed willy nilly.

 A lot of our Jamaican culture has been solidified and expressed through Mento/folk music.

 Mento is Jamaica's first recorded music and it evolved from the musical traditions brought by enslaved West African people. The lyrics of mento songs often deal with aspects of everyday life in a light-hearted and humorous way. They were put to catchy tunes and sung by the slaves or those who did backbreaking labour in the fields during the brutal Colonial British colonial period, to make their chores feel less onerous.

 I am on this topic, as I noticed recently that some Facebook users are determined to dilute and change one aspect of our culture. That is, how land was obtained and farmed immediately after slavery was abolished. This they are trying to do by changing some words of a popular mento song "Sammy Dead."

 This song begins; “Sammy plant piece a corn dung a gully, an it bear till it kill poor Sammy.” However, modern-day the revisionists have been changing it to “Sammy plant peas an corn dung a gully…….”

 They almost had me convinced too, until I fact-checked it with an expert in the field of Jamaican culture. That is Colin Smith, a foundation member of Jamaica Folk Singers and currently leader of Tallawah Mento band.

 Smith, spent many years at the feet of the late, great social anthropologist, Dr. Olive Lewin, OD OM, studying Jamaica folk music and literature. She died in 2013.

 Wikipedia describes her thus; "Lewin was the author of several books and has made numerous recordings of folk music, performed by the Jamaican Folk Singers, which she founded. She was honoured by the Government of Jamaica, the United Nations, the Organization of American States, the Government of France and by academia for her outstanding lifelong contribution to the arts. In 2001 she was awarded the Jamaican Order of Distinction."

 Regarding whether Sammy planted piece a corn or peas and corn, Smith was emphatic. “It was piece a corn.”

He then went on to explain the conditions that prevailed when that song was written. In those days, freed slaves who wanted to farm, had no land of their own, so they had to rent/lease piece a land from their former slave/colonial masters. On this small holding, they would plant, piece a cane, piece a pumpkin, piece a cane, piece a yam, etc. (In some areas small yam holdings are known  as yam grung) Those who planted tree crops described their holdings as walk. Hence you have walk mango walk, orange walk etc.

On the other hand, large land barons planted fields or plantations, so their holdings were called cane plantations, banana plantations etc.

This other folk song called “Missa Potta” confirms the use of the word piece in reference to small farming Smith.:

 He sang;

“Good mawning Missa Potta ,good mawning to yu sah,

A plant a piece a red peas a Red Sally Lan

Mary Jane an Pidgen cum eat it aff sah

Cum out a mi yaad  mi  nebba call yu yah

Fa yu house rent money no dun pay fah.

Smith, a St. Elizabeth farmer in his own right, also explained that it is not unusual to plant peas and corn together as red peas has an excessive amount of valuable minerals mainly- magnesium, calcium, sodium, potassium and iron, hence the trash is used to fertilize the corn which matures later. Corn and gungo are also planted together, as St. Elizabeth has always suffered from chronic water shortage, so the trash from the corn which matures earlier, is used to mulch the gungo.

Anyway, if this was the aspect of farming that was being referred to in the song Sammy Dead, the lyrics would be; an dem bear till dem kill poor Sammy, for the plural of it is dem!

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Of Yoga, Blackness and the Maroons

I suppose I should have long recognised that many of the values held by my generation are passé as far as the younger generation is concerned. I am really speaking here to the issues of mental slavery, black pride, self confidence...all the things Marcus Garvey and other great black philosophers of yore, thought important.

I suppose its the new age sense of “couldn't care less” that allows most young black people to see nothing strange about their cohorts who bleach their skins.

Actually, I have found it quite significant recently when an immediate silence prevailed after a few people who claimed to have a problem with the issue, were shut up by Vybes Kartel. 

He did this by pointing out to them that people who straightened their hair to try to look white or bought wigs to disguise their roots, had no moral authority to criticise him! The silence that has prevailed since his rejoinder is deafening! 

Oh poor Jamaica. Poor black people, we so hate ourselves, are so immersed in mental slavery and so confused to boot.

You know all this reflection came out of an incident yesterday when I actually lost my temper to the point where I can’t even recall what I said! 

To most people, losing one's temper is a matter of course. In fact, for many years it was for me too until I started yoga some 40 years ago. In fact, I am here to tell you that if I have lost my temper twice in the last 30 years and for me, that is plenty.

But I totally lost it yesterday. 

This was at Cudjoe Mountain in St. Catherine.

Cudjoe had been a brave maroon leader and while most history I have seen about him places him in Portland and occasionally other northern parishes such as Trelawny, St. Mary and St. Ann, there is an area located just above Point hill in St. Catherine which bears his name.

At Cudjoe Mountain, there is a small cave called the Mountain River Cave, which had been used by the Tainos and which has a few drawings verifying their activities there. According to local lore, Cudjoe later used that cave as a hideout as he escaped from the British, hence the district is called after him.

A few of the persons we met there claimed to be Maroons and when you consider that the Maroons of history took money from the British to hunt down, trap and return newly arrived slaves from Africa who dared to escape from bondage, I suppose this could explain why mental slavery and a disdain for black people is alive and well in Cudjoe Mountain.

Well I really don’t know how widespread it is, but amazingly the stark experience I had with was with an influential resident there, the employee of the Jamaica National Heritage Trust who organises tours to the cave.

That is what led to my burst of temper.

At first, I thought she was making a joke as we set out to cross the river and someone made a comment about the size and slipperiness of the boulders that we had to walk on to get to the other side. Her comment was 'When I take white people here they don’t complain." I found the comment a bit out of sorts, but ignored it for Jamaica's history was replete with that type of attitude by menial workers in the tourism industry, but with training it became just that....history.

However, as we hiked further up the treacherous, rocky hillside, someone else complained about the steepness of the path. Again I heard her outburst “When I bring white people here they don’t complain.” Although I found it a bit annoying, I still said nothing for I have really matured and am less prone to be emotive.

However when we got to the top and discovered that the highly promoted cave was very small and the markings on the top were fairly insignificant and someone commented on this only to be rejoined by her third 'When I take white people here they don’t complain."

 That's when I totally lost it! 

I know I gave here a good cussing on top of my voice and walked off back down the hill to cool off in the river, but I really don’t recall what I actually said except I know I cursed her for rude, disrespectful and suffering from mental slavery. I might also have called her an asshole. I hope I did!

What amazed me however, is that no one else in the party who heard these comments seemed to have a problem with it. Or if they had a problem, they certainly kept it to themselves, hence my musings about the values of my generation being passé. 

People my age were nurtured in the 60's when black pride and the defense of our race was the ultimate purpose in life, so no one could insult our race in that way and get away with it for our motto then was 'Say it loud, I am black and I am proud." And being black and proud meant embracing all aspects of our blackness with pride. But now, bleaching, wigs etc have made such sentiments obsolete.

Time for you to get some cake soap Joan and chill out, compliments of Vybes Kartel et al.