I’ve had a lifelong fascination with black history. One of the greatest gifts my parents gave me, especially my mother, is my name. I LOVE both my names-first and middle. They were always unique in classrooms. Knowing my names had meaning and cultural identity was always a source of pride and led to a thirst for learning history- world history; but black history in particular.
Can't remember a specific time when I became conscious of the African Diaspora- that the Atlantic-slave Trade forcefully scattered black people around the Americas. My mom had a habit of explaining everything, even when listening to her music. Like, what Osibisa mussy really
mean when they sing their version of "There's an Awful Lot of Coffee in Brazil". And growing up, many of my circle of family and friends were immersed
in African culture: in dress, by name, in conversations, in art, in music, in life. My Uncle Brian designed African dresses, tie-dyed and batik. And all around me were
people with names like Kojo and Shaka and Olatunji and Omowale. So, black history wasn't just a twenty-eight-day, February thing; Black history was 356 days, February to February, July to July.
More views on Black History
Oh lahd, Man... ah know meh late! But anyhow, I wishing everybody, ever one and one, the best for this New Year. Please, remember to live in the moment, as my Auntie Cee keep reminding me. Doan care how much struggling and strife, find something around you love or like and enjoy that moment with them.
And one more thing... as my good bredren Briggy would seh: "Doan bother trade dog fuh donkey."
Love you bad, me Fam.
Auntie Ena celebrated her 90th Earthday two Saturdays ago (the 27th of October) and scores of family and close friends rolled in from far and wide, which is a testimony to the love and admiration we all have for her. I counted four generations; people driving and flying in to Atlanta from New York and Florida, people from Africa, Jamaica and Barbados and Trinidad and Guyana. When it comes to loyalty, people came and showed love to Auntie Ena, royalty.
My Grannie had three sisters and Auntie Ena is the youngest. She’s lived in and travelled to many parts of the world. She was a hot dresser; even these days she’s a picture of elegance. You want hear my elders talk them old, long-time stories- some of the best stories I’ve ever heard. They’ve lived exciting lives, rich with fascinating history and culture. I try my best to pay attention to these stories they’re often so anxious to share because sooner or later we all join our ancestors. So, I make sure to chat and gaff with them right here, right now.
Auntie Ena, Lady, you amaze me.
Breadfruit - The Best of Foods
When my cousin-in-law heard how breadfruit was a part of we diet in the West Indies, he remarked, "Man, you guys grew up eating the best foods." He was right about breadfruit, too, though when I was small I didn't really know how many health benefits were packed into the fruit, or vegetable (which one is it?) - all I did know is I love it fried. Then a couple years back, I opened a USA Today and, boops, an article bigging up breadfruit fall right into my lap.
Breadfruit is high in complex carbohydrates and a good source of antioxidants, calcium, carotenoids, copper, dietary fiber, energy, iron, magnesium, niacin, omega 3, omega 6, phosphorus, potassium, protein, thiamine, vitamin A and it big, big, big in vitamin C.
The Omega 3 and 6 oils in breadfruit great for the heart; the antioxidants can help reduce inflammation; the breadfruit skin is great for your own skin, helping to fight excessive inflammation, psoriasis, eczema, while encouraging new cell growth. In addition to all them thing, breadfruit is great at controlling diabetes and warding off cancer-causing chemicals from the body.
So, I am looking forward to cooking garlic breadfruit and breadfruit pepper pot this Kwanzaa season, since I Man don't celebrate Christmas. I gon mek yuh know how it turn out.
~ K. Omodele
Last week I rode with Preacher to a few bookstores in and around Atlanta. It took about four hours because, if you don't know, Atlanta is spread out big an' brawlin', like a market woman talking people business. Most of these independent bookstores were very receptive to an independent author/ publisher pushing his book and told me to submit Cries of Redemption for review. So I left one at Black Dot Cultural Center & Bookstore, Medu Books, and Nubian Bookstore which actually is now carrying my book. The Shrine of The Black Madonna told me to submit May the 1st and Books Boutique said submit for June.
Now let me tell you, Marcus, the owner of Nubian Bookstore in Morrow, Georgia, flipped through my pages and in about fifteen minutes the brother had me signing a receipt and invoice.
So if you in Morrow by the mall, stop in and support. You'll find all kind of Black History, Black College, Fraternity and Sorority Tees; an assortment of adult and childrens' books.
Greetings, my people, my family, my Tribe, as Uncle Lawrence (Stuartie) woulda seh. By the way, I know he's looking at this whole publishing movement I got going on and laughing to himself.
"I tell yuh! Omodele, yuh come from good people, yuh only playing schupid!"
This first post is for all the Elders who have transcended, not out of our lives, but into the innermost depths of our hearts, the inter most parts of our memories, and the most intimate part of our story.
Auntie Carmen, Auntie Lorna, Auntie Hazel, Uncle Brian, Auntie Pansy and Auntie Berle; Grand Dad (both of you); Kirkie and Ivor; Uncle Herman and Auntie Baby; Granny (the one I never met in person and the one that held me like I was the only person in the world); And I done already mention Stuartie. All trodding on in we heart and soul.
Never Gone! Never Forgotten!