WATTS 1965

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم



As-Salaamu-Alaikum Dearly Beloved Sisters and Brothers,

So, I used to be an avid reader of local Black newspapers. I even freelanced for one earlier in my career.

However, since becoming a Muslimah, my views toward the media have soured tremendously.

Nowadays, I just pick them up and scan them for events coming up in the community – The Calendar and whatnot.

In any case, Allah, Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever, and my Habibi <3 have me back living in Compton.

I was born here and fully feel the impact and the significance of my return home. I feel like I’ve come full circle and I can’t help but wonder why Allah Has Me Here.

I believe it’s because there are very many Black people who have not heard of the Messenger (PBUH), so this is where They Have me.

It’s also very nostalgic for me being here. I’ve only briefly taken a ride around the city and I couldn’t help but notice the dire straits the people who reside in this city live under. It is very depressing.

However, on the bright side, there are a lot of animals who live here. There are horses, roosters, dogs, cats, rats, &c. Most of the horses I’ve seen in L.A. come from Compton.

My roommate was worried about me because I walk the street like I own it. NO FEAR. I don’t even know the meaning of the word. Yesterday, this Sister threatened to kill me. I said, “You can try…

I don’t think Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises are Due Forever, Will Allow You to Succeed, Sister. HE WOULDN’T EVEN LET ME KILL MYSELF.

My teacher is The Most Honourable and Humble Elijah Muhammad (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Forever Be Upon Him). He Has Given Me a Thorough Knowledge of Self, God and the Devil. Once you have these, you have no fear, worry, nor grief. I don’t care where you live.

Allah (God) Has Power Over Everything. One day I had to leave with my bandana on my head. It’s my favorite color – RED. I went on down the street where I needed to go, but ALL of these cars kept turning around, slowing down to get a good look at me. No one wears red, or blue for that matter, bandanas. NO FEAR.

I WAS MAKING A STATEMENT.  http://homemakingfortheblackwoman.com/2015/04/11/banging-red-vs-blue/

My son and I lived in Watts (which is right next door to Compton) from February 2008 to June 2009, in a Transitional Housing Facility (Shelter). It was not nearly as  bad as I had expected and we were living eight families in one house and with ONE bathroom! Believe it or not – we never had to wait.

I guess everyone was just on the same frequency. It was a wonderful experience. I had always wanted to experience living in a communal type of living arrangement (think hippies) :/ ikr? But, I thoroughly enjoyed the shared chores and the closeness of living with my Sisters and their children.

Of course, they were all Christians, but I just stayed to myself, kept out of the drama and tried to be the BEST example of a Muslim follower of The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (PBUH) as I possibly could. It all worked out well and I’m grateful I had that experience.

Our Beloved Messenger (PBUH) taught us that “God Blesses The Child That’s Got His/Her Own.” So, even though I appreciate the experience, I wouldn’t want to do it again! ;)

When we lived out here, we frequented the same neighborhood businesses, the grocery store and the Library being two of them. The Sister at the grocery store had not even heard of my website and I realized that we’ve been gone for six years!

It feels like six months! :D

I went to the Library and saw the same librarian and this Brother who used to be there six years ago. I couldn’t believe he was still there. That was kind of depressing. Absolutely no progress.

Anyway, it seemed like the Library was YELLING AND SCREAMING AT ME, “IT’S BEEN FIFTY YEARS SINCE THE WATTS RIOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Well, I NEVER Pay attention when people or signs are so overtly blatant. So, I just scanned the fliers but didn’t bother reading them. What I saw couldn’t compare with my knowledge of the events that took place fifty years ago.

That’s probably why they want me.

Sisters and Brothers, befriend your elders and benefit from their knowledge and wisdom. Some of them…… :/

When you can find an older Brother or Sister who has time and is willing to share with you their life experiences, LISTEN TO THEM.

I have a degree in Journalism and I can tell you there is nothing like a first-person account of historical events.

It’s one thing to read about something, but when you can talk to someone who actually lived it – it makes it so much more personal and they usually go into more detail.

There is this homeless Sister who “haunts” the area around my old home on Avalon and 75th Street. I used to feed her some of my delicious Bean Soup and Pies and she used to feed me her wisdom.

She had grown up in the area, living there since the fifties. So, she would tell me of things she had seen and ways and customs that have long been forgotten by most.

One day, we were talking and she started telling me about the events that led up to the 1965 Watts Riots.

Now, first let me say that my Grandmother told me that back then, in 1965, the area now known as South Central was considered Watts as well. It wasn’t just the area around the Watts Towers and whatnot. She told me her home on 49th and Broadway was considered a part of Watts back then. So, the breadth and scope of the riots was much larger than most people realize, considering today’s perception of the area that comprises Watts.

So, I picked up this newspaper and I could tell the editor had been reading my blog. Most media outlets feed off of each other, so I’m not mad. Just a little offended and annoyed that they didn’t include MY solution to the gang problem (see above) nor a note about HOW TO EAT TO LIVE for their new “food” column. :/

Anyway, the whole damn thing is about the Watts Riots fiftieth anniversary, so I feel it’s my civic duty to tell you what my friend told me.

The police had been fucking with us (Black People) left and right, as is typical for them.

The incident that sparked the “riots” was the third time someone had gotten killed by the devil po-pos in a matter of weeks. So everybody was already on edge.

Earlier that evening, my neighbor told me, she had seen the Brother driving down Avalon, just like everybody else had. He was honking his horn as he drove, waving at everybody, “I’m about to be a FATHER!!!!!!!!!”

Everybody waved back and congratulated him, thrilled and cheering him on for his good fortune.

Before he got to the hospital, members of L.A.’s finest, the Los Angeles Police Department, pulled him over for Reckless Driving and killed him.

THAT’S what started the 1965 Watts Riots!



Do you think they cared that he was on his way to the hospital?

I’m sorry for you if you do! Because you are headed to be their next victim. They probably would’ve have liked to kill his baby too.

“Every time I plant a seed, he say, “Kill them before they grow!!!” – Bob Marley


بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم



I have turned down at least three millionaires. A “Golddigger” would not have.

The first thing on my list of prerequisites for a husband is RIGHTEOUSNESS. THEN the capability to SUPPORT A FAMILY. That’s all.

You don’t have to be rich and if you are let’s sign a prenup! It’s not about the Benjamins.

Food, Clothes & Shelter are all we need and even that’s secondary.

If YOU are not RIGHT none of that matters.

You have to make me smile.

Put me at ease and I CAN’T be at ease if everything is not right with you, Brotherman.

Put me at ease; and then, you can feed, clothe and shelter me.

If I’m not comfortable around you; you can keep it ALL.

I have to be content. Peace Of Mind is PARAMOUNT.

Now, I’m just saying, in general, of course you know, I’m married already. (Hey, Habibi :D <3 <3 <3 ) I’m just saying, for you Good Brothers out there who want a woman like me (the women who read my blog), we’ve raised our standards. So, that means you’ve got to step up to meet them. That is, if you want one of us.

AND YOU KNOW YOU DO. ;) YOU CREATED US FOR YOURSELF!!! Don’t give up on us because we may not be there nor because we may have standards you think you cannot reach. The CREATION can NEVER be better than the CREATOR. So, we can’t be better than you are. YOU CREATED US!!!!!! 

Black Sisters and Brothers, Remember that. The Blackman is the Leader of Our Nation. So, Black Brother, don’t be intimidated by a woman who has Knowledge of Self, even if she may have a little more than you have. When you meet one, PRAY AND ASK ALLAH IF SHE IS THE WOMAN FOR YOU. We were CREATED for you, so you know there’s one of us out here waiting to carry your name. But don’t let it be a slave name. (Search “A Good Name Is Better Than Gold”)

If you choose other than one of us, you are lowering your standards and not fulfilling your responsibility to YOURSELF AND TO OUR NATION. The same goes for you Sisters.


Everybody else was MADE from us. WE ARE THE ONLY CREATED PEOPLE ON EARTH. They can trace their beginning back to us. And there will be an end to them. There is no beginning nor end for the Black Nation. Which is why we are not a “race.”

They are racing. We are not. We will be here Forever. They will not. Which is why they are considered a race. They are “racing” to do as much damage as they can before the end of their time. And it is here. If you marry one of them, Black Sister or Brother, you will go with them to their doom.

We are living in The Time of The Great Day of Separation. EVERY WOMAN OR MAN MUST GO TO HIS OR HER OWN.



NOONE ELSE is going to LOVE you like we do. They (the races) all want you, just like they all want us. but BLACK IS THE BEST. WE WERE CREATED FOR EACH OTHER.


The races were MADE from the CREATED BLACK NATION.

Take the horse and the donkey.
The mule is not as good as either.

Take the lemon and the orange.
The grapefruit is neither as good.


OUR BLACK NATION is Resurrecting Back into the Knowledge of Self, and once you know yourself, who you are, you KNOW that you are THE BEST and you will NEVER SETTLE for anything less than the VERY BEST – Your Own Kind. If you do, then you don’t really KNOW YOURSELF.




بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

I think folks from Cuba who migrate to the U.S. are particularly ruthless due to growing up with American sanctions.

I absolutely adore both Castros for nationalizing business, offering FREE housing, FREE food and a FREE college education to all citizens and opposing American imperialism.

Even today, people from ANYWHERE ON EARTH, can travel to CUBA and earn a DOCTORATE DEGREE for FREE!!!! FREE!!!! FREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But the people who LEAVE CUBA in favor of American commercialism are just like people from anywhere else who leave their country, hungry for the devil’s money – TRAITORS (sorry Brother Adel​, I’m exceedingly grateful to you for sharing the gift of the Arabic Language, and I know there are always exceptions).

Ricky Ricardo abandoned his own woman in favor of the ugly American devil woman and those devils have been running that show for over fifty years – longer than any other show in television history!

I used to work with a guy from Cuba and always admired his style. But he wasn’t right.

That woman on Fifty’s show is the reason why I stopped watching.

I SHOULD HAVE stopped when I saw it is a porno. But I like Fif and the star reminds me of my Habibi and his club was called “The Truth” and you know how much I love the TRUTH!

I could handle the violence, the slanging, even the pornography, but that interracial mess, is causing the destruction of our families more than anything else and I’m SICK of it!!!

It is the LAST trick of the devil to try and take our people to Hell.

Fif had the OPPORTUNITY to do some good with his T.V. show. Instead he BIT off another man’s life (whom I met, poor Brother) and broadcast all the filth he possibly could on television, probably worldwide. SMH

I know you had a hard life, Fif, but you don’t have to promote that lifestyle, Akhi. Someone once told me that you can’t be an Angel living in Hell. I disagree; being an Angel living in Hell makes you all the more deserving of Heaven!

Find your Angel, Akh!



بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

(*Ha! You thought I was going to post Mary Wells, huh? ;)  )

I met my Soulmate, Amad-Jamal Washington, in September of 19 and 79. I was eight (8) years old and he was nine (9) years old.

This was the same month the first commercial rap record, “Rapper’s Delight” was released. I loved it instantly. I used to tell my big cousins, “Play the record with the rainbow on it again!” 

I didn’t know it then, but I fell in love with both, Hip-Hop and my Honey at the same time.

The first time I saw my Honey was on the playground before school started. It was a new school for me and my Sister and I had just noticed him when someone blew a whistle and all the children “froze”. So I froze too. I thought that was so fun. :P We didn’t do anything like that at West Angeles Christian Academy.

Imagine my surprise when we got in the classroom, and he passed me one of those “I like you…” notes. I didn’t even realize he was the Brother who sent me that note until last year. But I must’ve said “Yes” because we were inseparable after that.

We would be in chapel, standing in a circle and, of course we were by each other and he could rub his feet on the carpet and shock the hell out of me. I used to get soooo frustrated because I couldn’t do it! But there’s been electricity between us ever since.

So, our school went on a camping trip to Blue Jay up in the mountains. I was surprised my mom let us go.

As usual, we were inseparable.

Since being in therapy, I’ve learned the terminology for some of my behavior – “Isolate”. I love to isolate. They act like you’re not supposed to. But they are a part of the devil’s world. Allah (God) Told Me To “Come, out of her!” (Revelation 18:4) So, the devils call it isolating and make it seem like there’s something wrong when you follow Divine Instruction.

So, me and my Honey have always isolated ourselves from when we first met.

So, he found a spot for us and we’re hip-hop, so I’m almost positive it was behind the stairs (I know it wasn’t on the roof ;) and everybody was looking for us.

I’m sure it was I who moved (I’ve since learned, very well, Honey, how not to be found when I isolate) and one of our female classmates heard. They fell on us like a pack of hungry wolves – Ripped US FROM EACH OTHER’S ARMS and we were never the same.

I cry every time I think about it. I almost made it this time. So, I guess I’m getting over it. Especially since now I know he still loves me.

* * * * *

Here’s Mary Wells for you, and if you notice, her backup singers are The Temptations. There were only four.


Here’s an example of my being torn sometimes. I love to sing. But I love Allah and Islam (My Hubby/Black People) more. This is an example of the tearing.

I went to buy a sewing machine. Most seamstresses know the two most famous brands are “BROTHER” and “SINGER”.

I BOUGHT A “BROTHER”. I feel like music can be a distraction. If you notice, Our Beloved Messenger, The Most Honorable Elijah Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) did not have choirs at The Temple. 

At the Salaam Restaurant, there would be Jazz musicians though, so I haven’t completely given up on music, but it has to be with my Honey (“Brother“) ;)



بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم


As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Sisters & Brothers

So, I was reading the “Resurrection” – Tupac book. I used to have the video but, as is always the case, the book is much better than the movie.

He said, he had 3 minutes of peace right after he was born. Then he said, “After that, it was on.

Of course, he grew up poor with a highly conscious and politically active mother who instilled the same love for Black People that she possessed, in her children.

When he became a teen, he started performing, as a back-up dancer, with Digital Underground (whom I still can’t stand :/ btw) and who never had a hit (platinum) record until they granted 2pac his classic “16 bars.”

So, he’s enjoying a modicum of success that came as a direct result of his AFROCENTRIC “Rebel-utionary” persona, until some devil police officers in Oakland, California, chose to make him their “nigger-to-fuck-with-for-the-moment.”

Pac had jaywalked across the street, on his way to the bank, when the devil pigs stopped and demanded his I.D.

Now, people like Tupac will never be afraid of the police like most people, especially when they possess money. They figure, “The worst they can do is give me a ticket. I’ll pay it and go on doing whatever I want to. Fuck the police!”

But this is America. And, devils already have a superiority complex, so when they confront this particularly self-conscious (and I mean self-conscious in a good way. Think “KNOWLEDGE OF SELFCONSCIOUS) type of Black person, they take it personally. They feel like it’s their patriotic duty as a good Christian American to put the above-mentioned Nigger back in his or her (but especially his) place.

So, after they had satisfied their innate tendency to make mockery of Tupac Amaru Shakur’s name, Pac said something like, “Shit, I’m in Digital Underground, Can I please have my ticket so I can go about my business?”

Pac’s complete lack of obseqiousness nearly drove the pigs to their wits’ end. They responded by restraining him and choking him to the point of unconsciousness, but not before they had him on the ground and beat his head to a pulp against the pavement.

He regained his consciousness by way of big black police boots kicking him in the stomach and the voices of devil police officers demanding that he get up.

Later, he would go on to reflect that he had “never had a record until he made a record…”

* * * * *

The biggest threat to America is an educated, wide-awake, successful Blackman, who can still relate to and socialize with the masses of his own people who are still in the mud. 2pac had platinum records but still could cameo at a party in the hood.

The first time I saw him was at a pool party in LaDera Heights (a very affluent Black neighborhood in L.A.).

Forsooth, I never really paid too much attention to Pac until he died and I saw how distraught everybody was.

I mean, I did shed one tear when I heard the news, but it was more out of symbolism and respect than sincere emotion.

Anyway, his bitch-ass was sitting in the driver seat of a VW bug (it was either yellow or baby-blue or some other gay-ass color) but it was packed with his homies.

So, I spotted him, me – also in the driver seat of my car (I think it was my Cadillac) and equally packed with my homies.

So, I rolled up and asked him if he was at the party we were leaving.

He just stared at me as if I hadn’t even spoken.

I was dumbstruck. NOBODY treats me like that. I mean, nobody had before or since. I was LIVID! (Hence, the reason for my colloquialism at the beginning of this story. ;) Love you, Pac!)

But what could I do, but try and regain some of my dignity and peel-out.


I still can’t believe it. I can understand though because I just did the same thing about an hour ago. I do it all the time. Pac is only three (3) days older than I am, so of course we are a lot alike.

Sometimes, I just don’t feel like being bothered. “Can ya feel me?”  ;)

So, here’s this extremely intelligent Brother with his finger on the heart of the Black community, wide-awake to the insufferable conditions we were put in by our heartless slavemasters, and he’s brilliantly, articulately, entertaining and educating, shining a light on their murderous deeds for the whole world to bear witness, much to the chagrin of our slavemasters.

Now, as I previously wrote, Pac was raised by the caliber of Blackwoman, whom I only know two other Blackmen to be so privileged – Sobukwe Pambeli and Hakim Rahman Allah. You can tell, by just their names, Tupac included, that these are not your average, ordinary, everyday so-called Negroes. So, Pac was definitely a rare breed, but more importantly, he could not help but grow up with an intense love, respect, honor and admiration for Blackwomen.

He understood our duality, having been raised in an environment inhabited by pimps and prostitutes and their virulency. But, he balanced it with his firsthand experience with a mother’s love and the close bond with his Sister.

People often did and still do misinterpret his enigmatic relationship with women because of the seemingly contradictory nature of his songs, i.e. “Keep Ya Head Up” on the same record with “I Get Around”.

But most people who have analyzed Blackwomen understand that this is the situation that was forced upon us by our shared history of slavery in America.

The Blackwoman was not afforded the luxury of innocence. She was not afforded the luxury of a husband, she could call her own. The man who should have been hers, was not even his own. He was the property of the devil caucasian christian slavemaster, who could and would come in her (their) house and rape her whenever he wanted.

This is still going on and has been going on for centuries here in the so-called Christian country of the United States of America.

It is very easy to understand why the american Blackwoman, who was reared by these devils, has so little shame when it comes to her body.


So, clearly realizing Pac’s potential, the government of white Christian America set out to silence him. And what better tool than the Blackwoman?

We all know the result, but personally, after studying him as well as working for a woman who not only produced his videos, but was very good friends with him, I know our poor Brother was set up.

He loved Blackwomen too much to take something so precious from one of us. He understood us and he wouldn’t rape anybody.

Furthermore, the Sister gave him a massage!!!

She knew he would go to sleep. Then he wakes up and she’s crying Rape?!?!

Have you ever heard anybody cry rape?

Please leave a comment and correct me if I’m wrong, but I know three women who have been raped (date raped) and you just don’t do it. It’s embarrassing. None of them even pressed charges.

This Sister was a paid agent of the F.B.I. (think COINTELPRO), who was out to silence the most prolific, influential and outspoken man in America, probably the world.

They succeeded (for a time). Pac said he couldn’t go to parties anymore, didn’t trust anybody, was paranoid and contemplated suicide.

But “Balls of Fire” like 2pac, just don’t extinguish like most people’s.

He began to realize his Power and Authority that he held sway over the Black Nation and devised the best formula he could.

Unfortunately, what he didn’t realize is that our problem required a DIVINE SOLUTION.

No mere mortal can formulate a plan that will be successful in PERMANENTLY solving the ONE problem (the Devil Caucasians) of the so-called American Negroes.

Ask Noble Drew Ali. Ask Marcus Garvey. Ask Martin Luther King. Ask Malcolm X. Ask Huey Newton. As Jesse Jackson. Ask Barack Obama. Ask Farrakhan.

NONE of these men were nor will they EVER be successful without Divine Help from Allah (God), Our Saviour and Redeemer, in the Divine Person of Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever.


بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Asiatic Black Sisters & Brothers ;)

A few years ago my son and I were lucky enough to be a part of an expedition that traveled from Los Angeles to the remains of the historic all-Black California city of ALLENSWORTH.

You may be familiar with the John Singleton movie about the all-Black township, “Rosewood,” or about the all-Black town, Greenwood, Oklahoma aka “Black Wall Street”. Well, there were several ALL-BLACK towns, at one time, all across America! The first one to be incorporated that was also immortalized in Zora Neale Hurston’s novel which was made into an HBO movie, starring none other than Miss Halle Berry – Their Eyes Were Watching God – was the town of Eatonville, Florida. It is also the only one I know of that is still in existence today.

All the others met the same fate – destroyed overtly or covertly by the American devil slavemasters and their children, who cannot stand to see their once-slaves living independently.

The founder of  Allensworth, Allen Allensworth was killed in a suspicious motorcycle accident while out soliciting more residents for his burgeoning metropolis, which was followed by construction of a railway through the town which brought about its ultimate demise.

For more information on Allensworth,, click here.