Category: A.J.

SisterCaptain’s Vlog ٢

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

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MESSAGE TO THE BLACKMAN

Monday, February 13, 2017

6:31 p.m.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

2:00 p.m.

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!! ❤ ❤ ❤

Now, you know I’m in the Nation and we don’t celebrate nothing but Saviour’s Day.

Valentine’s Day just reminds me that Saviour’s Day is coming!!!!!

Yaaaaay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀

Everyday should be like Valentine’s Day when you’re really in love anyway.

Like ME & ZAWJI

He gives me roses and chocolate every day of the year and don’t say nothing about nobody named St. Valentine!

He gives me those things because he loves me

AND

I LOVE HIM

Because he shows me how much he loves me

BY

Giving me things I love.

Complete your cipher.

Valentine’s Day is not about roses and chocolate.

It’s about appreciating (or should be) the person who loves you.

BUT

The problem with the devil and his days is that he designates one day a year to celebrate important things.

And belittles the importance by commercializing on them.

I think if you have to set aside a day to show someone how much you appreciate them it shows you might not really appreciate them.

Let me give you an example.

I used to be married and when our anniversary came, I didn’t remember.

I felt stupid when my husband came talking about “Happy Anniversary.”

I felt bad because I didn’t remember. I thought maybe I didn’t love him like I should. I guess I really didn’t seeing as how we’re not married anymore.

But not only that, I felt stupid celebrating and I didn’t know anything about the nation yet. Well, not much.

For me, anniversaries are unimportant because I planned to be married for the rest of my life so what difference does it make that we made it a year?

I mean, why celebrate?

We should celebrate our love (marriage) EVERY DAY and grow deeper in love EVERY DAY if we’re really meant to be together.

We weren’t.

This society puts emphasis on the wrong things.

Who cares what day you got married on?

As long as you marry your one true love.

EVERY DAY you’re together should be celebrated.

Just on the strength of appreciating that you were lucky enough to find each other

Knowing that there are many people who are still looking.

I mean, at least celebrate a week!

Love is important.

Valentine’s Week SMH

Should be all year.

EVERY DAY OF THE YEAR

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

So, this year has been kinda weird.

A couple days ago I was feeling very emotional.

I had just “broken up” with those two Muslims and was lonely as hell.

I went to see Pops and sat on his lap and just cried cried cried.

He told me something like I have a responsibility to music.

I dig that.

But, I’m not singing or playing music publicly until the devil is destroyed.

I thought maybe just for Black people but somebody might record it and the devil might get ahold to it.

So cheah

Anyway, the next night, I went back to see Pops and there was this Brother there.

He came and really started talking to me.

His voice!

He reminds me of this Brother but better because he doesn’t have to turn it on, it’s just naturally like that AND he has a NEW ORLEANS ACCENT!!!

SO

He makes jewelry and sells it which is really admirable to ya gurl.

I was thinking this morning while I was sitting across the street from a Black-owned car wash that I admire this Brother more than Bebe (the owner of the car wash) because although Bebe probably makes a lot of money, he is still a servant.

Brother T

IS A PRODUCER!!!

It takes more ingenuity to develop a product (design, manufacture, produce, market) and sell it than to just serve people.

Anybody can wash a car.

Not everybody has the power to create something from nothing.

SO

We kicked it that first night (Sunday)

Early in the morning, he told me his mother was going to call and he was going over her house and told me he wanted to introduce me to her.

I didn’t go.

He knows all about Zawji, of course.

I even told him that Zawji sent him to me so I wouldn’t be alone.

It didn’t dawn on me that it was Valentine’s Day until yesterday.

He was at his mom’s all day and then last night when he went to the Quarter to sell his wares, I went to sleep and when I woke up this morning, he had gone to Ma Dukes’ again.

Let me G why Dilla called his Mom “Ma Dukes” BRB

“How did you come to be called Ma Dukes? My son, Dilla, and his friends just started calling me that and I never asked why.”

You know hip-hop people… ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Click Here to see where I got that quote.

So,

He had left me a note.

I already knew though.

I am probably the only woman in the world who would admire someone like him over Bebe, but across the street is a store that sells stripper paraphernelia and next door is a restaurant and written in the cement is the name of the owner of the restaurant and Bebe’s name together. They are a couple.

I’m afraid Bebe is a low-key pimp, using the Car Wash as a front. :/

No talent.

Leeches.

I realized that those two Muslim Brothers are just like other homeless Brothers I have met. I wrote about two Brothers I met in Atlanta.

They are always two Brothers. One is significantly older (maybe fifteen years) older than the other one, has a habit (cigarettes, coke, liquor or whatever) and uses the younger brother (phone, energy, contacts, ideas, creativity usually) and the younger brother misguidedly looks up to the older Brother. But when the younger brother starts to come up, the older brother holds him back. It’s sad. He feels obligated to the older Brother and doesn’t want to leave him, but the older brother is holding him back and knows if the younger brother leaves him, his life is basically over unless he can find another source to leech off of.

That’s why Tip said the music industry (rule #4080 ) and I think life in general, is made up of so many shady people. They find someone with talent (artist) and leech off of them.

That’s why I fly solo dolo because I know it’s harder for a lady. We are naturally dependent. I’ve got Allah and Zawji (who are both unseen on me) but talk to me five minutes. 😉

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

T is a great guy but I’m too old to be with a Brother who is still dependent on his mother. I did that in High School. I’ve been out of school thirty years and if you are introducing me to your mother at her house something is wrong.

Invite us both to dinner. I would prefer it to be at your house more than a restaurant because your house will be our house and gives me a firmer foundation for future dinners. If you’re really serious anyway.

Some mothers don’t want to pass the baton to their son’s wife.

They want him to remain dependent on her forever.

Some fathers are the same way with their daughters.

I think it’s like that when they are not satisfied with their mate.

So they look for love from their children.

It’s sickening.

They can’t let go and let their children find their fulfillment in their mate.

Your spouse should be your everything.

That’s why I call him my ZAWJI.

He is my father now.

I don’t need to ask my daddy for anything monetarily anymore.

Zawji got it covered. I’m dependent on him financially.

He is my BEST FRIEND.

I don’t need any girlfriends.

Zawji got it covered. I’m dependent on him for everything including advice about girl stuff.

The Honourable Elijah Muhammad (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Forever Be Upon Him) is a MAN, but he made ladies out of former prostitutes. And if you think about it, it makes sense. Who can teach a lady how she should act better than a man? He knows what men like. And The Messenger (Peace Be Upon Him) was chosen by Allah, to be HIS MESSENGER. So He Knows How To Make Women of Allah. That’s what I want to be.

Zawji is my Brother.

I don’t need anybody else to protect me.

Zawji got it covered.

He is my son.

I get to mother him and do all the things he would go to his mother for.

I got it covered.

Maybe not because he’s not with me yet.

In Sha Allah, soon. 😀

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Oh, and He is my husband.

So we get to do all the things I can’t and don’t want to do with the other men in my life. 🙂

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Everybody on Facebook is talking about that movie.

The Funny thing about the Johnsons or something.

Maybe Strange things.

I don’t know.

But that movie is really sick.

I saw part of it and it really messed me up.

Having been a victim of incest, it made me really feel like something was wrong.

With me!

The victim!

I turned it off but somebody on FB said it gets worse. Much worse.

No, I didn’t turn it off right then.

I saw one more scene that made me turn it off.

I think America is the no I KNOW America is the most wickedest place that has ever been on our planet.

I wanted to be a Nun growing up.

I think because there is solace in being in solitude.

I could totally live in a cave if it had central heating and a bathroom.

I don’t even need a kitchen. A hot plate every now and then would be nice but I could live without it in exchange for not having to be around any people.

Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) of fourteen hundred years ago used to go up into the cave to get away from it all. And that is where he received the first revelation of the Holy Qur’an.

The Messenger (Peace Be Upon Him) taught us that Allah revealed the Holy Qur’an to him.

Most people think He (Allah) used an Angel (Jibril/Gabriel).

But the point is he was alone and away from everybody and everything.

This world makes you think something is wrong with you if you do that.

They even have a medical/psychological diagnosis for it – isolating.

And they FORCE you to go to group.

#trialsofapsychpatient

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Anyway

He gave me a bracelet.

I let him put it on me.

He tried to cuff me.

I let him

for one day.

He told me Don’t Talk To Anybody Else.

I even did it.

For one day.

I took it off.

And it was almost physically painful.

Bracelets are just as important as a ring almost.

It’s symbolic of cuffing you.

I haven’t figured out the ring yet.

Oh yeah, someone said it’s because the ring finger is connected to the heart or something.

Let me G it. BRB

Yeah, that’s why

Here is a playlist I made for Valentine’s Day. :/

https://tidal.com/playlist/53c3f819-e2ad-43e7-9d70-220d348b744a

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

4:00 pm

Email to Zawji

Bismillah

I’m almost in The New. I’m in Baton Rouge and my bus doesn’t leave until five something. It’s only one thirty now.
Every time I come here I think about Faith. She doesn’t have any children as far as I know. I mean why wouldn’t she put it on Facebook if she does. I guess it’s not too late. I can still have more, In sha Allah. Maybe she can too. She’s a career woman. I thought I was too. I never pictured myself a homemaker in a million years. I wanted to be a news anchor. And a talk show host. Those type of women don’t have successful families – like Oprah. They try to do it all but can’t. Trying to be “Superwoman.” But that’s not superwoman. Superwoman saves people from harm. They are trying to do it all. It’s so stupid. But that is how the devil has made us. I almost cry thinking about my poor Sisters. They work all day and then come home and try to do the housework they should have been doing all day. It’s crazy. They spend their whole lives like that. Even older Sisters (an older Sister) told me that’s the way it’s supposed to be. We are women too. White women with class don’t live like that. It’s the lower class who think they are supposed to be “equal” with men. Refined women know we are supposed to rear our husband’s children and take care of him and the home he provides for us. These feminists think there’s something wrong with that. They want to be men. They want to do the things men are supposed to do. Like work outside of the home with strange men. I don’t. I’m perfectly happy being a woman and doing the things I was created to do in the home. Baking cookies is fulfilling. Sewing draperies is fulfilling. Wiping noses and making therapeutic tea is fulfilling.
I hate seeing little Black babies with runny noses. They’re not eating right. Too much mucous and it’s coming out. I NEVER remember Hakim having a runny nose. Not even once. He got sick once but he told me he needed some fruit, so I got it and he felt better instantly.
I got to go to the grocery store in Houston. It was on it’s last leg so I helped kill it.
I can’t believe I’m in this Greyhound station for another three hours and nobody’s here but some dirty devil men.
I think I’m gonna take a nap.
I love you I love you I love You I love You I Love You I Love You I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you okay, I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.
I can’t remember the last time I told you. Please don’t ever think I’m going to stop loving you. I’m not. I will love you until I take my last breath. I thought about saying until my heart stops beating but they have machines to keep your heart beating. I think when you can’t breathe anymore that’s it. So until I am no longer able to breathe in the atom of life, I will love you, Amad-Jamal Allah.
I can’t bring myself to attach the slave name to you. I was just reading the Messenger’s teaching on him. He called him an outcast or something bad like that. And he said all the other outcasts boosted his authority and then he made you his slave. SMH. Well the Messenger (PBUH) didn’t say the part about making you his slave but he did.
I HATED how proud you sounded when you told the police your name. Maybe you were happy because you thought they were going to take care of me in your stead. Idk I don’t even wanna think about it. I just can’t wait to see you again. Soon come, In sha Allah.
~ LOVE ALLAH ❤️

Feeling Good

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Sweet Soan Papdi,
How are you, MY SWEET LOVE? I miss you, but I have your picture to keep me company and sometimes it’s like you’re right here with me, My Baby. I love you so much. Always have. Just….. didn’t have the confidence to think you wanted me. You were this big star, traveling and I didn’t believe you would want little old me. People change sometimes when they get famous. Like Fatima. I should have know you are too real to get big-headed.
I’m still here and always will be. I was willing to let another man care for me in your stead but I don’t think it’s worth it. The temptation to have sex is too great for me because I would have to feel some type of connection to even consider moving in but maybe if he set me up in an apartment without any strings I could get with that.
The last time I had my own place, I was bored out of my mind. Because Hakim had just left. Now that I’ve been on my own for two years, I know I’m ready. I’ve tried living with others and the stress is too great. Maybe if I could find, nah, I could not live with even another M.G.T. in peace. I would have to be dominant. But I know from over ten years of experience, SOMETHING would go down. I don’t have any faith in people anymore. Only you and Allah (swt).
My life is so crazy. I’m going to write a blog about where I am now. I’ve moved up a little, so I think I should update my memoirs, if nothing else.
I’ve got it pretty good right now. They’re letting me chill out at the masjid, which is hella cool because I can take a shower and charge my laptop and use the Internet and find some peace in this crazy world. I go to the 24-hour wash house in the mornings but the devils there are annoying. There is wifi and it’s comfortable though. I also get to meet a lot of Brothers and Sisters and do Dawah.
Why is the muezzin up here? He’s making me want to leave, and he knows it, but I’m not going nowhere. This is Baitullah and I’m welcome. He will have to answer to Allah if his intentions are less than honourable.
The Brother who told me he was going to call the police on me just left. He just asked if the Imam knew I was up here. I told him I didn’t even know he was here. Then he asked me again, which kind of confused me because how could I know if he knew or not if I didn’t tell him? But I just told him I saw him yesterday and everything was cool.
He and another Brother were discussing an A/V hookup and I was listening being nosy and do you know I gave them the most important suggestion of the whole session – where to place the camera. They were going to hang it from the middle of the ceiling. I asked them, very humbly, because you know I’m just a girl and these were two Blackmen – GODS! But I finally got up to courage to offer my suggestion. I asked them, “Why don’t you put it on the wall?” At first the A/V guy was like, “Then you’re gonna get the whole room” and I was thinking, “Zoom in” Then he says, “Or you could just zoom in.” (smile) Jedi mind powers in action.
The Brother who told me he was going to call the police on me agreed and said it would make your job more easier. I didn’t even think about that. I’ve never mounted a camera before except on a tripod. But it was true. I feel so good about that because he was trying to keep me out of here then I gave them a solution that was better than any that the TWO of them came up with!
The Queen. Your Queen. I just want you to be pleased and smile that smile that is reserved especially for me to me. You and Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Be Praised Forever, are my reasons for living.
I’m so glad it’s finally Monday! I can go practice the piano. I’m gonna go at five, In Sha Allah. They close at nine but last time I think I got there at 4:30 and that still wasn’t enough time. The devil security guard made sure I knew he was listening. Devil. He knows I don’t want any devils hearing me play and I’ve been practicing singing too. But I don’t know. I even went to the Jazz health place on Saturday because I couldn’t wait until today to practice but it was full of devils.
I found another place to get baba ganoush. There is this Sister who works there who looks like she could be your biological Sister, so you know I like her. She grew up in the Nation too but I think she’s gay. These women outchere. SMH I think it’s the food because they look like men – like physically, with men’s characteristics but you can still tell they’re girls. It’s ugly. I tell them not to cut their hair and put on dresses. Some of them have no breasts. They probably take hormones, now that I think about it. Growing up in America is the worst thing that could have happened to us. No guidance. But I am not afraid to tell them the TRUTH. No one probably ever told them to be girls. They think they are too far gone. But Allah can remove mountains. Yesterday I saw one standing with two Brothers and I told her to be herself. She said, she was. I said, Yourself is a GIRL. She got mad and said I was trying to change her. She made it sound like such a bad thing I didn’t know what to say. But I said Yeah, she needed to change. I should have told her sometimes change is good. It can be scary but when it is in your best interest, it is the only intelligent path to take.
Then I saw two Sisters, one she had just said something to, but I didn’t make the connection. Then as I approached them, she told them don’t listen to me. Then when she saw she couldn’t stop me from talking to them, she came and told them what had happened between me and her like she was surprised I didn’t know she was a girl. Which is really a good thing. Because she must feel like a girl on the inside and is not aware of how manly she looks. So anyway, one of the girls tells me that is her wife. I said, she looks like your husband! Then they got mad and started talking about my tooth, like everybody does when they can’t think of a comeback on topic. So, I just told them to “Be yourself” and broke.
They had a big second line yesterday. It was a social club second line, not like the wedding I saw in the French Quarter. It wasn’t as happy and joyous as the wedding. I have never seen such happiness in my 45 years of living. It made me sad that I couldn’t get into it. I wanted to be happy too! But yesterday was more like a parade. I heard the band coming and went outside and there it was. I loved the music but there was a float in front of it and I had to see who was on it and read the signs. The band got mad at me and stopped playing, so I kept walking.
It was the Sudan Social and Pleasure Club. I forgot when it was established. But the float was where the Sisters were. They were handing out toys for the children and alcohol to the adults. SMH and I was so disappointed because I knew the music was not coming from a band but when I actually saw it was a DJ, it just deflated my enthusiasm. But the band had stopped playing and I was at the front, so I just kept on going. Nothing is better than the live band.
I let this Sister take my picture, then this devil comes up asking if he could too. I said emphatically, NO!
So, I ended up having to come right back to where I had left the Second-Line and it was completely gone, just like that. I thought it was over and everybody went home until I was on MY way home and it seemed like everybody Black in New Orleans was on Claiborne. It reminded me of Crenshaw on a Sunday. But I think even more people. It was like the whole city came out – All The Black People. And I ended up handing out some fliers I had just made and only saw ONE devil out of all those people. I told the Brother with him that my fliers were only for Black people and he beamed!
Being out there was cool for the youngies but I just couldn’t see myself just standing out on the street doing nothing but looking at everybody. There was a club there and I guess people were inside dancing. Of course, I didn’t go in. They were also barbecuing oysters on a grill outside and I think you could get other food because I saw a Sister with some crayfish.
I found a new cubbyhole, which is much cooler than my old one because I can see the night sky (did you see the MOON!!!???) It’s also less inhabited so there’s less danger of getting caught, not to mention, I don’t have to worry about being silent so much. Al Hamdulillah!
I’m up in the air about whether or not I’m going to try and find a place next month. I’ve have such bad luck living with people, so I’m hesitant about it. But besides the rent money, I don’t really have anything to lose, except maybe my peace of mind, which is priceless. My cubby holes are the most peaceful places I’ve lived in my entire 45 years. And minus the risk of getting caught and arrested for trespassing, I would live there forever. But Allah is the Best Knower and since it seems like He Wants me here in Rawlins, I might as well go legit. Pray for me to retain my peace of mind.
I know a devil who rents out efficiencies (that’s what they call bachelors now) and I’ve had such bad luck renting from this Blackwoman that I’m even willing to give the devil a try. At least, I KNOW she’s a devil. Black people can fool you sometimes. And that hurts. Not to mention the stress of having to admit that my own people are doing me dirty.
OMG, you know I play too much, right? Well, last night at the Second Line hangout, there were these two Brothers – I didn’t realize they were with some Sisters until it was too late. Anyway, they were Both some cute little youngies and one of them – the Alpha – decided he was going to ignore me and pretend like he was sleep and whatnot.
So, I gave a flier to his friend and the Alpha was sitting there with his mouth hanging open, so I very slowly and gingerly stuck the flier in his mouth! ROFL!!!! Why did he want to kill me after that? LOL These Nawlins’ Brothers get so pissed off!!! It is so funny. This is the third time I’ve got some Brother really really pissed at me. And I was just playin’! He was cussing me out and his friend was laughing. I was trying so hard to be sorry, but I think he knew how funny I thought it was because he kept getting madder and madder. But it’s hard for me to believe they’re really that mad at me. I feel like they’re faking it just to get to me or something. I mean really? But the situation kept escalating and then the Sisters didn’t like all the attention I was getting and they started player-hating and I had to just leave. But I laughed all the way home. That was some funny stuff.
If I didn’t leave when I did he probably would’ve hit me. LOL
California guys like when I do crazy stuff to them, like the time I slapped Cosby in his sleep. He couldn’t believe I did that, but he liked my fyah and unpredictability. New Orleans Brothers are so sensitive. I have to practically get on my knees and beg them to forgive me and they still don’t. LOL Gotta love it.
Love Ya, My Bebie!
~ LOVE ALLAH ❤️

Zawji’s Doppelgänger

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Well, I’m still single.

Every year, on Zawji’s birthday, I hope it’s the day.

But it’s over and no word from him.

I did get some good news, which I had been hoping for for years. And, I think it’s notable that the news arrived on his birthday.

Our favorite emcee reunited with his DJ after nineteen years of being estranged. Which was good news. I only hope it’s not a hoax.

I spent the day searching for a restaurant in New Orleans that served any fish other than the pig of the sea and its cousin – catfish and tilapia. We walked from the Seventh ward to the ninth ward and back, passing by (as they say in NOLA) about six or seven restaurants and finally, the last one we found before returning home sold trout.

I was forewarned that New Orleanians live off of that filthy fish but I was still unprepared to learn that that was the ONLY fish they eat. I mean EVERY restaurant I asked what kind of fish they served and the answer was always that pig. AND ONLY that pig. I had never heard of such a thing.

In the Quotah and L.A., you can get salmon and snapper and, in NOLA, a new fish to me, redfish.

But, I’m avoiding writing about what’s really on my mind.

I feel so trepidatious (I’ve started making up words. English is lacking in allowing me to be able to express how I feel sometimes) about the situation I’m in. I mean, I know this is where Allah and my Zawji want me to be. I can just feel it but I know I’m being tested.

And the uncertainty about how long I’m going to be in this situation has me on edge.

I LOVE New Orleans beyond description and I’m infinitely blessed to be in this situation.

I have a benefactor and all I have to do is enjoy life. But, he’s a man and my Zawji’s doppelganger so naturally there is an attraction.

I KNOW that my Zawji is the ONLY man on Earth or in the Heavens above the Earth that I was meant to spend my life with.

In Islam, the Holy Quran teaches us that when we are born, we are one-half of a soul (Nafis). Therefore, there is only one person that can be the other half of our soul. And, I am inexplicably fortunate to have been informed, by Allah, of whom the other half of my soul is.

But this life can be extremely complicated and I know there are several, probably infinite dimensions. I am in the process of perfecting myself to join my Zawji in the Nation of Islam dimension which is one hundred per cent Right and Exact.

In this dimension in which I currently live, he is not living the life of a righteous Muslim, and my benefactor, is the equivalent to what it would be like to live with Zawji in this dimension, which is why I am with him now.

The Holy Qur-an teaches us that ALLAH is our Rabb which translates to “Nourisher unto perfection.” He refines us and nourishes us until we reach perfection. It comes in degrees and right now I’m at a degree where I’m learning how to be with my Zawji in a perfect world and I can’t do it by myself. I’ve reached perfection by myself, now I have to learn how to be perfect with my Nafis and this Brother is a step on the ladder up to perfection.

We mix extremely well, but I can feel that it is only temporary. I mean, I have never gotten along so well with a Brother. ANY Brother. Except Zawji, of course, but it’s different now because I’m conscious of it.

He kissed me and discomfitted me so much, because I felt something. When I was in the A and “hooked up” with one of Zawji’s doppelganger’s doppelgangers, I didn’t feel anything except the longing for Zawji.

It’s different this time because he is actually Zawji’s doppelganger and not a doppelganger’s doppelganger. For example, Method Man is my Zawji’s doppelganger and I’ve hooked up with one of Method Man’s doppelgangers and didn’t feel anything. Busta Rhymes too. I like both of them but didn’t feel anything because they were a degree away from being an actual doppelganger.

But this brother is an actual Zawji doppelganger and it’s making me uncomfortable because I’ve never been in this situation before.

I know Zawji is testing me before he takes me back. So, that makes it easier to resist him. Because I know. I have a secret weapon to stay chaste. I’m not going to give it away though because that will make it lose its power, I think.

It helps that I’m a Muslimah. Al Hamdulillah.

I know he’s not the one, so I’m not kidding myself. I’m just “riding it out” which has become my new mantra. Just trying to make the best of my situation. I mean, really, I’m blessed. All I, literally, have to do is just enjoy New Orleans and play house with a wonderful man in a wonderful city with wonderful people until my Zawji comes to collect me.

It’s been two days.

I’ve been in a close situation with a Zawji doppel before where I felt like I missed out on getting married, but A. he wasn’t Zawji and B. Allah Knows where I am. So, I don’t really feel like I messed up by not going to Miami.

I’ve always been a busy body and sitting in one place is particularly difficult for me. I’m a go-getter and I’m learning how to wait. Hakim (my son) used to call me “Impatientifah” when my name was Latifah LOL but seriously, patience is something I’m desperately trying to cultivate.

My former greatest fear was turning hypocrite like Malcolm. And, our Beloved Messenger (May the peace and the blessings of Allah forever be upon him) taught us that his sin was impatience (not waiting for Allah and acting when HE wanted to act) so I am REALLY trying to learn from his mistakes.

I already decided that when I do put down roots, I want it to be in NOLA, but not with this Brother, so I can’t put them down just yet. I’m just getting a taste of it now. I’m not kidding myself, I know this is not going to last, so in contrast to how it will be when I finally marry Zawji, I won’t have to have a Plan B.

Man, I am really paying for eating all of that heavily fried fish. I can’t remember the last time I had fried anything. Our Beloved Messenger (Peace Be Upon Him) Taught us in How To Eat To Live not to fry our food. So, it has to have been at least five years or more since I’ve had fried food and I am experiencing acid reflux to the point where I can’t even sleep. It’s four o’clock, almost time to get up and I’ve been up all night.

I can’t relax in general, for fear of getting too comfortable and falling into temptation. I don’t know how long I can do this. I know Zawji wants to sweep me off my feet and swoop in and burn some other man. I know this Brother can handle it though, it seems as if he already knows. I mean, I keep Zawji’s picture close at hand at all times. But…

It’s been two days…

 

Nia

بِسْــــــــــــــــــمِ اﷲِالرَّحْمَنِ اارَّحِيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Brothers and Sisters of Allah’s Chosen People
The So-Called American Negroes of the Asiatic Tribe of Shabazz

Nia means “Purpose” in Kiswahili.

I am learning day by day what Allah’s Purpose for me is in life.

My purpose, just like every other Black person on the Earth,
Is to Submit to the Will of Allah.

His Will For Me is to Help Him Raise the Mentally Dead So-Called American Negroes

And I am a Muslim; so Willingly or Unwillingly I MUST submit.

He Has Me In ATLANTA, THE CAPITAL OF GEORGIA, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

And it is getting very interesting.

Allah Told Me Years Ago Who My Soulmate Is, Which Makes Me Very Lucky.

Because I’m not looking.

But instead of pairing me with my Soulmate right now,
Which will bring about an end to my Ministering,
He Has Me Playing “Girlfriend” To Other Brothers,
Raising Them Up To Higher Standards.

It Never Goes Past The
“Getting To Know You”
Stage
Because They’re Not My Soulmate.

That’s my favorite part of Love.
It’s New and Exciting and Fun and Interesting
And I Thrive in that Arena!

It Just Gets To Wherever Their Level Is.
I Bring Them There;
Tell Them What They Need To Do To Advance;
They Get Pissed;
I Get Bored;
And
I
Go
Back
To
My
Husband
.
❤

Junior Fruit of Islam

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

POSTER

I can’t believe my son is a Teenager!

It seems like only yesterday……….

When he would look up to me and proudly proclaim, “I can touch your shoulder!“

Or when he could finally see his whole face in the bathroom mirror…. 🙂

Or when he would run and hug me tight during a heated game of tag.
*I was “base.”  😉 ❤ ❤ ❤

Or when he would get “lost” looking for the kitchen. SMH

Or his bomb-ass beat box – 2nd only to Buffy RIP 😥 😥 😥

Or that face he would make flipping over his bottom lip that still makes me laugh.

HAKIM AND HIS WIFE

Or that video we made in Leimert of him with Akala in that tree by Crenshaw,
that he wore me out with……. :/

The way he can find ANYTHING lost or missing ANYWHERE!!!

His expert advice.

The way he saved face when my little Doppel kicked him in his in the roda. :/

His competitiveness whenever Kirikou showed up. 😉

That frightening vertigo when he and Ameer decided to pick me up!

His Muhammad Ali impersonation.

His company.

His swag.

HAKIM ON THE MIC
Reppin’ the Black Nation in front Muslims from “across the water”

HAKIM IN HIS B-BOY STANCE

His overprotectiveness (“Who dat?”) 😛 #aintnevahbeentoNOLA 😀

His “transitions” that he would have to remove to find something outside, then couldn’t see. :/

11216259_10206355309456048_6824296377964802610_n

The growth chart on the wall that would surpass me now.

How he made me laugh when still in the womb. 😉

The frequent trips to the emergency room.

TODDLER HAKIM

The grass stains. :/ #boyz

Capoiera and Drum Lessons

HAKIM ON THE DRUMS HAKIM ON THE DRUMS CLOSEUP

Art Camp and Piano Lessons at The Watts Towers

ASL Lessons and how we could communicate
from long distances without having to yell

Him learning how to write and read Arabic and English at the same time.

fedora

Homeschooling

SCIENTIST SCIENCE PROJECT AT SCHOOL

His comic strip whose main character was a Superhero, named “Jamil” #ZAWJI ❤ and whose father and uncle were also Superheroes and the Grandfather.

JAMIL ANOTHER SUPERHERO HAKIM'S SUPERHERO SUPERHERO'S FOREPARENT

His puppet shows, made out of socks, but that were so entertaining!!!

His determination to do anything he put his mind to.

His resiliency and ability to adapt to ANY situation.

The way he had all the children at the shelter competing to be KK to his Rodney C…

His fingerprints on the wall…….

I miss you, ابني

The way he reminded me of the time, when I was supposed to be cooking his Dinner LOL #gottaloveit ❤ ❤ ❤

HAKIM EATING TO LIVE

His Science Experiments

His patience and tolerance of my mood swings.

The way he would alert me to the presence of devils (one time in ASL).

How he knew when I was ready to leave just by the sound of my keys.

How he would just say, “That’s my Mama…” whenever I did something crazy.

I love you, ابني

أمي

JUNIOR FOI

Sweet Thought

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

YOU’RE THAT SWEET AFTERTASTE IN MY MIND….
“SWEET THOUGHT”
Like Tarik kinda
But Betta
All Up In My Mind
You Got
That Good Kinda Honey
With the Skrong Flavour
Like No Other
Pure Natural
Acadiana
Certified Cajun
My Personal Apiary
No Bees Necessary
It’s all in your smile
Your wordz tacitly
Tingle my Brain,
Sweet Thought
From yours to mine
No sounds
All Telepathic Sweet Thoughts
Traveling on Sound Waves
All up and through my brain
Unspoken Sweetness
Stimulates
Creativity
Musefully
Musically
Mentally
Sweet Thoughts
On My Tongue
Delicious and Profound
You Are Amazing!!!
MY Jamal
Sweet Honey Thoughts
Transmit through silent tastebuds
Nonverbally communicating
Your Infinite Love to Me ❤ ❤ ❤
Part Two
My mouth is utterly useless now
(Audible Words are gratuitous…)
(Speech is primitive and outdated…)
Used only to savour
The honey-sweet thoughts
You transmit
From Brain to Spinal Chord
To Heart To Arm to Hand
To Pen to Paper
I WRITE
Of Sweet Thought
He Gets All Up In My
(sweet)Mouth(thought)Mind
Impregnating Ideas in Me
Of Honey-Sweet Thoughts
That Skrong Flavour – Like No Other
Certified Cajun
Product of Louisiana
C’est magnifique!
*kisses fingertips*
Bon Appetit! 😉
 ❤ الله

HALLOWEEN 2015 IN NOLA

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Sisters and Brothers!

New Orleans is outta control. They call it Raw-lins’ And I can bear witness, it gets pretty Raw out here.

Anyway, I left work on Friday. I can’t remember what I did.

Saturday, I made a garment – completely hand sewn, with material donated by The Hyatt Regency, courtesy of a Violet table cloth I happened to pass by.

Look, they built that hotel on my land. Everything in it is mine. They are the ones trespassing.

Anyway. Thanks for the iron, too.

I didn’t go anywhere all day. I’ve been like that out here. I go out on weekdays, but the past few weekends, I’ve stayed “home” all day. Both days. I just don’t feel like going anywhere. But weekdays I’m gone all day. I don’t know why. I just go by what Allah (God) Tells me to do. That’s why they can’t catch me. Unless I let them.

I’ve been eating so good. Zawji is such a good provider. I call him Razzaq, which is Allah’s (God) Attribute of Provider.

St. Somebody or other had their Homecoming Dance at the hotel. And I got so regretful and penitent remembering how my Zawji had begged me to go to his Homecoming, but my parents were so strict you would have thought they were Muslims.

I couldn’t go nowhere in High School. Not Homecoming, night dances, Ultra Wave, parties. NATHAN! They reluctantly let me go to Prom. No fanfare. Now, I wish they hadn’t. :/

Anyway, why did some little fast ass girl let this little Brother bring her right next to the HONEYCOMB HIDEOUT, AND THEY START JUKIN’!!!!!!!!! #nolaslang

You know me. I do not condone fornication under any circumstances. So, I started making ALL KINDA noise. So, they would know that they were not alone! Why did they keep going? :/

So, then I said something. TWICE!!! I forgot what I said now, but they KEPT GOING. Lil’ freaks.

So, then I was like, “Next time, make him get you a ROOM!“

She must’ve felt cheap then, because they were gone in ten seconds.

Then later another couple came by – COMPLETELY DIFFERENT than the first. They sounded like me and Zawji. We were married at birth. The Holy Qur-an calls it two parts of the same soul. Nafis in Arabic.

Anyway, it was obvious he respected his wife because he said, “Hello? Hello?” to make sure no one was there. I didn’t say nothing and just let them make love. It was cool too because there was other noise in the hotel and I didn’t even know when they had finished. He sounded like he had some money in his pocket too, or some jewelry or something though.

I ended up crying thinking how different my life would have been…….. 😥  Ididn’tevenask……  😥 😥 😥

So, every now and again I come across a pair of shoes. They’re always in fairly good condition. But, I love my Chucks. So, I always pass on them. I don’t need more than one pair of shoes.

But there’s been a pair of black sneaks right outside the hotel for at least a week. They might have been there before I went to the hospital. Nobody has taken them. Zawji told me they were for me. And I thought a thousand people probably (wait, I did go somewhere on Saturday. That was the day the Pelicans played the Golden State Warriors. Zawji wanted to go up there, so we went. I found two umbrellas. Kept the best one and tried to sell the other one. But everybody was pissed because Cali came out on top. I should’ve played up the color RED. Everybody had on red last night. They lost anyway. But if you’re gonna lose, at least look good.

Black people look so good in red. Especially our children.

I couldn’t lose because I live in New Orleans, but I’m from California. 😛 I think I was a little bit happier because The WARRIORS WON tho’ AGAIN!!! ❤ ❤ ❤ #worldchamps 😀 😀 #CALIFORNIA ❤

Anyway, I met a Sister and ended up giving her the umbrella.

10013007_495310933977068_1562931083028793220_n
If anybody knows a Black Dentist in New Orleans, please comment with his/her information. I prefer a female. Thanks!

So anyway, I thought 10,000 people probably passed those sneakers tonight, but ZAWJI KNOWS BEST.

So, no sooner had I put them down in the Hideout than I noticed something jump out. It was a tawny brown and, at first glance, I thought it was a cricket. I’m from L.A. and even those are rare, but it was the first association I had. But, when I looked closer, I saw it was a little frog! With huge black eyes.

I played with it for a minute, then it hopped somewhere close to my stuff and I thought, “I can’t have you hidin’ out somewhere in the hideout.” I didn’t know his name yet. Zawji told me later, it’s Hopper.

So, I ended up putting it in a container and now I have a pet frog. Let me see if I can find a picture on Google. Okay, I can’t find a picture and it’s just as well, because it died last night. I tried to feed it a fruit fly but I couldn’t get it to eat. I should’ve let him go as soon as I thought about it. 😥 RIP Hopper ❤ ❤ ❤

I hate to say it but I learned, while eavesdropping on a devils’ tour of Congo Square, that according to them, Congo Square is where the devils dropped off their slaves while they went cavorting in the French Quarter. :/

The slaves tell it like they went there voluntarily. :/

Two sides to every story.

I also hate to say it but I LOVE Jazz musician funerals. Probably because I’ve never known either of them personally. But the MUSIC!

I went to Uncle Smokey’s wake staying outside for the most part because Muslims can get in BIG Trouble for going to a Christian funeral or wedding or even eating and drinking with them.

We are not allowed to socialize with Christians at all. The Holy Qur-an warns us that they will not stop trying to revert us back to their dirty religion importunately and incessantly.

I was able to tell one of Branford’s Doppels to tell Wynton about How To Eat To Live and had a ball singing my heart out to a Brass Band. It was the first time really. I loved it.

I finally admitted this morning that the music of New Orleans is the Dixieland Jazz they play in cartoons all the time. I remember one about a flea circus. But it sounds so much better now! LOL

What do kids know? 😉

If I could convince one of these jazz bands to let me sing with them…. YA’LL JUST DON’T KNOW!!!!!! I would blow your mind! But I have to get approval from the King first. I was BORN to do this. Well, I enjoy it immensely. 😀

I was born to teach the good news to my Brothers and Sisters who have never heard it. And pray Allah opens their eyes, ears and hearts.

TO BE CONTINUED

Runaway Bride

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fr8_JidiptU

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beautiful and Beloved Asiatic Black Sisters & Brothers

I know it’s been a minute since I’ve “checked in,” but I learnt from Edward Kennedy “Duke” Ellington, that it’s okay to take some time and gather your thoughts before writing about something.

However, before I get to my latest escapades…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pE7UY2nrH1o

*Somebody little, one of my children, no doubt, thought she was saying “Ice Capades” 😉 LOL*

I wanna share with you a tip I discovered while hand sewing this garment. (No machine 😦 but you Can’t Stop My Go!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDHOiNaiiWs

Instead of making a knot at the end of the thread before you start stitching; make the knot after you make your first insertion. I learned how to finish a stitch from this video. You can do the same thing in the beginning.

Just insert your needle twice and make the loop, pull the thread through a couple of times and then the needle. Then you can go on and sew without having to worry about tying a knot in the beginning.

Okay, now that I’ve stalled, let me tell you about my big faux pas.
(In NOLA, you have to speak a little French 😉 )

You know, my Zawji and I were supposed to get married on his birthday (the 22nd). I told you I’m still practicing, but that doesn’t explain my hiatus. Well, three days before the wedding, I got an extreme case of cold feet. And, I deliberately got busted shoplifting. The Security Guard was just as cool as the devil manager was evil. He gave me so many opportunities to retain my freedom. Some Black cops and Sheriffs seem to be acutely aware of the PTSD Black people like me suffer from.

But all I could think about was a shower. I knew I didn’t want to go back to jail, because I would’ve had to remove my headpiece, AND I would’ve been out in two days and like I wrote previously, cold feet… So, I acted crazy enough to get committed to the psych ward.

It was new because I’ve been to jail. And, I’ve been to the psych ward. I’ve even been to the psych ward in jail, but I’d never been to jail in the psych ward (hospital).

Zawji tried so hard to get me out in time for the wedding. But, I wouldn’t let him. I got caught up in getting married and completely forgot that I was supposed to be his birthday present. 😥

But Allah is The Best Knower and The Best Planner and
EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON.

While in the hospital I had an epiphany. Rather, a recollection of something I had completely forgotten. I went on a date with a Brother when my husband was away!

I know right? Me? Never woulda thunk.

But, he shipped out right after we got married and I had just learnt I was pregnant, but I was still partying and carrying on like a single woman.

In fact, the only reason I STOPPED partying is because this Brother –
at a party – told me (six-months pregnant by then :/ ),
“If you were my woman, I would beat your ass.“

*Thank-you Brother, by the way. If more Black men would take control of their women, we wouldn’t be in such a bad condition – AS A NATION.

So, anyway, in the hospital, in which I had a beautiful view of Canal Street overlooking a luscious waterfall fountain. This was, by far, the nicest psych emergency room I’ve ever visited. It’s so crazy because everything in NOLA is either BRAND NEW or completely dilapidated and in a state of disrepair due to Hurricane Katrina. It’s like living in a bi-polar city; TWO EXTREMES.

I got a good taste of it last night. I felt like getting out. The plan was to go to Tremé to visit Hisaan – Damisha’s Baby Daddy. Yes Gir, I have to put you on blast for trying to pass that horsebaby off as my Zawji’s. We both know your Baby Daddy is a horse. And yes, Black people, bestiality and grafting is alive and well in America. Damisha’s horsebaby is proof.

I seriously hope you were artificially inseminated. Although, J’me told me she saw a video of a woman having sex with a horse at Ice T’s club. :/

Anyway, I came up on somebody’s lunch the other day at the Greyhound station (Thanks Zawji! 😉 ❤ ) and it was full of apples. So, I was on my way to give him one and I stopped to take a rest and he “told” me to eat it.

So, afterwards, I was gonna go anyway, with just me, but I thought he might be sleeping, so I stopped in “The Lion’s Den” and listened to this broadcast of a live show and the Brass Band had me open deep and wide! I tried to go catch the show, but couldn’t find it. Ended up in The French Quarter and then at the banks of the Mississippi, once again.

I’ve been in NOLA nearly two months and I’m still seeing new sights!!! I don’t see how anybody can view one week as long enough to take a holiday. True, we did see alot on our family trip to Hawaii, but I think that’s just because my parents gave me and my Sister liberty to roam the city one afternoon and if we didn’t find a party! #onlyme

But anyway, this time I took the Riverwalk and if that shit wasn’t the most romantic thing (2nd) I’ve ever experienced in my whole life. I took it to the end/beginning of Canal Street and the chasm between the haves and the have-nots there is strikingly palpable.

I almost fell on my knees in succor to my Brothers and Sisters, beseeching them to unite and open a hotel. If we would boycott ONE DAY, we would shut this city down.

We are too complacent – too satisfied with crumbs. I’m convinced every devil visiting this city is a billionaire. The hotels, restaurants, bars, stores, etc. are too nice. One hotel has four lanes for Valet parking!!! It looks like fucking LAX!!! But instead of uniting and trying to get some of that Cream at the top,

We’re content with the Crumbs that fall off the table to the floor. Even raising the minimum wage to $15/hour is horseshit compared to the wealth I saw last night.

But anyway, back to the hospital. I stayed until they let me go. They didn’t want to, but I wouldn’t cooperate. It was nice, much nicer than any of my reses in NOLA, but ever since I heard a Brother say that anywhere you can’t walk down the street is jail, I’ve never been content to stay in any psych ward longer than necessary. I don’t care how nice it is.

It was after Zawji’s big day, but I remembered going on that date. I know it was after I was married because I ordered three hot dogs, rather, I had the Brother buy me three hot dogs. So I know I had to have been preggers. I would not have eaten that much if I wasn’t. I feel horrible.

I swear I have split personalities. I know I wasn’t showing at the time and the poor Brother didn’t find out I was pregnant until months later, when I saw him at the Fox Hills Mall.

Anyway, that little detail from my past has been buried for over 24 years only to be uncovered right before I was scheduled to be married again. All things work for good for them who love the Lord. So, it’s all good. It helped me realize I need to rework my plan for staying committed. All Praise is Due to Allah.

I’m so sorry, Beloved Honey-Sweet Zawji. Your birthday comes only once a year. We can wait or we can do like our poor foreparents, who had no knowledge of the date and just say we did it on your birthday. Whichever pleases you, My King. I submit. This is the last issue I had to overcome. It’s smooth sailing from here.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

I LOVE YOU!

Nomorerunnin’………

TIMELESS….. CLASSIC

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

You are the BEST!
I just love you more than my words can express.
You Are So Strong But Gentle Too.
So Tall and I love you.
How can you deny my love so strong?
I’ll wait for you my life long.
You reject me like you don’t want me.
But I know better because Allah Guides Me.
He told me you were made for me.
So, I’m going to wait for you til eternity.
I’ve got nothing else to do.
I’ll just sit here and wait for you.
You can pretend you don’t love me.
But we both know better.
So, why not just send me a letter.
You can put it in a bottle,
Somehow it’ll reach me,
Our love is so deep,
Deeper than the deep blue sea……

I was made for you and you were made for me.
There’s no way to avoid your Destiny.
Just Accept Your Own
Just Accept Me.
And Be Yourself.
So we can live happily
In Heaven on Earth
Together Forever
As intended from birth.
You Can Bet I’m Not Going Anywhere,
I don’t care how many women you have tell me you’re not there.
I’ll be back, on this you can be sure.
Our Love is enveloping, never-ending and pure.
It is explosive and a little bit scary.
You were shaking when I saw you.
But if you just submit,
You will find yourself in Heaven at once.

There is no Heaven after you die.
Heaven is on Earth,
And the only Heaven you will ever find
Is with me.
Our Love Is Divine
And It Will Only Get Stronger With Time.

I LOVE YOU, SWEET HABIBI, FOREVER AND EVER AD INFINITUM…….

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤