Rev. J.W. Loguen – Slave Narrative

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim

In the Name of Allah, The Beneficent, The Most Merciful


As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beloved and Beautiful Asiatic Members of the Aboriginal Black Nation in the Wilderness of North America!!!

Thanks, Thanks, Thanks to Our Saviour, MASTER FARD MUHAMMAD, To Whom Praise is Forever Due, for leaving Heaven and Coming to find and deliver us from our heartless and brutal slavemasters who have destroyed us and who now Our Saviour Plans to destroy for their wicked and evil acts of murdering us, the righteous, their poor, harmless and loyal slaves.

Al Hamdulillah!
All Praise is Due to Allah!

Beloved Brothers and Sisters, you may not know this if you are new to my blog, but I am an avid student of Black History, especially that history that pertains to our enslavement in the Hells of North America.

I devour slave narratives, but only those that were written prior to emancipation. Those written after are much more watered down with an emphasis on how grateful the slave is to have been freed. Whereas, the ones written by fugitive slaves emphasize the cruel conditions which forced them to take their lives into their own hands and seek freedom on some of this good earth – live or die.

I was on Facebook looking at some posts I had made “on this day” a year ago and came across the following narrative which I had never made time to read.

Well, I started reading it and it blew me away. The memoirs that can only be transferred to us by one who has actually experienced the horror of slavery are a must for our and future generations.

We can never forget the history of this Nation lest we be the worst losers. It puts into crystal clear perspective the harsh treatment we are still receiving at the brutal hands of our slavemaster’s children and I cannot overemphasize the necessity of educating our children of the murderous activities of the devil Caucasians who forcibly brought our foreparents to this country and among whom we still must live.

Please click here to read the narrative of fugitive slave,




As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum My Bebies!!! is a homeschooling website that gives you the benefit of a quality education for your child away from the distractions and detriments that come with public school.

You can educate your child under your own careful supervision with the same curriculum but at your own pace and on your own schedule.

Take your child out of the devils’ school and away from the devils who only invite them to indecency and filth.

And by all means supplement their curriculum with our own Black History!!!

Ask them if they still give out computers!!!

Dr. K

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Ebenezer Baptist Church (Atlanta, Georgia)

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Sisters and Brothers of The Asiatic Black Nation of the Planet Earth

Practically, ever since I alighted in Atlanta, everyone has been asking me if I’ve been to the Dr. King Memorial.

I, actually, had zero interest in going to see anything memorializing integration and the humiliation my people suffered begging in vain for equal rights from our heartless and merciless slavemasters.

But I didn’t have anything to do today. So, someone had told me they have a food giveaway near there on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I thought “What the hell?

So, I was told to take the streetcar from Woodruff Park and ask the conductor where to alight. But, I didn’t have any money (cash) and I have a personal vendetta against paying for public transportation in a country where I pay taxes. So, I decided to put my healthy, strong legs to use and started walking.

It was a little after 8:00 this morning, so there were very few businesses open. And that was exactly how I like it. I get to explore freely without anybody judging and questioning what I’m doing there. I LOVE EXPLORING.

So, I followed the train tracks and livestreamed on FB. You can see the videos (what I got) on my profile. For some inexplicable reason, Allah does not let me videotape when I REALLY want to videotape something. Okay, He Just Let Me Know, He Wants Me To Buy A REAL CAMERA.

I haven’t had one since I videotaped my husband 17 years ago.

I suddenly lost interest. 🙂

❤ ❤ ❤

It’s time tho.

Anyway, my camera kept cutting off and if I’m anything, I’m persistent, so I kept trying.

I was just walking, taking in the sights. I started down Washington ❤ ❤ ❤ (my husband’s last name) since I’ve never gone down that street and saw Georgia State University. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s in the heart of downtown. The buildings look like they could be office buildings. I’ve been to a lot of colleges and universities and I’ve NEVER seen one like this. There is absolutely no continuity. Every other institute of higher learning is located on it’s own plot of land, whereas you know when you’ve entered the campus and you know when you’ve left. This school is scattered all around downtown.

And, the design of this city is also unlike any other city I’ve ever visited. You know the main attraction is Underground Atlanta. Well, not only is this mall underground, but the whole city practically is underground. As I walked, I was underground about fifty percent of the time. It is so unusual. You can enter a building at street level and it looks like there is one floor above it, but if you walk around the side of the building, you’ll see that there are five more floors beneath the surface!!!

America was built by Freemasons and everything is placed where it is for a reason. There is a reason why the founders of Georgia chose Atlanta for the location of their capitol. I have excellent navigational skills and it’s tricky for even me.

So, I was walking and this Brother entered a building right in front of me, so I was like, “Okay”, and I followed him in. There were pictures of Black people at the concert hall across the street from the forties. I love old pictures of Black People and their daily lives. So, I filmed the photos and went through the foyer and the parking lot was on the other side.

These buildings!

I was expecting a reception area and an elevator to take you up to the units. But a parking lot! With lower floors, of course.

So, I’m seeing signs saying “Freedom Walk” identifying historical landmarks and I noticed this building (btw, I still can’t get over all of these brick buildings. I’m from L.A. and the first thing I think about are earthquakes, then I remember Atlanta doesn’t have earthquakes, at least not yet.) So, this building was built in 1913 and was the largest concert hall for Black people in the South. Let me google it. Oh yes, the street was called “SWEET AUBURN” Isn’t that the most delicious sounding street ever???!!!! 😀

I went to a store because I saw these two Brothers standing outside, called Sweet Auburn Groceries. Turns out the Brothers were from New Orleans. I know Allah Wants Me To Go To New Orleans when I leave here. I’m procrastinating calling my landlord telling him, I’m not coming home. He sounded so happy when I called. Allah Makes Me So Unpredictable and Spontaneous. It’s fun for me, but aggravating to people who have to deal with me. :/

Anyway, I go in the building and it was absolutely beautiful. It had a marble floor, walls and staircases. Antiques, stained glass windows of jazz musicians and black artwork. I eased past the security guard and went in the souvenir store. They had Atlanta key chains, but I don’t have any keys. That was the only thing I would have wanted.

Then I was wandering around and found a spot where I could eat the boiled eggs I had bought from the Sweet Auburn Groceries and why was one of them burnt???? 😛 I mean really, have you ever heard of a burnt boiled egg??? LOL I hadn’t but I love eggs and was curious as to how it would taste. It was actually very good, had a “blackened” taste. 😛

I went to Waffle House one morning and ordered a couple of boiled eggs and I know they were trying to be mean and gave them to me undone, but they were O-SO GOOD!!!!!!!

I’m going to make them like that every time I boil them. Think an over-easy yolk in a boiled egg. It was so good!!! I love the warm, runny yolk in over-easy eggs and these were the same thing BUT in a boiled egg. So yummy!!!!

So, I found a storage room with electrical outlets, where I could charge my almost dead phone, so I stayed there about two hours and then came out.

By then, the businesses were open, but I didn’t care, I started videotaping because when I came in, my phone was dead.

So, I’m ignoring the white people working in the building, thinking this is an historical landmark of Black history, just loving it, then this foreign Black lady comes up and starts harassing me. Of course, she didn’t understand being a foreigner, all she cared about was her white master. I thought it was interesting that she was preoccupied with the fact that I was wearing white gloves. I didn’t even know what to say. It’s so ordinary for me.

So, she chased me out and I started videotaping the outside, which was the part SHE told me was the historical part and she kept “bovvering” me (hey Trevor 😛 ) Next thing I know she asks her white master if she could use his camera to videotape me!

So, I HAD to get the Black faces in the outer designs of the building. I really need a real camera because the iphone doesn’t allow you to zoom in. Can you believe that???!!!! That is so frustrating!!!

So, then I go around the corner and cross the street and she’s standing on the corner still videotaping me, so I feel like messing with her now. So, I bumrush her and flip her the bird. But, check this out, there was an open door next to the general entrance, so you know I had to go in.

It was an office building. The ground floor had a Mexican restaurant and I casually walked past the cooks and into the interior of the building. I saw an elevator with the door open so, remembering what had happened at Death Row, I got on. Then I thought about how the building was in repairs and thought better of it. I got back off and took the stairs.

Whenever I enter a new building, I always have to go to the top floor, preferably the roof. So, I climbed the marble stairs six flights up a dimly lit and creepy stairway but when I got to the top floor why was it an old nightclub with a jacuzzi???

It was so dope! I should’ve stayed, but this program I’m in be trippin. Oh yeah, and when I went in the kitchen, I heard a beep and saw a security system, so I broke out. I didn’t want to get caught by the police because I had unknowingly tripped an alarm, and get taken to jail for trespassing like in New Orleans. :/ I’ve got ten more days here, In sha Allah, I can spend them all as a free woman.

But that nightclub was so plush and intimate, AND ON THE ROOF! I was in Heaven! It had a plush decorative rug around a small wooden dance floor. A kitchen that was still partly stacked. There was leather loveseats, I think and another side that I can’t remember what it looks like but there was a beautiful clock that I would have lifted if I had a place to put it. :/ That Jacuzzi was so inviting, reminded me of the time, me and my husband were in the Jacuzzi in Hollywood when the Dungeon Family was in town. ATL!

So, I’m walking and it’s starting to get hot, so I came up on a little corner park with a big statue of M.L.’s face. (That’s what his sister said they used to call Martin Luther King, Jr.) I wanted to sit in the shade though, so I looked around and noticed some parkbenches under some shade trees.

There was a Sister laying down on one, the others were occupied by Brothers. So, I took a seat on the end of the bench where the Sister was laying. She looked up and I just greeted her and started freeing up some data on my phone so, I could take a picture of the statue.

Now, you guys know, I am the most vociferous opponent of the “Sleepytime Down South” mentality by Pops, but stg, that was the most peaceful and relaxing feeling I have ever felt in my life!!!

It was intoxicating. The breeze alone seemed to whisper, “Just sit here a little while...” And the cool of the shade felt so good after walking in the heat of the Sun. I completely understand how one can sit the whole day on a park bench under the shade of a tree. I had to tear myself away, but not after I dallied the first time I felt the urge to move on. I got up the second time.

I don’t think cityfolk will ever understand the feeling unless they feel it for themselves. There was like an unspoken consciousness felt between all of us sitting there. Four of the six of us were sleep. But there was no judgment. It was the natural thing to do.

This white man walked by on the phone, trying to make us feel like we should be working, but nobody paid attention to him. He kept walking and stood inside the empty head of Dr. King. I thought that was symbolic and tried to take a picture, but my camera!!! Argh!!!

So, I saw a streetcar, telling me which direction to travel, so I started walking again. I passed a Black restaurant and it looked busy, but when I tried the door, it was locked. I think they knew I didn’t have any money. At least, that I knew of.

Then I saw an alley with graffiti on the walls and I love Graff, so I entered it and there was a restaurant next door, but I knew it was owned by devils by the music. Allah Told me to sit down even though I didn’t feel like I needed to. I think subconsciously, I just didn’t want to deal with devils. But I must submit to my Maker.

So, uncomfortably I sat down and tried to enjoy the sound of the water from the fountain. It was hotter than when I was standing in the shade. And I hated the music.

Sure enough, I hadn’t been sitting one minute, when this devil woman comes out. I didn’t say anything, then she says can I get you a menu? I said, Okay. But I knew I wasn’t going to order from them. There are too many Black owned businesses I can patronize. So, I got up to leave, and she came out and saw me leaving.

So, I saw a Jamaican restaurant and they had a picture of a meat patty on the window and I love Jamaican food, but those patties taste pasty. I can’t.

Next door to the restaurant was an African Imports store Nyabinghi something, so you know I couldn’t walk by without going in.

There was a Rasta looking elder man and a clearly African-American woman and I could’ve sworn there was a child, but I might be mistaken because when I left there were just those two.

So, I’m looking around and I didn’t like most of the stuff. Too tribal or voodoun, but he had a box of walking sticks. And Allah Told me to pick out this one, so I did. And then the man comes out from this door and told me they were just for decoration. I said, “No, this is for walking.” It was the perfect size for me. I LOVED IT. But I didn’t have any money.

The handle was something like this

But it narrowed down to a very slim and feminine point like this.

Holding that joint felt very right and exact.

I think he felt how the people in NOLA felt about me being a Voodou Queen, because he went by the counter and stood in front of a basket of cowrie shells, very protectively and I could read his mind, “They are money.” Of course, I knew that already.

So, when he finally moved, I started grabbing the shells and letting them slip between my gloved fingers. I asked him where they came from? The beach? He said you have to dig down deep to get them now.

I picked out a couple artificial ones and I know he was impressed.

So, I kept looking around and I saw a basket of crystals, and I was trying to decide which one I should pick up, when I saw something so interesting. I picked it up and it was a beautiful pearlessence shell with an engraving on it. Let me see if I can find a picture. If not I’ll take one, In sha Allah.

Okay, I kinda knew I wouldn’t be able to find a picture. He said they came from the NILE. And I could pick one and have it for myself. He had four. One looked like a hieroglyphic lion, but it was little. I really liked it and almost regret that I didn’t choose that one. The one I chose was of a couple and my name is LOVE, all I ever think about is my Honey-Stick, so you know I chose that one. I forgot what the other two were. Let me try and take a picture.  Okay, I don’t have any space on my iphone.



The shell is beautiful though. The people have Eurocentric features though. Maybe that’s why He Doesn’t Want Me To Take The Picture.

It has a tiny hole on top so I can make it into a necklace if I will.

So, I happen to notice the tracks turn the corner and there’s this big brick church and I’m wondering if I’ve finally made it and I turn another corner and see the neon sign.

ebenezer neon

All I could think was, is this the church where those four little Black girls got blown up?

But I asked the whiteman at the front desk and he said that that was in Bombingham.

Then I asked if they still have services there.

He said they built another church across the street where they have services. This one was a museum now.

So, he tried to direct me up the stairs to the sanctuary, but there was a Black family headed downstairs, so you know I go where the action is, and I igged him and followed the family downstairs. I gave the mother one of my fliers and some more people then I noticed the stage. They had set up a monitor with a video of M.L.’s sister. I think they may have been twins. Let me Google it. Okay, no they weren’t twins, but she made it seem like they were in the same class in college.

Anyway, she said King used sing in the choir when he was young. But not only that, he was the SOLOIST!

That was really profound to me, being a singer.

I was really glad I had come.

Music was a big part of their family. His mother played the organ at Ebenezer and directed the choir. She was killed when a madman entered the church in 1974 and overturned the organ on her during a shooting spree.

So, I’ve been seeing more doppelgangers than usual. I have to be strong. I want the real McCoy.

One of them’s name is McCoy.

And they all are named Jamal or RJ or Dre or some J name or something that rhymes with J.

I didn’t go see the actual memorial of him and Coretta (she sang in the choir too). Too sad.

But I saw a picture and it’s in the middle of a little enclosed pool.

So, I leave and there’s a little neighborhood store I knew was Black-owned, so I went to see how I could support. There were two Muslim Brothers in there. I didn’t know they were Muslim at first, but one of them had on a hat with the American flag on it. And you know I had to pull his coat. He said that that was the only hat he had. I said it looks like you’re the enemy. Muslims rep the Sun, Moon and Star. When I see you rocking Old Hell, you look like the enemy. If I had known the store sold hats, I would’ve bought him one then.

So, I bought some bread that I have been looking for forever. I haven’t seen any wheat bread since I’ve been here. But they had one loaf, so I snatched that sucker up.

Then I came outside and I saw a huge residential building called Wheat Street Apartments and I took that as a sign, so I walked over to some people sitting outside. They thought I was lost. LOL I heard some music and they directed me to the correct address.

So, I walked in and complimented them, but the singer was like this is a closed rehearsal and I’ve been in that situation before, so I left but not before I noticed there was no pianist.

They then started asking about where was the piano player? I called him a “plunker” LOL

He arrived and I kept walking. There was fish place called Supreme Fish or something and wherever and whenever I can find some fish, I’m buying it with the quickness. LOL ‘member that? 😛

But I forgot I had bought an ice cream bar so, I found a grassy field and ate it out of sight.

The fish place was run by this little Ethiopian Brother, and his father was the cook. He was fifteen and all I could think about was I wish young Black boys had something like that

So, when my food was ready, I went back to the rehearsal to catch a hearing from outside.

They sounded really good and another Sister stopped and we rapped and listened to and talked about music, then a bus came and I thought I could have gotten on it, because by now my hands were full with about four bags and I didn’t want to walk anymore.

But Allah Wanted me to walk a little bit more, so I did.

I finally passed a Masonic Lodge and there was a Madame C.J. Walker museum in the back. I decided not to go in there, because she became the first Black millionaire off of SELF-HATE Products. The picture of her had her skin so bleached, it was sickening.

Next door to the Lodge was the S.C.L.C. W.O.M.E.N.S. something and it had a big picture of Coretta and Ralph Abernathy’s wife and all I could think about was the S.C.L.C. building in L.A. on Western that I’ve always been curious about but have never been inside.

OH!!!!!! LOL There was a plaque outside the Lodge and it identified Jesse Jackson as the Bread Basket Man Our Beloved Messenger (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Forever Be Upon Him) talked about in Saviour’s Day – 1971.

I laughed for a good seven minutes. The Messenger (PBUH) CLIZZOWNED HIM on that video.

He’s from Atlanta too, I’m pretty sure, because I met a Brother who talked just like him. That was the fse.

So, before I knew it, I looked up and saw the streetcar coming, so I took out my wallet like I had fare. But you don’t have to show the conductor, you just get on. I found out later, that they stop the streetcar for a minute and come out and ask everybody for fare. I got nervous when he first came out, and started to get off but I DID NOT FEEL LIKE WALKING. He had stopped at Centennial Park and that is the boringest biggest park, in the world. I refused to get off there.

I was just going to have to take the ticket.

But he didn’t even ask!!!! LOL


So, I made it home and now I’m ready to eat my fish.

It’s my favorite dish. 😛

❤ ❤ ❤


بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Black Sisters & Black Brothers


So, last night I learned that New Orleans, despite its big city image, is really just a glorified suburb. Not in the sense of that it is located in the area surrounding a big city, but compared to L.A. – the REAL LA – it feels just like a suburb.

Last night, when I got out of my dance/exercise class, EVERYTHING WAS CLOSED!!! I was completely baffled!!! I looked at my watch. Same time as usual. But the streets were almost completely empty.

So, I turn on the radio and pass a station and the announcer announces the scores for a football game. And then it dawned on me. I was like GTFOH!!!! Seriously??? A football game??? Zawji has been trying to prepare me for reality in America. I sort of chuckled to myself, but had no idea what the night had in store.

So, apparently Atlanta (could be because of their Southern proxiimity to NOLA or they have a good team or whatever) and NOLA have some sort of rivalry, OR it could be because it was a Thursday night, or both, but I continue down the street toward #dtno 😉 and there are all these white tents and I’m from L.A., so immediately start thinking they’re filming.

But, I get nearer and see two huge gigantic T.V. screens with the football game on and I’m like seriously? These are mostly Black people.

So, I go a little farther and can’t go down the street because it’s VIP and you have to have some kind of I.D. :/ I see about three or four tour buses, limousines and those fancy shuttles.

So, I sit down for a minute and try to take it all in.

It’s not even a home game! But, people are at the Super Dome.

So, I ride around to the front and there’s a concert going on. People are walking in that direction with lawn chairs and shit. The music is Rap and there are again, mostly Black People.

In fact, damn near everybody there was Black – the workers/employees/staff, the Po-pos/Sheriffs and the tailgaters. I don’t know if that’s because there’re just a lot of Black People in NOLA percentage wise OR IF THE DEVIL JUST HAS US THAT  CAUGHT UP IN SPORT & PLAY.

Blacks make up 59 per cent of the population in NOLA. Over Half. No wonder I love it here. In L.A., Blacks are less than ten per cent. I feel like there is so much untapped potential. Then again, maybe it is “tapped,” nevertheless, I must do what Allah ordained for me to do, come what may.

All I wanted to do was to find a quiet and peaceful place to spend some quality time with Zawji ❤ ❤ ❤ listen to some good music and just enjoy being in Love….. ❤ ❤ ❤

So then, after I spent some quality time with Zawji, I was on my way home and my fucking chain keeps coming off my bike. Thank-you, Zawji, don’t you ever for a minute think I’m ungrateful. I know you make it come off when you want to. 😛

But anyway, it came off again, and see what I’m saying, I’m walking down the block and I see something move in the street. I looked down and I thought it was a frog, but I looked closer and realized it was in actuality a toad! If I was on the bike then I might have missed it. I love you, Zawji!!!!! Happy Birthday, Bibi ❤ ❤ ❤

All I could think about were the little boys who grow up with toads and frogs and other cool stuff (girls too, I guess 😛 ) I mean, I used to read about boys catching tadpoles and whatnot, but this was a real toad I was looking down at.

I reached down and it let me touch it. It was hard like gravel. It stood there for a minute and it let me rub its back then another car came and I felt like I was in a real-live “Frogger” game. But I didn’t realize the danger until just now. I helped him across the street!!!

So tonight is the funeral for Smokey Johnson. I’m nervous because I love JAZZ and I don’t want to be too conspicuous. I stand out everywhere I go, but I want to blend or at least have a good time, not cry. I’m not even supposed to go to Christian’s funerals, but maybe I’ll stand outside and see if I can listen like all jazz musicians do (before they’re old enough to go in) 😛


بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Black Sisters and Brothers,

So, “yesterday” 😉 I went to workout (cardio). I feel good because I’ve always been physically active, but for past year, I haven’t been participating in any type of exercise. So, we did some floor work and I couldn’t do it all because my pants-skirt kept falling up.

(‘Member this????? What the fuck happened??? Fergie??? Hollywood??? Maybe if I had said Yes, when William asked me if I could sing, I might have been able to save them…… Allah Only Knows. But HE HAD OTHER PLANS FOR ❤ ALLAH)


So, “today,” after “work” I knew I had to get a sewing kit but had no idea what I was going to do for food.

I have been going to the same stores not purchasing anything. But, Zawji Loves Me and he told me where to go. ❤ ❤ ❤ So, I look around but couldn’t find any sewing kits. But I did see some leggings that would be perfect to wear under my pants-skirt and cover my legs properly. They only had X-Large or just Large. I’m a medium/small. Or like Mad Skillz said “smedium” 😉 Which is cool because I can wear clothes that are too large. That’s the beauty of being small; I can just take them in.

But, then I saw something else that looked like leggings too, but the packaging was different. I checked the size and then my Beloved Zawji told me to hurry up and put them in my bag and “get ta steppin‘.” 😉

So, I got two sewing kits, a box of truffles (paid for by four hundred (400) years of free labor by my ancestors) and some q-tips.

So, I thank the cashier as I walk out, bag stuffed like a Thanks Giving Turkey. LOL Catch me if you can, Elmer!!!

Sure enough, I get outside, half-way down the block I hear somebody yelling, but I was NOT ABOUT to turn around and see who dat!  #yaheard?#lotswife

Anyway, I could not wait to get into these cookies! I love cookies. I wanted that to be my nickname in jail. I was going to steal a cardboard box full for the inmates when the trustees weren’t looking, but I ended up with a box of fruit instead. :/ #howtoeattolive #backthentoo 😉 #canthelpit 😀 Zawji and Allah are always watching out for ❤ .

So, I go through the days catch and discover the legging are not leggings, which I hate, but pants! I was ecstatic!!!!!! Thanks Zawji!!!!!
I LOVE YOU ❤ ❤ ❤
7 DAYZ 😀 ❤ ❤ ❤

You cannot comprehend how supersaturated with PURE UNADULTURATED SWEETNESS is my Zawji. He’s like CRYSTALLIZED HONEY!!! ❤ ❤ ❤

Or that crunchy coating on creme brulee!!! Yummy!!! ❤ ❤ ❤

Thank-you, Bibi!!!! You know what I need and give it to me before I even have to ask. I LOVE YOU MORE THAN WORDS CAN SAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BELOVED. YOU DESERVE EVERY GOOD THING THAT COMES TO YOU, LOVE (MOI) MOST OF ALL. 😀 😀 😀
❤ ❤ ❤

So, the other day I realized Congo Square and Leimert Park are very similar. Initially, I was going to write that they are different because the African Cultural Center is so far away, but there is another center close by, which I like better.

They have a basketball court, a pool and better classes. It’s in a Black neighborhood – the oldest Black neighborhood in the country, no less – but I was so disgusted by all the devils that I almost wrote it off completely.

I don’t know why devils always seem to follow whenever I show up at all-Black places. I hate it!

So, “this morning” I woke up and I really, really, really wanted a bath/shower.

I’m an M.G.T. and we are the cleanest, most refined and civilized women you will ever meet.

This homelessness is really a challenge for someone like me who bathes every day without fail, washes my clothes after each wear without fail, performs ablution at least five (5) times a day and am almost OCD when it comes to washing my hands. MGT wear white gloves like BITD (Back In The Day) everywhere we go too.

So, this coupled with the fact that I refuse to use the dirty religion, Christian resources for ANYTHING, has made keeping as clean as I would like to be somewhat challenging, but Zawji said, “Don’t” which was cool by me because I also don’t want to be associated with the Homeless Society and the only place that is not affiliated with the devils’ religion where I could take a shower is the VA and although I’m grateful they changed their name to “Volunteers of America” from “Veterans of America” :/ I still don’t like to go there. There are just too many chronically homeless people there and it’s just, well, it’s just depressing.

So, I went on to ‘work.’ But the chain on my bike keeps coming off, so I was looking for Earl, who fixed it the other day, on my way.

It’s kinda cool though because my Southern-Gentlemanly Brothers see a damsel in distress and immediately offer to help fix it. Of course, I bask in the attention and am obsequious with my gratitude. 😉

So, I thank them profusely as I ride off, smiling and waving graciously until it comes off again. :/

VIRGIL!!!!!! Where are you when I need you, Brother????? 😥 😥 😥 Naa, I know where you are. I luh you, man!!! ❤ ❤ ❤ Wish you were here!

So, on my way to ‘work,’ I pass by a donation bin and clothes are everywhere. And, haute couture is one of my niches, so I stopped and found some long skirts (a white one, at that!) which I desperately needed.

I don’t know how Sisters used to ride bikes BITD! I mean, I know they did, that’s why the bar between your legs is bent – to accommodate our skirts – but damn, I can’t go a block without getting tangled all up! Good thing I wear pants underneath…. 😉

So anyway, before I leave ‘work’ 😛 I go to this website on my list of things to do in NOLA and there’s a water aerobics class scheduled for that night!!!!!

Al Hamdulillah!!!!

All Praise Is Due To Allah!!!!

Zawji ALWAYS knows best. HEAR AND OBEY, your Zawjis, Sisters!!!!

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Yesterday, I woke up and really, rea


بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Sisters and Brothers


Whereas, Los Angeles, heretofore known as L.A. is built on mostly chain stores and franchises, New Orleans, heretofore known as NOLA, is made up of private family-owned business, of which many have been doing business since the 1800s.

I LOVE the entrepreneurial spirit it fills me with but unfortunately, the majority of Black residents just go get jobs in hotels or restaurants. Fortunately, many of the fast-food restaurants are owned by Black People. Also, some of the nicer restaurants, but I have not seen a Black-owned hotel, which is where the bulk of the money lies in a city whose Number one Industry is TOURISM.

I’m trying my best to get the Brothers to unite and open their own hotel, so they can tap into the money from the top and not just scrape up the crumbs that fall from the devil’s convention room tables. :/

The Masons work as freelancers or start businesses but they are few and far-between.

The ones who work for these big hotels and restaurants don’t even receive benefits and the minimum wage here is $7.25! And, I’m sure the employees number at least 300 in the hotel I’m staying in.

I used to sit and watch in wonder when I saw BLACK CONSTRUCTION WORKERS here in NOLA.

I don’t recall EVER seeing a Black construction worker in Los Angeles. I’ve heard all about the “Good ‘Ol Days” when construction jobs were plentiful for Blackmen. Those days are long gone – taken over by Hispanics.

I understand the Blackman’s resentment, but it is misdirected. It is NOT the Hispanics’ fault that the whiteman prefers him over us. Be mad at the devil. He does these types of things DELIBERATELY. First, to leave you unemployed and Secondly, to divide us from our Red half-Brothers.

THE HONORABLE ELIJAH MUHAMMAD (MAY THE PEACE AND THE BLESSINGS OF ALLAH FOREVER BE UPON HIM) taught us until he was unable to teach anymore, that we MUST DO SOMETHING FOR SELF, or else we would be FORCED to do something for self, which is going on now.

They have something out here in NOLA called “THE BLACKBOOK” (Allah (swt) Has Truly Blessed Me with some invaluable resources and opportunities since I’ve been in New Orleans.) and it lists Black-owned businesses.

There are profiles of business owners and almost all of them were FORCED to open their own businesses after they found themselves unexpectedly unemployed (fired).

used to get happy when I saw the Black Construction Workers out here working diligently on the many reconstruction efforts going on all over the city here in NOLA, then I thought about it and realized, we’ve been building the buildings here in America for the devils, since they brought us here to do just that!

I am proud of my Brothers for opening their own companies and working independently, gaining contracts to build these buildings, but I will be ecstatic to see the day when we are able to build OUR OWN infrastructure for OUR OWN BLACK NATION.



Brotherhood Way General Contractors
2004 St. Andrew St., (504) 287-4416;
Contractors provide construction and energy services and specialize in new and commercial construction, energy efficiency and electrical, mechanical and solar PV work.


My Brothers and Sisters, currently employed by the devils, seek out your own by using this invaluable resource – THE BLACKBOOK – and offer your services as an apprentice or intern; do your best to help your Brother or Sister’s business grow and prosper; learn the business and then OPEN YOUR OWN.

That “climbing the corporate ladder” idea should have never been a part of our conversations, except to discourage each other from such thinking. You get the job, learn the business, “stack your paper” and open your own. Whatever you do for the devil, you can do for your own self.