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W

بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم الحمد لله

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beloved Asiatic Black Brothers and Sisters!

On Sunday night, I heard “My Romance” on the radio. Now, I have heard this song for many years. It was used in a television commercial many years ago and I always remembered it. But for some reason, I don’t know why, it seemed remarkably noticeable this time. It just really had that je ne se qua. It made me feel “some kinda way” for some reason.

That sounds like a song. “This time, for some reason”

I thought to myself. “This sounds like the type of song Wynton Marsalis would play.” I made a notation to listen to it next time I got online. As time passed and the more I thought about it, there was no doubt in my mind that I would find a recording of him playing that song. Although I had never heard of him recording it. I just knew.

So, I went to the ‘brary and got online, but forgot to listen to the song!

I recalled the song later in the evening as I was watching the Sunset. You have probably gathered, if you have ever read this blog, that I am a Romantic, so I am extremely sensitive to things like Sunrises and Sunsets, rainbows, flowers, butterflies, hummingbirds, sparrows, mockingbirds and their beautiful melodies, clouds, moons and stars and beautifully moving love songs.

So this particular evening the Sunset was extraordinarily breathtaking and I was really in need of hearing “MY ROMANCE” performed by Wynton Marsalis.

In the movie “Boomerang,” Halle Berry told Eddie Murphy, when they were on their way to New Orleans that it is a “romantic” city. And I bear witness.

When I first arrived, I would often be moved to tears, suddenly perceiving something, usually in the Heavens, as if I was attending some unknown couple’s nuptials.

I can always tell when I have officially arrived in The South by looking at the sky. It is inexplicably different from anywhere else in the country. Just grander.

So, as I bid adieu to our Sun, with that song playing in my heart, I turned around preparing to arise and leave and guess who was right behind me, shining as brightly and as beautifully the Sun?

THE MOON!!!

It was bedecked with stratus clouds; full and amazing! And, I was So Shakur (grateful) to be a witness to all of her magnificence.

So by now, I hate to say I was “fiending” for this song because I know how serious addiction is.

But sometimes I really feel like I am addicted to music. I exhibit the same characteristics. I start scratching and fidgeting, like I need a “fix.”

It is terrible because, like any habit, you have to go out and find your drug, otherwise it will drive you to the point of distraction.

So, off I went.

In search of WiFi.

So I find the song (told you 😎) and pressed play.

It was, not surprisingly, on the album of standards where he is accompanied by his father on piano.

So, I’m thinking his father’s intro is unusually long, and check the time. Halfway in. But W. communicates with me telepathically. He assured me the song is not that long, like many songs written back in the day.

So, I’m like, “Okay, cool,” and keep listening. Still no Wynton. I’m like wtf? And check the time. There’s like thirty seconds left and I’m about ready to cut somebody.

This Nigga put the song I had been dying to hear him play, on his album, but didn’t play on it!!!

Now, deep down I completely understood, but at the time, I was a junkie in need of a fix and I was not trying to hear any excuses.

I was frantic now.

Scouring the Internet for maybe some amateur recording at one of his shows; Some obscure website that isn’t authorized to share it; Maybe a family birthday party or something. ANYTHING!

As I was searching the Internet, I noticed his name kept popping up, regarding some comments he had recently made decrying hip-hop, that had the whole mediaworld in an uproar.

Unsurprisingly, everybody had written articles or made commentary opinion videos saying something about what he had said, but nobody had any footage of HIM saying it.

But, as a journalist myself, I have to have a first-person, uncut, pure account of the facts before I can form an opinion.

So, I found out, he had recently been interviewed by someone affiliated with The Washington Post, on his podcast, “Cape Off” (a play on his name which I cannot recall at the moment). But I would like to know the meaning behind that title.

So, after hearing his voice, I assumed he was a devil. But the avatar on his logo is a Brother. So, idk. And, I couldn’t really tell from the interview itself.

But judging by the description of the podcast, which focuses on race issues, I will have to go with Black.

I vaguely recall W being outspoken against rap when I first heard of him in high school (1985-1988).

Apparently, he is even more outspoken now that his warnings were not attended to and consequently, music has been beaten up.

The reason for the calumny was his remark that rap is worse than the Confederate statues that he was instrumental in removing from his native New Orleans.

I agree one hundred per cent. Most people don’t know anything about those statues.

But people all over the world know who Weezy is.

His point, that everybody overlooked, simply because rap is such a big money-maker, is THAT rap is such a big money-maker, so let’s fix THAT.

It is a bigger problem (worse than the statues) because the negative impact rap has affects millions more Black People than a statue – only seen by the limited number of people who live here (New Orleans) or who can afford to visit.

But you know how the entertainment industry is. You touch their ability to eat, they steal your food.

So, I’ve heard he amended his statement. In Sha Allah, I’ll G that and get back. He posted a long tweet.

Incidentally, W. has been in the entertainment industry a long time and one of the focal points of this interview is that entertainers are trying to sell a product. The current term is “branding.” So, don’t think it is a coincidence that he has a new album dropping in a few weeks weeks. All this “controversy,” whether cleverly orchestrated or not, was certainly seasonal and has since generated a substantial buzz. Nice work, W. Salute.

So, I had to restart the podcast umpteen times before I was finally able to finish it. That just lets me know how important it is. Anytime the computer gods (and they are devils because electricity uses magnets and steel) try to hinder you, use your God power and accomplish your goal anyway.

So, after the second time, I went on ahead and posted it on Facebook on the strength of trying to one-up the computer gods. So, I’ll post it here.

I posted a glowing approbation of his standpoint. His knowledge of and immersion into music is unheard of. He brought me to tears when he got to the part about how Hip-Hop is so detrimental to the SOUL of music because it has ELIMINATED THE MOST ESSENTIAL PART – THE DRUMMER. The heart of the music has been replaced by a machine. (That is the devil caucasian again [steel and magnets]). The bassist has been replaced by a looped bassline, again, generated by a machine.

The drummer, he goes on to say, and the bassist are crucial to the creative process because they are the foundation (“the bottom”) that the rest of the song is built upon.

Without the spontaneity provided by a good drummer and bassist, it is more difficult for the other musicians to create much less, improvise.

As soon as I returned to the podcast to finish it, here he comes with some old typical Southern negro coon shit. Right before he started talking about the music. 😒 Figures.

Rock stars and celebrities, I don’t care how fabulous their lifestyles may appear, are just high priced SLAVES.

They are not happy. No slave can be happy until he or she is FREE.

The Jews who own them (the production, publishing, marketing, distribution and broadcast company owners) are happy though. Because all they do is get up and go to the bank and count all the money that their SLAVES are working hard to make for them to spend and take their family shopping while the slaves’ family can’t even afford a ticket to their own sister’s show.

The devil used to have segregation laws to keep us out. Now they just raise the price.

So, the name of Wynton Marsalis’ new album is “The Ever Fonky Lowdown.”

He explains the idea behind it on the podcast.

But it is contradictory.

(I will go ahead and give you my exegesis, but it would be best to get a first person account from the originator.)

So, here is a society of people living happily and successfully.

Then these new people show up. (Who dat?)

They are different and suspect and numerous.

So they kill them. Convince them that they deserve to be killed and make them desire to be like them but never allow them the opportunity.

The problem with Wynton’s scenario is fallacious from the beginning. It seems our Brother believes that the whiteman was the first man. :/

Or worse, he believes we came to the western hemisphere willingly.

In any case, the chase for slaves is what is known as “THE GAME.”

It is Secret Science/Illuminati/Mystery School/Masonic rhetoric and all that Jazz.

I know because it’s really CHRISTIANITY – THE DEVIL’S RELIGION.

But on a higher level than the people sitting in the pews, who don’t know that the man (slave) behind the pulpit is really a Muslim son (Mason) at work and trying to get paid at your expense.

Yes Dear, Pastor is a Muslim preaching to you Christianity so he can use you as a tool to buy a mansion, a G-8, a helicopter, a yacht, a Phantom and whatever else his bloodsucking heart desires.

They call it a game.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the rapper who goes by that name.

Playing with people’s lives, minds and emotions is a game to them.

When you start to have inklings into this world, they say you’re 51/50 – one per cent too much into their world – so they medicate you, hospitalize you, label you, diagnose you as a person with a mental disorder, and stigmatize you to prevent you from progressing any further into their Secret Society.

But it’s all a game to them. The Christian devils, who have to study thirty-five to fifty years before they can wear your flag turn around and CHARGE you to wear it.

All you Masons, fraternities, sororities, Zulus and other S&PCs, police and service people, judges, politicians and ENTERTAINERS. You can get out the game (I know and YOU know you want to) but you have to be brave enough to go ALONE to free yourself and escape the Plantation.

First, stop playing both sides of the fence.

You can’t be a Christian AND a Muslim.

The Jesus said, you can’t serve two Masters.

That’s some old Jewish lie to make you think you can’t lose.

Because they are not Christians. But they are not Muslims either. So they are going to lose and take you with them.

So yeah, W. The game is DEFINITELY LOWDOWN.

But it is only GREED that is keeping you in it. Lay down your burdens. Let Go and Let Allah FREE you.

My Big Brother, Akhi, told me MUSLIMS don’t play that game.

There is nothing in it but SLAVERY, SUFFERING AND FINALLY DEATH.

Wynton admits he’s just trying to be heard. That’s how they get you. Everybody wants SOMETHING!

Just like the devil took Prophet Isa (Jesus) up on that mountain and offered him the world, the devil is doing the same thing today to you and me.

Our Holy QUR’AN teaches us that they will not cease until they have succeeded in turning us back to their dirty religion.

For many of the slaves, this is their only job. Kill the righteous. Tempt the righteous or we will kill you. And it is always the people closest to you. This is why you have to go alone.

In ISLAM, defending yourself against these incessant, futile attempts to turn you back into a Christian slave is called JIHAD.

Most people want money. But sometimes people already have money. So it’s love or sex, fame or drugs and that’s pretty much it.

Eliminate all WANTS and they can’t touch you.

Islam is The Religion Of Peace talked about so much in the Bible.

When the Jesus greeted his disciples after he “returned from the dead,” he said “Peace Be Upon You” (John 20:26) or “As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum” – The Universal Greeting of the Righteous.

But the last thing your slavemaster wants for you is PEACE. Because the only way for you to enjoy Peace would be for you to leave him and his slavemaking religion and enjoy FREEDOM. So he offers you money, prestige, sex, drugs and whatnot to keep you his slave.

But after you get what you’ve always wanted, you find out that what you really wanted was PEACE.

So, GIVE THE DEVIL BACK HIS RELIGION and accept your own (ISLAM-THE RELIGION OF PEACE) and be yourself (A RIGHTEOUS MUSLIM)!

You can hear the premier of the Fonky Lowdown LIVE on http://jazz.org/live June 7 at 7 pm.

************************************

Now back to “My Romance…”

Unsuccess had borne desperation. So now I’m just trying to hear the song. Forget about W.

After a minor search, Ell seemed to be the favorite. So I listen. The intro was nice, but she came in like a four-year-old and I knew that wasn’t it.

So, I tried the next best – Sassy. And, she was just as bad.

I realized I needed to hear A MAN sing it.

But the computer gods knew better than to suggest Francis.

I have learned when things start to look hopeless, to just STOP.

Take a break.

Get a grip.

Pause.

So I went on Facebook for a while.

When I could not contain the urge any longer, I resumed my search and guess who I found???

JUNEBUG!!!

All I know about Junebug is that he used to be on telethons (LOL member those? I guess since now All television is viewer-sponsored, telethons are unnecessary 😒) and Tommy Davidson’s impersonations on In Living Colour. I also saw a recording of him dueting with the Queen, which he had personally requested and then did not want to submit to her musical superiority!

Men. And finally, and probably most poignantly, he was the only Black member of The Rat Pack. (Why anyone would want to be a member of a pack of RATS is beyond my comprehension. But that could explain why he was the only Black member.)

So anyway, it was diluted, but I FINALLY got my fix.

And then I was in a better condition to empathize with Marsalis.

I knew immediately after I finished listening to it why he didn’t play on that song, but included it on his album.

For the same reason I can’t sing “No One In The World” by Anita. Or even LISTEN to “Do You Remember Me?” by Jilly.

Too emotional. That’s what it boils down to. Dregs of living and loving. Good musicians (and this is one of the reasons why I want Hakim to play music instead of sports [never mind the spiritual opposition]) express themselves through music.

But sometimes the music expresses itself through you and you can’t play it because it takes over.

So I’m not angry anymore, W. I understand and pray Allah, one day you will be able to play it because I sure would like to hear you.

❤ ❤ ❤

Two Weeks

بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم الحمد لله

Trying to figure out

At what point

Within the last 2 weeks

Did I get so siddity.

I’m even MORE ALOOF now

Than I was a fortnight ago.

Let me think.

There was Mother’s Day.

But it was Wednesday before

I realized it had passed.

Must be the VA (and Homeless Resource Center).

They want me to beg.

And today is Memorial Day.

لله upgraded me to National S.C.

And now hanging out

Without

In the The Mess Hall

Is No Longer Appealing.

This is.

And OUR HOLY QUR’AN.

And Google.

And 🎼🎶🎧

Angel Names

بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم الحمد لله!!!

As Salaamu’ Alaikum Beloved Black Sisters and Brothers!

Just wanted to share something Our Saviour revealed to me…

Names that end in “el” are Holy Names in some language, probably Hebrew.

They are not as good and Holy as the most beautiful and Divine Names of Allah, which number ninety-nine and are all in Arabic (Halim, Hakim, Rahim, etc.), however.

But this is why members of The Moorish Science Temple of America add “El” to their names when they convert to Islam.

I am sure that the “el” has something to do with Allah too because the names that I know the meanings of, all have Allah’s name in them.

Some examples are Ezekiel (Allah strengthens), Emmanuel (Allah is with us) and Samuel (Allah Heard me).

My favorite is Nathaniel. Not sure what it means though. In Sha Allah, I’ll Google it when I get online.

A few others I can think of are Daniel, Michael, Gabriel, and Israel.

I think names that end in “iah” are the same. Maybe just in a different language. Like Jeremiah, Nehemiah, Hezekiah, &c.

Anyway, names are critical to our Salvation, Just thought I’d share a revelation.

Get you a Last Name of Allah and give the devil slavemaster back his name. It is the only way to be free of him.

As Salaamu’ Alaikum!

NEW ORLEANS TRICENTENNIAL

بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم الحمد لله!!!

As Salaamu’ Alaikum Dearly Beloved,

Here’s an article I submitted for publishing to a local newspaper.

They haven’t responded so I am going to publish it myself! It’s so lovely being independent!

NEW ORLEANS – THREE HUNDRED YEARS OF SLAVERY

New Orleans is what the slavemaster calls “The Deep South.”

It is where slaves farther North were threatened to be sold if they misbehaved. It is where slaves knew if here they ended up, they would very likely never see their relatives again.

Because New

Orleans is so far embedded in the Deep South – passage to “FREE STATES” farther North was much more difficult to attain.
What with “passes” from the white slavemaster or “free papers” being required lest one should be accosted by patrollers seeking a bounty on any Black person traveling throughout the slaveholding states.
A more viable option was to escape among the Red Indians who were driven from their homes by the Imperialistic white slavemaster colonists, and forced to eek out an existence in the marshes and swamps, loaded with alligators.
These people are known as “MAROONS.”
They are fiercely angry with this white slavemaster for all but annihilating them. The ones who were not killed were only spared so that the white slavemaster could point them out to his children as the people from whom “his” country was stolen. In other words, their lives were spared only to be ridiculed and mocked.
The decendents of these fugitive slaves who sought refuge with the Red Indians still mask; but try and find one who is indigenous.
New Orleans is a long way from where Emancipator, Harriet Tubman, organized the infamous and infallible UNDER GROUND RAIL ROAD to ferry former bondspeople to freedom.

She was from Maryland and only had as far to go as from there to Philadelphia to

reach liberation.

After the passage of the Fugitive Slave Act in 1850, which made it lawful to re-capture fugitive slaves who had successfully reached free states, and return them to bondage, it became necessary to travel all the way to Canada to ensure freedom. Making freedom for the Black slave in New Orleans an even much more distant and hardly attainable goal.
Slave traders in New Orleans had partnerships with their Northern Brethren to con free Blacks into false friendships so they could then deliver them up into the hands of their Southern slavetrading Brethren and into the merciless bounds of slavery in New Orleans – the deep South – miles away from their loved ones and the base of the slave trade for the entire gulf coast.
The Port of New Orleans is where many of our poor ancestors first set foot in the Western Hemisphere, where their children still today are blind to what it really means to be free.
Step outside the box and take a good look at THE BIG PICTURE. Every where you look you will still see slavery, only it is much worse today because now we are “free slaves.”
The white slavemaster no longer has to WHIP us into submission. We willingly allow him to rule over us. We prepare our resume and beg him to put chains on our hands and feet. This is due to the fact that although he says he freed us in 1863, the chains are still locked firmly around our minds.
This, coupled with the omission of the promised forty acres and a mule, left the majority of us still dependent on the slavemaster for the necessities of life.
We are still their servants – completely dependent on them to provide us with the basics. They still feed, clothe and shelter us. Just as they fed, clothed and sheltered our poor foreparents. We don’t produce anything for ourselves.

The white devil slavemasters brought us here solely to serve them and serve them we still are.

For instance, if you observe any major event in this cosmopolitan city, ninety-nine per cent of the employees are Black serving the ninety-nine per cent white people out enjoying themselves at the recreation.
From the man directing traffic to the man providing the entertainment, our lives are given for the benefit of the white slavemaster’s use.

The only way to end this perpetual cycle of slavery, is to think in terms of doing something for self.

The whiteman does not train and teach his children to go to school, graduate, go to college and get a “good job.”

That is slavery Teachings that he teaches our children. So they will forever have a slave.

His sons go to school with briefcases and dressed in suits to prepare them for the business world.

They are taught to get an education that will equip them with the knowledge that will enable them to start and own their own business.

He thinks LONG TERM. If he starts his own business, his family is set forever. No more begging the slavemaster for anything.

We must have something to start with. Therefore, if

you must get a job, only work with the object of mastering a skill or acquiring enough capital to open your own business. If you can do it for him, you can do it for yourself. Think like an entrepreneur. Otherwise,
His children will know that they forever have a slave because we continue the wretchedness of slavery by bringing our children in under their employment. Even our people with college degrees return and give the benefit of all their learning right back to the white slavemaster.
Yes, they receive higher salaries than their unlettered brethren but they are merely high paid servants for the white slavemaster. And, he is quite willing to pay a high price as long as he can keep you from leaving his service and going for yourself.
The LAST thing he wants to see is his once Black slave taking a free step away from him to earn his own living independently of him. No, because then he has lost that Blackman forever and that Blackman is on the way to becoming his former slavemaster’s equal. Owning his own and determining his own future and his progeny’s future is secure and free from slavery to the whiteman.
This Blackman is on the road for self and the Black people he employs will be able to go for self. They have freed not only themselves but their children and their children’s children and their employee’s children and so on and so on. Forever breaking the cycle of slavery that has thrived here in New Orleans for the last three hundred years.
This Trailblazing Blackman has become a shining star illuminating the path to freedom in deed for his fellow Black Brothers who are still mentally enslaved, just by exemplifying what we are capable of once we take advantage of the freedom to leave the slavemaster’s “plantations.”
The chains still keeping you bound to him are your (his) last names, your religion (Christianity) and FEAR.
For three hundred years in New Orleans, we have carried the white slavemaster’s luggage, we have driven him around and parked and retrieved his cars. We have prepared and served him his meals, we have waited on him at his tables, we have cleaned up after him, we have paid him to transport us to perform these services for him or paid him for spaces to park our cars, we have served him and his family as loyal slaves for generation after generation – for three centuries – Our families serving their families indefinitely.
Is it going to take another three hundred years for us to get up and put the rag mop down, put the horn down, put our dress down and start building something permanent so our future won’t be spent as invariable servants to the white slavemaster?
❤ Wadoodah ❤

M

Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim

New Orleans

French Quarter

Riverwalk Pavilion

Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim

Al Hamdulillah

Al Fatiha

Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever, married us.

And soon we have a baby girl and then another girl and then another boy.

They live happily ever after.

BOOKER T. WASHINGTON FIFTY CENT PIECE

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

BOOKER T WASHINGTON ON COIN

 

BTW-Half-Dollar

BOOKER T WASHINGTON COIN

PURCHASE THEM HERE.

HERE IS ONE WITH THE BRAINS BEHIND THE ORGANIZATION. 😉

washington_carver_half

 

BAKED SQUASH CASSEROLE

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

download

HOW TO EAT TO LIVE, BOOK TWO
Page 35
“YOUR BEST vegetables are: cauliflower, cabbages (not the green cabbages)… Some other vegetables we eat are as follows: Brussels sprouts, Asparagus, eggplant, okra, SQUASH and rhubarb.”

*You can read How To Eat To Live, Book Two in its entirety here.*

Baked Squash Casserole

INGREDIENTS

5-6 cooked SQUASH (any kind) or ZUCCHINI mashed

1 red onion coarsely chopped

2 cloves of garlic finely minced

4 tablespoons butter

1/2 cup Cream

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon Italian Seasoning

1 egg well beaten

1 cup grated Parmesan Cheese

DIRECTIONS

Preheat oven to 375 degrees

Combine all the ingredients, mixing thoroughly. Transfer to a small well-greased casserole dish, and bake in a moderate oven, 30-40 minutes, or until brown and bubbly.

Serves 4

MENTAL ILLNESS AND ISLAM

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim

In the Most Holy Name of Allah, 
Master Fard Muhammad,
The Beneficent, The Merciful

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beloved and Beautiful Black Sisters,

I realized a while ago that both of my favorite singers, Phyllis Hyman and Donny Hathaway each committed suicide after battling mental illness. This got me to thinking about my own life.

In about 1989, I attempted suicide. At the time, I thought I was just doing something to get attention, but now I see it could have been very serious. I took a bunch of pills and then decided I didn’t really want to die, so I told my parents and my father took me to the hospital. Then in 1996 I was diagnosed as Bi-Polar/Paranoid Schizophrenic. I was hospitalized and the doctors recommended that I take medication. I refused and continued having episodes.

I attempted suicide again in 1998 while having an episode. At the time I didn’t really consider it as attempting suicide. I sat on the edge of a balcony and leaned back. I thought I would ascend into the sky. I didn’t. If the ground beneath me were not a dirt hill, allowing me to roll instead of hitting the ground dead on, I might not be here to write this. All Praise is due to Allah.

I began seeing a well-respected doctor in the Black Community in 1999, however, I continued having episodes until I started taking medication regularly in 2004.

The medication allowed me to function without having “episodes” but there were still symptoms. I began hearing voices and I would feel paranoia if I stayed out of the house over three hours.

However, All Praise is Due to Allah. In 2006, I converted to Islam and My Life Changed Dramatically. I became completely independent. After a few years, I started mentioning to my Doctor that I wanted to get off the medication. And in 2012, I insisted that we start the process. My Doctor very willingly agreed and reduced my dosage.

I went through some stronger symptoms, but withstood my ground and they went away after a short while and I felt better than I had on the the higher dosage.

So, after a few more months, I told my Doctor that I had fewer symptoms on the lower dosage and asked him to lower the dosage again and he complied.

Again, I went through a few symptoms, but eventually they went away once my body became acclimated to the lowered dose. I felt much better and better able to function due to the lowered dosage and began to enjoy an almost complete elimination of any feelings of paranoia.

I told my Doctor this and he began to resist any continued lowering of my dosage. However, he eventually acquiesced and agreed to lower the dose, but when I went to pick up my prescription, there was some confusion.

I learned that my Doctor had changed the prescription back to the one I was taking prior to the second lowerage without informing me. When I confronted him about it, he began lying, fabricating stories about my progress or lack thereof. What he didn’t know was that I had already began cutting the previous dose in half and had been taking the lowered dose for months already.

I couldn’t believe he, a prestigious Black psychiatrist who had written several books on the African Origins of Psychiatry and who was a much sought-after lecturer on the subject, was playing with my head! I was livid and reported him to the Head of the clinic, asking for a new Doctor. She agreed.

When I met the new Doctor, she told me my previous Doctor had died and that the Head of the Clinic had resigned!

I was very satisfied and thankful to Allah for avenging me of my old Doctor’s hypocrisy. I told the new Doctor I was doing better since my previous Doctor began lowering my dosage. I told her that I didn’t start hearing voices until AFTER I started taking the medication and she was flabbergasted. She had never heard anything of the kind. However, she too, was reluctant to lower my dosage.

The only explanation I can conceive, considering my progress on the lowered dosage is that the doctors don’t want to lose their patients. It is a shame that the very ones who are supposed to help are only looking out for their own interests.

But Allah is sufficient and when I told her what dose I had been taking she told me that it was the same dose they give toddlers and it was hardly recognized by my system. That was the last time I went to the “Doctor”.

I have completely stopped taking the medication. I explained to the Doctors that now I understand that my “symptoms” were just a very sensitive awareness of Allah (God) and the spiritual things going on in the world that other people are not aware of. It used to scare me (paranoia). But now, I listen and obey. I take heed to the signs that other people miss and use them to guide me. I know it is My Saviour communicating to me.

Our Beloved Messenger, The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Forever Be Upon Him) taught us that Allah, Master Fard Muhammad, to Whom Praises Are Due Forever, spoke to Him through “hints” (signs). I understand completely.

I know it sounds crazy, but it is the reason for my joy. I obey the signs Allah shows around me and my life is one thousand per cent better. I can’t remember the last time I heard voices. And I no longer have to find a place to hide when I am out in an effort to try and escape the paranoia.

Our Beloved Brother Donny was also diagnosed with paranoid-schizophrenia and took his life by jumping (or falling) out of a window. And Sister Phyllis was diagnosed as bi-polar and committed suicide by ingesting pills.

“Islam is the only solution to the problem of the so-called Negroes,” so taught the Honorable Elijah Muhammad (PBUH).  I KNOW if Brother Donny and Sister Phyllis had accepted Islam, they would both still be alive today.

The similarities in my life to these two amazing singers is remarkable. I can understand what each of them went through because I went through it too. Brother Donny suffered from the paranoia that comes from living in The Time of Armageddon and being sensitive to the spiritual warfare that is going on that most people are not aware of.

If he had had Islam, he would have known that Allah, Master Fard Muhammad, to Whom Praise is Due Forever, is going to destroy the devils from the face of the Earth and he didn’t have ANYTHING  to fear. Because Allah is backing him up and He (Allah) Will Not be defeated.

The devils have a lot of ability in the supernatural realm, but not half as much as The Black Nation, because we are the First – The Originators. Everything the Devil Caucasians know of telepathy, they learned from us. But I won’t go into that, because I don’t think you will be able to go halfway with me.

Sister Phyllis needed to know that Allah is sufficient for fulfillment in life. If she knew that her purpose in life, just as every Black Person’s purpose in life, is to submit to the Will of Allah, then she would not have been looking for fulfillment in drugs, alcohol and men. Islam would have taught her her nature – submission to the Will of Allah. Everything Else Comes Secondary.

 

If I didn’t have Allah and Islam, I KNOW I would have committed suicide already. My love life looks so hopeless that ANY woman who does not have the Knowledge of Self would have taken her own life by now. But I know Allah, Master Fard Muhammad, to Whom Praise is Due Forever, is backing me up and even if I NEVER realize the fulfillment of my ONE TRUE LOVE, I will die a happy woman, knowing that I lived to please Allah. And submitted to His Plan for my life. My Prayer, My Sacrifice, My Life and My Death are all for Allah. I put my life completely in His Loving Arms and I have no fear nor grief.

Islam removes fear and grief from the Believer. Islam would have removed fear (paranoia) from Brother Donny and the grief of being unfulfilled from Sister Phyllis. I bear witness.

I also sing and play the piano.

Al Hamdulillah!