Africa Fashion Week NY 2010

mmmmmh! am not much into fashion weeks or fashion shows or fashion fundi and whatnot
so i am not in the know or the buzz of how it works or who is how
but this def caught mah attention
cos i believe now there is the london africa fashion week taking place right now as we type
is all about showcasing african designers and all that jazz
so as i am checking out these videos I am like mmmmmmmh interesting
the people wearing those designs
they are not your typical string bean super skinny pale models
one is used to seeing on the catwalks, nah nah nah
these are your everyday people killing it on the runway in NY
the more i watch the more mmmmmmh i go
i cud not stop mmmmmmmmhing, i watched almost all the vids, waiting to catch them out
but no sir, this is the real deal, the real african swagga
this is Africa Fashion Week in NY done in the Africa Way

oh and another thing that i found veeeery interesting was
there is  this one design, a shirt actually, with the face of  President Obama
well, that is soooooooo African...

mad props to the designers, heads up to the producer and organisers
they really did it, i applaud them, that was brave and bold

but what i find curious is the the afro blogging world aint said shit about this
I mean with all the blogs dedicated to Africa by Africans mostly in the diaspora
and how they whine about how tired they are about the negative images
that the west is showing about africa
you would fink that this would mek them shout out with joy
especially since it was conceptualised and executed by a fellow african sistah and team
and what about dem african-americans who always have issues
with lighter skins getting more attention
here is something to celebrate and they are no where to be found shouting with joy
or maybe i missed out...
these are the things that mek me go
mmmmmmh mmh!
in ya dis ya time

Hamba Kahle MaSisulu - Albertina Nontsikelelo Sisulu

I grew up in Orlando West
on the corner of Sisulu Street and Pela Street

Mah granny's house was just opposite the clinic on the main road
so we would witness a lot of victims of police brutality [mostly bullets, dog bites and sjambok]
coming in and out of the clinic
and a lot of yutes would run for cover into our home to hide from the police
ma granny wud act so nonchalantly, let them, or rather help them hide, while the police came searching
i was a likkle kid then [back in the early eighties]
and i'd be playing on mah own while granny busy with the house hold chores
would be keepin an eye on  me
mah granny would either ignore dem police while searching the house lookin fo the yute
they would bully and harass mah granny but she would not burge
sumtimes she wud tell dem dat he'd jumped over the fence and continued
or she wud jus ignore dem until dem ah gone
then she wud let the yute out, i wud get him sum water, and  granny wud talk to him fo a while
try to find out if he was from the area and what his story was
if granny saw or sensed fire in the yute
she would eventually send him off to MaSisulu [Albertina Sisulu]


MaSisulu wud definately have an advise for the yute or sort him out in one way or the other
We all knew that. We all turned to MaSisulu for help/comfort/advise/spiritual guidance/assurance and everything else.
MaSisulu was like a mythical womam to me as i was growing up
I had never seen her live-in-action, even though i lived not far from her house
Just like her husband, her name was known and revered
you just never used her name like that in vain
when her name popped up, then yu kno the shit has hit the fan, its serious stuff
a lot of yutes used to disappear in those days
especially boys. they wud either go into exile by crossing the border into Swaziland or Botswana
or Lord knows where. or they wud be in police custody, or for the unlucky mothers, they would have already met their maker, and in most cases, they wud just disappear from the face of the earth
as a kid, i wud see the faces of the distressed mothers searching for their yutes
and they wud  be asked if they had been to see MaSisulu, or they wud come so
that mah granny wud accompany them to the Sisulu household
I had always revered MaSisulu, no words can truly describe what she had done for the Nation
and especially for the community she resided in
She and a group of other women opposed the Bantu education
and they started some sort of home schooling system
I am a product of those schools that operated outside of the Bantu education shitstem
even though our school was run by a church, [and survived till today, while others had to shut down]
still it was MaSisulu and others who set them into motion

she was already a mythical figure to me as i was growing up

even later in years, long after apartheid had been abolished, i would always 

have a certain kinda sensation running down mah back at the mention of her name

It was her daughter in-law who helped to de-mythisise and immortalise her for me
After reading: Walter and Albertina Sisulu: In Our lifetime
written by Elenor Sisulu, wife of Max Sisulu, eldest son of the Sisulus
I got to understand sum of the things that eluded me when I was a little gal
some pieces fell into place and the bigger picture was solidified
I understood the visuals, the images, phrases
embedded in me from mah childhood daze
I overstood then why mah granny used to send those boys off to MaSisulu
when i was a likkle gal, it was just protocol, it was the thing to do
to go to MaSisulu for help and advise and what not
I always had a hero, a mythical hero for that
and i did not just invent her, she was real, and her deeds were real, not cooked up
she was only mythical because i thought her to be
yet she was real, and did stuff that can only be described as myths
I am happy she lived to be 92 and see the fruits of her labour
and that she passed on in the company of her grandchildren

Downtown Johannesburg a statue of the Sisulus

she done gone joined her lovin husband in the land of the ancestors
I weep not for her, for I know that she will be recounting tales from the land of livin to her husband Walter Sisulu, as she had always done while Tata Sisulu was in prisonshe always kept him up to date, especially on the developement of their children so i imagine them now, sipping tea together and MaSisulu recounting her last days on earth to Tata Sisulu
they would be in good company too
Oliver Tambo Steve Biko Samora Machel Joe Slovo Chris Hani
Brother Malcom and Brother Gil Scott-Heron would also be there and many more
Hamba Kahle MaSisulu
May your soul rest
May your light continue to shine
May the ancestors give you a divine welcome
In ya dis ya time
All Africa dot com, has got a tight summary of the life and times of MaSisulu. check it here.

Street Dancing

I thought this was beautifully executed
I like the rawness of it the creativity of it all and most of all the simplicity
those are fine moves displayin raw talent and free expression
Its like Krumping in slow motion
and krumping is all about releasing cramped up emotions
but unlike krumping which is fast and furious
this is more like story telling, acting out the emotions
in ya dis ya time y'all

Remembering Funk

For as far back as i rememba

me always organized mah music in biographical order

The stages in my life’s trajectory

Those memorable events that shaped us into who we are today and going forwards

Those never to happen again but never to be forgotten

Those life shaping moments

I particularly rememba mah groove soul funk period

The seventies funk the cheek and sleek of it all!

t’was Graem aka Boeta G pon the decks who was making us groove and gyrate

Back in cape town otherwise known as Kaap Staad 

at a place call 206 with a red chillie sign hanging there

Down in the basement and up pon the roof top

upstairs we usually skanked to some reggae beats

while downstairs would usually be funk hip hop jungle drum n’ bass

Live bands dj sets afro funk seventies funk cape town funk

Muslim gals foreign blondes local dreadies and dem gugulethu rude bwoys

Everybodi and anybodi,  burning down the house at 206

Dub master China was in the running of tings even then

and the Fong Kong Bantu Sound System was still not conceived even then

and Moodphase 5ive was still an underground band/outfit then

and DJ Ntone had not started Chimurenga then

he was heavily rotating in the dj circles

and he would hit us with his own special blend of funkadelic afro souol funk

of days gone by  long side Boeta G 

t’was about grooving t’was all about blending

Tings times space moment

They happen they don  happen

They become memories trajectories

To be encountered and perhaps retold

For what is man without his story…

A wombman for iver lives out her story

In ya dis ya time

Ramblings...

Bin doin a lot of readin dis here daze
but i also bin doin a lot or writin too
except that i bin puttin pen on paper rather
than typin away on the computer
its a totally different vyb..that is typin vs writin
tho is the same thing is got a different feel to it
whe yu type you easily and quickly erase and start over [backspace]
yet wehn yu write yu can cancel but not necessarily erase
so the thot stays and it lingers and at times yu expand on it or continue with it
but this new high teck thats simplifies everyting and forcibly hurries us thru life
yu end up hurrying up yo thots and erasing them and doin all sorts of funny things with them
whereas when yu put pen on paper, yu get to relax a bit and ponder a bit
yeah i like writing the ol fashioned way
i even still write letters to peeps and especially mah moms
who hasn't caught on to this high teck world and she neva will and i enjoy her fo that
i jot down thots and ideas and quotes and ramblings and sightings and events and dates and things to do...
yeah i still like scribbling away on any piece of paper tht i lay mah hands on
and i also enjoy re-reading them after a long while
and also, when yu is writing, yo head is facin downwards
so dem thots can spill and spiral down your arm until they get to your fingers
and they come out thru dem fingers and flow on to the paper via the pen
when yu is typin yo head is facin fowards and seem to be detached from your being
and attached to that screen, almost as if the thots come out from the screen an not from within you
but as i hav always maintained
tis the thot that counts
so whicheverway it comes out
is better than keepin it in
in ya dis ya time

Block

sista

i am havin a  block
i cyaan seem to get beyond one sentence
then i cancel and start all over again
then i confuse thoughts with reality
i hav got too many drafts now
it is impossible to finish them
they are now only good for the bin
but even that i cannot bring mesef to do
so i start reading a lot
and thinking a lot
thinking about writing
writing in me head
head full of meanderings
meanderings leading to nowhere
nowhere is everywhere
everywhere i look
looks to be disappearing into a mirage
a marriage of thoughts
thoughts provoked thoughts

it looks like the thoughts have spilled over
and caused the block to crumble
into a whisper
i am now listening to the whisper
it like likkle wind puffs caressing me face
i close me eyes and let me mind wonder off again
and slowly by slowly the block manifests itself again
and this time it is thick and thicker than thou
and i feels helpless and helpless
and it is this helplessness that mek me want to
break down the walls that block
but i think i banged me head too much
i shud rest lest i get a headache

if you do not understand any of this
worry not for i me sef do not
yet i feel the itch to scribe
scribble something to someone
as the saying humbly reminds us:
'the life that we live is the story that will remain'
i like to recount tales from our lives
even empty scribbles like these fill our lives (and our mailboxes!)
what is it that they said about thoughts
ah yes,
tis the thought that counts

in ya dis ya time y'all

The mo tings change the mo dem stay da same

In ya dis ya time y'all

dis n dat

i got this friend
is interesting how him talk
him always manages to say/state what day is it
always all the time fo evry topic argument discussion joke or whatever
for example,
me seh: wha ah yu doing tomoro
him seh: tomoro...eeeh...tomoro is tuesday
or
him seh: gal wha ah yu doing tomoro, tomoro is sunday
or
me seh: dem say is gonna snow tomoro
him seh: tomoro? tomoro is friday
or
me seh: what did you do las nite
him seh: las nite? last nite was thursday...

and so it goes......

is so funny cos everytime afta talkin to him
me know exactly wha day it is or is gonna be or has been
the past the present the future
in ya dis ya time y'all