Don't settle for less - even the genius asks-es questions
Be grateful for blessings
Don't ever change, keep your essence
The power is in the people and politics we address
Always do your best, don't let the pressure make you panic
And when you get stranded
And things don't go the way you planned it
Dreamin of riches, in a position of makin a difference
Politicians and hypocrites, they don't wanna listen-Me against the world

He came and left at a young age,he touched millions of people around the world.Tupac's music was often criticized for its violence and anger yet that anger and frustration is a botched up feeling that millions of urban and poor people suppress.I am because of you! Remember that take this young mans words and recycle it and see how it still applies til this day R.I.P Tupac

http://bit.ly/SNx5R Musica for free



Qalazive http://bit.ly/YjQIg (free Track)



jbux http://bit.ly/3HWpr (I salute YOU)

Proverbs 3:3

3 Let love and faithfulness never leave you;
bind them around your neck,
write them on the tablet of your heart

The man that cant be moved! hmmmmmmmmm sounds like me.When best my words are spoken it's through a artist that hits straight to my heart,my mind and my soul.Each entry into this journal is like taking a step alongside Rushay Booysen if you find yourself sinking into quicksand be strong hold on every passage will be reached if you set your heart on it!The days when there was no electronic journals when there was no thought of blogging i sat silently and sewed my thoughts on a piece of paper, that was many miles ago and i kept the door to that book locked.My ear became tuned to the streets and sounds and words became my reality.This blog became my reality as of late as im able to share with you the tattered pieces of a fragmented mind that seeks to impose and decode the modern day Morse code,as a alienated race called humans we so often make new bonds and sometimes that bonds get broken.The beauty in all of this is that life is so unpredictable and just when you thought you reached dead end along comes a smile that lightens the room.





maybe ill get famous for the man who cant be moved
and maybe you wont mean to but you'll see me on the news
and you'd come running to the corner!

I am a music junkie im skinny cos the majority of my time is spent devouring sweet,thick sounds that feeds my mind,recently i stumbled upon Nneka might only be recently cos i do not spend my time listening to the airwaves.I am a digger i dig and search like a new aged Christopher Columbus.My aim to defrost those captured minds that looks at history and only see the negative aspect that is presented to us,minds that are conditioned by someone else's ideal and agenda!i had to change my mindset from that of a oppressed mind,oppressed minds still think in terms of devid,still think in terms of a cause for a particular group.I like to view global i like to think in confine's of individual's and selfishness,later on it would be transferred to groups and collectives but for now i think its important to search for that truth that makes sense to me.I so often find myself amongst people that speak about them who are they? nobody seems to be able to tell me who this THEM are!So im sharing with you Nneka this song speaks so much truth.

U keep pushing the blame on our colonial fathers
U say they came and they took all we had pocessed
They have to take the abuse that they have caused our present state with their intruding history
Use our goodness and nourishment in the Name of missionary
Lied to us,blinded slaved us,misplaced us,strengthen us,hardened us then
they replaced us now we got to learn from pain
Now it is up to us to gain some recognition
If we stopp blaming we could get a better condition
Wake up world!!
Wake up and stop sleeping
Wake up africa!!
Wake up and stop blaming
Open ur eyes!!
Stand up and rise
Road block oh life penalty

Why do we want to remain where we started
And how long do we want to stop ourselves from thinking
We should learn from experience that what we are here for this existence
But now we decide to use the same hatred to oppress our own brothers
It is so comfortable to say racism is the cause
but this time it is the same colour chasing and biting us
Knowledge and selfishness that they gave to us,this is what we use to abuse us
Wake up world!!
Wake up and stop sleeping
Wake up africa!!
Wake up and stop blaming
Open ur eyes!!
Stand up and rise
Road block oh life penalty

Those who have ears let them hear
Brothers who are not brainwashed takt ruins and rest
Pick them up and stick them back together
This is the only way we can change this african weather
Lied to us,blinded slaved us,misplaced us,strengthen us,hardened us then
they replaced us now we got to learn from pain

Wake up world!!
Wake up and stop sleeping
Wake up africa!!
Wake up and stop blaming
Open ur eyes!!
Stand up and rise
Road block oh life penalty

you got to wake up please
youuuuu got tooo
(wake up africa wake up and stop blaming)
blaming ha ha ha
open yours eyes your eyes
stand up and riise
road block oh life penalty
wake up...

Jitsvinger has been blazing the airwaves brandishing his style of afrikaans hip hop.Me and some students just had a interesting discussion regarding afrikaans and its place in South African society.What i find so often is that history gave a misplaced journal of the language we are so often reminded of Soweto and the rise against the education of afrikaans.I think not many people know about the rise of the language in a community that was raised with it and that made it uniquely South African,a slave language that was transformed and recycled as it occurred in several colonized states around the world ala south america/carribean etc etc. so i bring to u Jitsvinger

Happy Mama's day to all the ladies,amazing woman that took time out to birth us alienated humans.I find myself in a world where male domination seems to be at a constant apex not losing any balance on this scale we call life.So this post is basically dedicated to a woman out of Zimbabwe .Every woman is special out there so Men learn to respect your woman.

"So sometimes in life when you suspect the absolute worst thing, God sends you an angel."-Jenni Williams

http://www.mg.co.za/article/2009-05-10-the-woman-who-took-on-mugabe

article courtesy of Mail and Guardian

Of all the terrible things that have happened to Jenni Williams over the past six years -- and there have been many -- there is one incident that stands out from the rest.

It was October 2008. She had been arrested by Zimbabwean police after taking part in a peaceful protest outside a government complex. The marchers were asking for food aid, in a population where three-quarters of the population is starving under Robert Mugabe's oppressive regime. Bundled into a police van, Williams and a colleague were taken to prison and denied bail.

She was in jail for three weeks. On one "particularly bad day" Williams recalls being forced by the guards to sit for hours in the burning sunshine. "I am of light skin, they knew I was going to get very badly sunburnt, and we were just made to sit there for some form of punishment," she says. "And when we tried to object, they started accusing myself and my colleague of being lesbians because she had been beaten and I was rubbing her back.

"So it was a very bad day, and our lawyer had not been able to come to give us any update on our appeal process and I just thought: I don't know how we're going to get through this."

At 47, Jenni Williams has experienced more brutality than most of us will face in a lifetime. She is the founder of the underground activist movement Women of Zimbabwe Arise (Woza), an organisation that, since 2003, has been mobilising Zimbabwean women to demonstrate in defence of their political, economic and social rights. In a fragmented country where women are marginalised by patriarchy, downtrodden by severe financial hardship (official inflation runs at 7 000%) and weakened by the acute lack of food or clothing for themselves and their children, Williams faces an almost insurmountable daily struggle simply to keep going.

Under Mugabe's dictatorship, the threat of state-sanctioned violence is ever-present. Despite being a movement dedicated to peaceful protest, Woza's 70 000 members are routinely arrested, beaten and intimidated.

As an outspoken critic of the current Zimbabwean regime, Williams is one of the most troublesome thorns in Mugabe's side. In a region where anti-government protesters have an uncomfortable habit of disappearing or turning up dead, her day-to-day existence is hazardous: although her main residence is in Bulawayo, south-west Zimbabwe, she moves in and out of safe houses and never stays more than six months in one place. She has been arrested 33 times.

Once she was abducted by police for 24 hours and driven 45km outside the city to an unknown destination. "They were telling me they were going to murder me and bury me and no one would ever know," says Williams. "Luckily for me, we ended up in a police station and some of the police officers were very sympathetic. There was no food there but one of those police officers came and whispered into the window of our cell: 'I'm bringing you food from your house. I know you are hungry.' So sometimes in life when you suspect the absolute worst thing, God sends you an angel."

She says, when I ask her if she ever loses hope in humanity, that this is her answer: finding goodness where you least expect it. Even at her lowest point in that prison yard, forced to sit for hours in the sunshine, her skin burning and her spirits shattered, something happened to salvage her hopes and keep her going. "My colleagues came and told me that Barack Obama had won and was going to be the next president of America and it was -- " She breaks off, then emits a loud squeal of delight: "YES! And that made the pain not so bad."
In person, Jenni Williams looks as strong as she sounds. She has a broad face, substantial shoulders and thick, powerful arms. Her hair is braided in tight plaits that snake across her skull. She is mixed race -- her mechanic father, who was absent for most of her upbringing, was black. Her mother Margaret is the daughter of an IRA man who emigrated to what was then Rhodesia from County Armagh. He became a gold prospector and married a local woman from the Matabele tribe.

Williams readily admits that dissidence runs in the family: "It's an incredible mix of this Irish and this Matabelean nation, which is a fighting nation. My grandmother was once arrested during the early 80s because the Mugabe regime said she had arms caches. That's the melting pot that I come from."

At first the combination of her looks and her history can make Williams seem a slightly forbidding presence, but as soon as you talk to her you realise that she has an internal composure that gives her a tender, almost maternal quality. She comes across as a protector rather than an aggressor. When she talks, it is in a bubbling stream of flat Zimbabwean vowels spliced with laughter. She smiles a lot.

We meet on one of her infrequent visits to the UK -- she is deliberately vague about her movements in case the Zimbabwean authorities attempt to stop her, but she has the backing of Amnesty International and this time has been able to move around relatively freely.

"We [Woza] get scared like anyone else," she says. "But I think what gives us the commitment to continue to do the things we do is that we speak 100% the truth, and we speak it from the moral authority that we are the mothers of the nation, and if your mother cannot speak out on your behalf then you have no one that will speak for you. So that is why we are committed to doing this: because we want a better future for our children."

The horrible irony for Williams is that being the mother of a troubled nation means she finds it increasingly difficult to be the mother of her own family. Her husband Michael, an electrician, and her three adult children -- one daughter, Natalie (28) from her first marriage, and two sons, Christopher (24) and Richard (22) -- all live in the UK. It would be too dangerous for them to stay in Zimbabwe.

When Woza organised its first Valentine's Day march in 2003 (14 February, with its connotations of love and understanding, is a crucial date for the organisation, which promotes strategic nonviolence), Christopher, then 18, was arrested for handing out roses. Although the Zimbabwean Constitution grants the right to peaceful protest, the authorities argue that it cannot be carried out in the streets without prior notification.

"I couldn't do anything," says Williams now, twisting her hands on the table in front of her. "It was just deeply frustrating for me to be a mother and see that my child had now gotten arrested for something that I was doing, and I was helpless. And so with Christopher's arrest, my mother-in-law [who lives in the UK] got a little bit worried and said: 'Look, please can we have the kids?'

"Also, because of my activism there were threats that they would be taken and put in the youth militia, where they train these kids to be violent, so I had no other option but to allow my two sons, who were still living in the house, to come and be in the UK. My daughter is much older; she had already left home.

"It's not easy for me to live apart from them. But we are very, very busy leading this organisation. I already work 14 to 15-hour days. There's no way right now I can be a mother to my children because I'm too occupied being a mother to the nation."

Does she feel guilty about the choice she has made, about placing the political over the personal? "No, I don't because I know and they know and we all understand and discuss these issues and they know why we're doing it. So it's not a matter of guilt. I miss them terribly. I miss my husband terribly. But I know it's for them I'm doing it, and they know that, too."

Much of her life has been spent taking care of other people -- at the age of 16 she dropped out of school to help her single mother care for her six siblings. And, like the Woza members, 70% of whom have not completed secondary education, she has experienced at first hand the vicious hardships of a Zimbabwean upbringing: in 1994, her eldest brother died of HIV/Aids, and because of her mixed heritage she has experienced racism from both sides of the ethnic divide.

"In some ways, my blood has been too black to be beautiful," she says sadly. "In other ways, my skin has been too white to be right. And yeah, it's been a problem ... My first marriage failed because, at the wedding ceremony, my ex-husband's mother and father arrived at the wedding and the reality that I was mixed race hit them when they saw my mother and they saw my brothers, who are much darker than me, and they just couldn't take it and they left the ceremony. They hounded my husband with all this stuff about the son of Ham and all this racist rhetoric, and: 'You're going to have black children' and our marriage failed as a result of that.

"And now under Mugabe, quite often police officers who do not know me, who do not know my background, will make all sorts of racist [anti-white] comments to me and so I've also had that ... So it hasn't been easy."

But perhaps it was this sense of never quite belonging, of having to prove herself in the face of adversity, that gave Williams the sheer single-mindedness she has needed to pursue what she believes is right in a land where the idea of justice is, at best, illusory. "Seeing my mother want something better for me and seeing her sacrifices [as] a single mother raising seven children -- it motivated me a lot ... It was her as a role model and the fact I had seen so much discrimination that made me want to become a human rights defender."

In what she refers to as "my previous life", Williams ran her own public relations company. From 1994 to 2002 the business was so successful that it won a sizeable contract to do all the communications for the Zimbabwean Farmers' Union. This brought Williams directly into conflict with the government -- Mugabe's controversial policy of land reform enables white farmers to be forced off their properties in order to "redistribute" wealth. "It was very hot and heavy and I was under threat," says Williams. "The police kept visiting the offices. It was just impossible. It ended up losing me my company." Enraged by the injustice of what happened, Williams became politically active. A year later, Woza was formed.

Its grassroots members, many of whom come to the organisation from church groups, are the ordinary women of Zimbabwe who would otherwise remain voiceless -- the seamstresses, the vegetable sellers and hairdressers. Williams leads regular street demonstrations, during which the protesters sing gospel songs and carry brooms, embodying their desire to sweep the government clean. It is a terrifying process: "Sometimes when we are singing, we are extremely discordant because, you know, your mouth is dry, you're scared and you're watching out the whole time for the police."

Dispiritingly, Williams says that there has been no noticeable improvement in conditions since the power-sharing agreement brokered in September between Mugabe and Morgan Tsvangirai, the leader of the opposition. "We had huge expectations that it would have ... but we have not noticed any change. In fact, in some ways we can say the pressure on us has increased because post the signing of this deal, I then found myself back in prison. And after having made bail -- and it was a huge legal battle -- we then found that we were restricted to a 40km radius, and that has never happened before.

"Since Morgan Tsvangirai was sworn in, there is more food on the shelves, but our members certainly cannot afford to buy that food. There's 94% unemployment, and the 6% that's left over probably cannot even afford to pay for their bus transport into work.

"Our members, what are they going to do? They can't afford the school fees. They're desperate for their children to get educated. The decision is: do I feed this child right now or do I buy chalk so they can go to school? And that's a horrible choice that parents are being forced to make in Zimbabwe. So daily life is just horrific."

In prison, conditions are even worse. "It's a living nightmare," says Williams. "It's a death sentence." At mealtimes food is so scarce that the portions are measured out in teaspoons. After Williams's three-week incarceration last October, a female prisoner begged her to leave behind her underwear. "They said: 'We have not seen a pair of panties for two or three years while we've been in prison.' And, I mean, someone can be stripped of their dignity, but if you're a woman you really want to be able to have a pair of panties -- it's something basic."

She has a vivid memory of being taken to a men's prison and seeing hundreds of skeletal inmates in the courtyard. "These were men who were -- what's the word -- you can't say crouching because that implies a bigger body space -- people were so thin that they looked like spiders, when they close themselves up and you can't see any limbs. They were like ghosts: rows and rows of ghosts."

Although she would never admit to it, it is clear that the prospect of being sent back there fills Williams with dread. The trial relating to her October arrest on charges of disturbing the peace is still ongoing -- at the time of going to press, Williams and her co-leader Magodonga Mahlangu were due to appear in front of the Bulawayo magistrate's court on 30 April.

Meanwhile, the daily struggle continues. Williams refuses to dwell on the negative, and perhaps this is a necessary technique of self-preservation: how else would she be able to carry on fighting, with such good-humoured courage and tenacity, in the face of such intimidation and danger?

Before she leaves, I tell her that I know no one who possesses the necessary strength to do what she does. "I know lots!" she shrieks happily, shrugging herself into a huge padded black coat. "I know all the Woza members. We are constantly arrested, hundreds of us, and we make each other strong, defend our rights and help each other cope. So I am in extremely good company."

She zips up her coat and gives me a warm hug. Then she walks away, back to fight the battles that no one else dares to face

A night of music,poetry,dub and splendor,each journey with every artist i come in contact with makes my own journey much smoother.I bring to you a night with Linton Kwesi Johnson,enjoy!

"duped
doped
demoralised
dizzied
dozed
traumatized

blinded by resplendent lite of love
dazzled by di firmament of freedom
im couldn deteck deceit
all wen it kick im in im teet
im couldn cry khorupshon
an believe inna man
im nevvah know bout cleek
im did umble an meek
im nevvah know intrigue
im nevvah inna dat deh league
im nevvah andahstan
dat on di road to sawshalism
yu could buck-up nepotism
im wife dangerous
im bredda tretchero
an im kozn very vicious"