HAUSA Tale of FRIENDSHIP

DARK Beauty. Ethereal. Veronika Castrillo by Eva Corbella Photography

Compelling. Kate Barry, the red list!

Story of a great friendship and how it was put to the test



This story is about some young men who were friends.

Some boys made a covenant of friendship; they lived together, (and) were inseparable. They had their maidens in an outlying village. Always they used to go together (and) bring them. On one occasion, one of his friends did not go, so only one went to bring the maidens. When he went, he brought back the maids.

(As) they were going along, they met a lion; and it knocked down and lay on one of the girls, but he, he drew his sword and cut at the lion's head. The lion died, and he found the maiden was not dead. And he told her to lie down beneath the lion along with him, and one of them was to go and tell his friend.

So she consented, (and) ran off (and) found he has begun to sleep. She roused him, (and) he said, 'Where are So-and-so and So-and-so?' And she said, 'They are out there, a lion has killed them.' And he rose up, he did not take anything with him, he went along and came and reached (where) the lion was; it was above them.

He did not hesitate, but sprang and climbed on the lion. He thought it was alive. Truly it was dead. Then his friend rose up and said, 'Rise, So-and-so, you have proved yourself (a free-born) man.' So they lifted up the maiden (and) went home.
Now among them who was better than another?
If you do not know, there it is.

Off with the rat's head.



Hausa Folk-Lore
Maalam Shaihua, translated by R. Sutherland Rattray

photos by Kővágó Nagy Imre

THE WHITE MAN

THE WHITE MAN AND SNAKE


A white man, it is said, met Snake upon whom a large stone had fallen and covered her so that she could not rise. The White Man lifted the stone off Snake, but when he had done so, she wanted to bite him.

The White Man said, " Stop! let us both go first to some wise people."

They went to Hyena, and the White Man asked him, "Is it right that Snake should want to bite me, when I helped her as she lay under a stone and could not rise?"

Hyena (who thought he would get his share of the White Man's body) said, "If you were bitten what would it matter?" Then Snake wanted to bite him, but the White Man said again, "Wait a little, and let us go to other wise people, that I may hear whether this is right."

They went and met Jackal.

The White Man said to Jackal, "Is it right for Snake to want to bite me, when I lifted up the stone which lay upon her?" Jackal replied, "I do not believe that Snake could be covered by a stone so she could not rise. Unless I saw it with my two eyes, I would not believe it. Therefore, come let us go and see the place where you say it happened whether it can be true."

They went, and arrived at the place where it had happened.

Jackal said, "Snake, lie down, and let thyself be covered." Snake did so, and the White Man covered her with the stone; but although she exerted herself very much, she could not rise. Then the White Man wanted again to release Snake, but Jackal interfered, and said, "Do not lift the stone. She wanted to bite you, therefore she may rise by herself."

Then they both went away and left Snake under the stone. 


Story from unknown tribe. 

Funny to me how indigenous peoples picked up the scent of white people's spirit upon contact, or soon after. It is the way 'we' have talked about white people to our children and each other that informed us about the narrowness of their vision.

"You gotta train white people in the way they should go!" I've heard all my life, one way or another.


Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories
12/30/17

Native History. Myths And Legends

Melanin, its place in Life.

Mold clay into a bowl. The empty space makes it useful.
[Tao Te Ching chapter 11]

Juno Brown by Ola Carlvik said, 'Destiny is belligerent.' Oct. 27, 2013.

Just playing!

Gaye McDonald

"The melanin's power is enviable from the perspective of those born without it, whose pineal glands are calcified at birth! Those full in their understanding of this power are capable of the extraordinary. How do you think the processes came to the Egyptian people in the long ago that formed their architecture, sciences, healing modalities and so on?" - Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories 12/4/17

Another look at Africa

Africa continent shaped by flow of Gaye McDonald's gown.

African American woman's reaction to her return to the States.

BLACKS THOUGHT HIGH OF THEMSELVES

A Black woman, Neisseria Gunn Arrears, posted a sentiment about a segment of Black thought. When first I read this I had an initial response. I said, "It is common, but it is hard on the ears hearing women using gruff language, but the point was well made. Neisseria Gunn Arrears grinds down into the core of a dysfunctional dream, and a hope held for centuries by African slaves."

Neisseria Gunn Arrears‎

Later reading the comments from mostly younger Black people I hit upon the missing in their thinking. One of the things younger people don't seem to understand, or appreciate in depth is why Black Americans reminded themselves of the eras of African civilizations. There is a deep emotional history that incredibly has fallen outside of their grasp. In this forum it is pointless to talk about it because the technologies that bring that information out is as present now as it was 40 and 80 years ago, and despite that the depth of this aspect of the Black experience evades their embrace.

Blacks had to think high of themselves even though there are holes in the probability of being a King or a Queen. Sadly, there are today more 'queens' in the Black community that don't and cannot inspire the deep pride a real Queen of a people would.  There should be more intellectual and spiritual recoil against the queens of our communities passing themselves off as authentic. Their inconsistencies are apparent and damaging, and worse they are allowed to pass themselves off as men.

I know the element of royalty, and the presence of a King's spirit and a Queen's spirit is behind the declarations of being a King and a Queen. It has been important to self-esteem. But, if that is no longer important to Black people of this generation what do you have that is better to offer and to be? What will you bring to the development and advancement of your people? Diatribes and sharp analysis of your preceding generations are important to the task of carrying on legacies but so is the work, and the unlearning so necessary to the struggle.

- Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 6.22.14

FRIENDS

Friendship of Tortoise and Eagle - African

It was not often that the tortoise and the eagle met, for the one spent his days in the clouds and the other in the under-a-bush. However, when the eagle heard what a warm-hearted little fellow the tortoise was, he went to pay a call on him. 

The tortoise family showed such pleasure in his company and fed him so lavishly that the eagle returned again and again, while every time as he flew away he laughed, "Ha, ha! I can enjoy the hospitality of the tortoise on the ground but he can never reach my eyrie in the tree-top!" 

The eagle's frequent visits, his selfishness and ingratitude became the talk of the forest animals. The eagle and the frog were never on speaking terms; for the eagle was accustomed to swooping down to carry a frog home for supper. 

So the frog called from the stream bank, "Friend tortoise, give me beans and I will give you wisdom." 

After enjoying the bowl of beans the frog said, "Friend tortoise, the eagle is abusing your kindness, for after every visit he flies away laughing, 'Ha ha! I can enjoy the hospitality of the tortoise on the ground but he can never enjoy mine, for my eyrie is in the tree-tops.' Next time the eagle visits you, say, 'Give me a gourd, and I will send food to your wife and children too'." 

The eagle brought a gourd, enjoyed a feast, and as he left he called back, "I will call later for the present for my wife." 

The eagle flew away laughing to himself as usual, "Ha ha! I have enjoyed the tortoise's food, but he can never come to my eyrie to taste of mine." 

The frog arrived and said, "Now, tortoise, get into the gourd. Your wife will cover you over with fresh food and the eagle will carry you to his home in the treetops." 

Presently the eagle returned. The tortoise's wife told him, "My husband is away but he left this gourd filled with food for your family." 

The eagle flew away with the gourd, little suspecting that the tortoise was inside. The tortoise could hear every word as he laughed, "Ha! ha! I share the tortoise's food but he can never visit my eyrie to share mine." 

As the gourd was emptied out onto the eagle's eyrie the tortoise crawled from it and said, "Friend eagle, you have so often visited my home that I thought it would be nice to enjoy the hospitality of yours." 

The eagle was furious. "I will peck the flesh from your bones," he said. But he only hurt his beak against the tortoise's hard back. ~ from a Central African tribe

AFRICAN TALES: the price paid

tattooed babe in a chair was all he saw and the only words out her mouth devalued what could have been the gold of her soul. Without the tutelage of soul and spirit a boy would never see the woman if he was taught about sex through the practice of gang rape. It is a troubling kind of mentality that reeks within the bodies of many young Black and Hispanic men across the United States. It is an ingrained process in many neighborhoods. It isn't mentioned in polite and wealthy circles, or the upper, or middle class neighborhoods. It should because many of the better educated families are losing the mentality of their sons to this notion of women as objects; as pussy for the taking.

Oblivious to the touch of opulence, and arrogance is the history of a people who have struggled to reshape family as an African people. But the centuries have not been kind, or favorable, or had merciful understanding of what was created within the souls of Black People fighting for survival and dignity. For complex reasons the 21st century is playing out a frightening story in African-American communities and Native American and Hispanic communities across the country. At the core of the dramas acting out in homes and on streets and in prisons the loss of the ability to ground one's self into the spiritual tradition of their ancestors through acts of terror fled the consciousness of the generation.

There are profound ways to shift consciousness, but there are employed actors in the game of terror that have effectively shut down the creative and magical process in children that makes adult mentorship programs too hard to assimilate into the culture of pain, and denial, and fear, and loss. There are words, powerful words that can shift direction and awaken the creative abilities to undo, to unlearn the craftsmanship of dying, and Death, but after thirty some years of attack upon the minds of colored peoples the words of say an Albert Einstein (1879-1955) are too abstract for a common mind to grasp.

Einstein said, "Time and space are modes by which we think and not conditions in which we live."

There is a lot in there. There is a path to freedom in those words, but people holding on to their tragedies can't hear the deeper teachings that lead out and away from the crudeness. It is hard, and I understand. I also understand that should a Messiah come he would be automatically minimized by the nature of belief that dominates and oppresses the minds of the oppressed.

These are my words. I am Gregory E. Woods a Keeper of Stories.
8.30.13

Dreadlocked beauty of a Fierce woman is a reminder of the heritage, the strong lineage of holy people, mothers, warriors, inventors, strategists, fighters, fathers, philosophers, our ancestral knowledge, the artistic traditions of the soul of the various tribes we came from, and the genius of the spirit of who  we are and who we were as a People. Who we will become is the product of our thoughts, the depth and meaning of our intent, the breath of our ancestors, and our definitions of power, where we stand, and how we envision the futures. It is through our loins in the solitude of turmoil and the relieve of quieter times we can speak to our grandchildren's children.

This has always been our way of surviving, and living in the depth of the moments we have.

 - Alowan Chanteh Inyan Wichasha
8.3.13

tattooed bodies of 2 Black women with big assess was all he talked about. Graham never spoke of them by their names. "They was his bitches!" he claimed.

Little Mike was 12. Only twelve and he looked up to Graham without balanced questions. That was the shame of it and that was the end of it for Don. Don was a quiet man who lived by himself near where all the action took place in this part of South Chicago. He worked as a plummer on the Saturdays his dad needed help, but most of his money was made working for the city government, and his side jobs as a photographer. It was the photography gig that got him involved with Mark and Mike.

Don had taken some pictures of a fight near Mr. Lee's restaurant that sold handsomely to a couple of publications. But, during the development process of his film he noticed the two boys and the delight in their eyes watching Graham brutally beat a woman in front of her children. That stirred Don into rage and later action. He took time to find out about the two boys. Got to know some of their family members, and tried to build a friendship with the boys. It was too hard. Little Mike loved the street life, and was suspicious of Don's intention. He was afraid of him. Thought he was a fag of some sort. It was this perception of Mike's that got Don on Graham's target list. He didn't like what fags had done in his family.

That was two years before Mike shot Don in the head and was initiated into the gang that later turned him out when he tried to defend the life of a woman who used to baby sit him. The gang thought he was soft, and didn't, as they repeatedly said, "Didn't give a fuck!" about the woman. To them she had pussy to be taken, and everyone knew she had no Old Man, and no gang claimed her. She was a working stiff trying to make a living and get out duh 'hood. That's what Rodriquez said after his turn in her.

That was the comment that released Little Mike's rage, and got him shot in the head by his boys. That was the shot that rang out with the truth the neighborhood taught him to scorn and ignore. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 8.30.13

"We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets." 

- Marilyn Monroe

Adriana Lima, international model

August 26, 2013

Cameron 5 

"There is always hope of redemption!! With breath there is Life. Within Life there is hope to remember and reclaim!" - Dawn Wolf, Keeper of the Drum

Teresa Ware Moody & her husband in church!!!!

Taraji P. Henson in a sequined pink & leopard Basler gown with plunging neckline is amongst the best of our best. Our best is not good enough until our best is not the exception. - Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories 

a Yoruba Tribal Tradition

How Tribal Marks Came To Be Used – Yoruba


A certain king named Sango sent two slaves to a distant country on an important mission.

In due course they returned, and he found that one slave had achieved successfully what he had been sent to do, while the other had accomplished nothing. The King therefore rewarded the first with high honours, and commanded the second to receive a 122 razor cuts all over his body.

This was a severe punishment, but when the scars healed, they gave to the slave a very remarkable appearance, which greatly took the fancy of the King’s wives.

Sango therefore decided that cuts should in future be given, not as punishment, but as a sign of royalty, and he placed himself at once in the hands of the markers. However, he could only bear 2 cuts, and so from that day two cuts on the arm have been the sign of royalty, and various other cuts came to be the marks of different tribes.

Yoruba Legends ,M. I. Ogumefu, B.A.,[London, 1929]

Flag around Lisa Ann

Maitrieya Sandess dancing in the sunlight!

I CELEBRATE MY INNER ABILITY TO DEFINE MYSELF


The word "individuality" means un-dividedness from the whole-God. As individuals, we are reminded that we are inter-connected and inter-related. We are all expressions of the Most High Creator. With unique gifts and talents, we are equipped to celebrate the indivisible power and presence within us. Life is forever unfolding. The more we honor who we are, as well as the stories of others, the more we create a beloved community where all are fed, loved, and appreciated.

There is power in our oneness. When we serve from a space and place of oneness, everyone is empowered. As we celebrate our individuality, we draw all men and women unto us, creating a space for them to step into who they really are.

I am a divine idea of God. I embrace all my gifts and talents and joyfully share them with enthusiasm. As I celebrate myself and recognize the magnificence of others, I celebrate those who came before me and those yet to be born. I stand firm in my truth. I see God in my brothers and sisters. Together we are stronger. I commit wholeheartedly and with joy and thanksgiving to the reason I was created. Thank you, Understanding- in me, through me, as me, around me, through the Christ within. And so it is.

The Lord God is my strength, for he has made my feet like hinds' feet, and made me stand on my high places that I may sing his praise. Habakkuk 3:19


Daily Thoughts from the Hill
Copyright: Hillside International Truth Center, Inc.
Dr. Barbara L. King - Founder Minister/World Spiritual Leader




Porn-Stars Hub

Lisa Ann wrapped in American flag
October 9, 2013 

"Being an American citizen requires a lot of thought. On Independence Day the African and the American Indian within me are more sensitive to what it took to become a citizen of the United States of America!" - Alowan Chanteh Inyan Wichasha 7.4.14

Isn't She Lovely?

Black African slave woman's history embedded in her body.

Marilyn Monroe as I've never seen her before. 

Michelle Pfeiffer's gallery


Michelle and her family

Black Black Woman sweating.

Michelle Pfeiffer bunched up her black gown and strolled down the beach the waves licking at her feet.

Michelle 'Sujai' Harvey in white & blue dress and black stockings!!!!

Affirming Beauty in the African Stories

Anais Zanotti 

When Dr. John Henrik Clarke said, "The African Man is the greatest fighting machine God ever created!" he was speaking into the past about our past. His words are now a memorial to a glory and a fact now in the bygone, in our collective pasts. The African today is not the same. Africa isn't the the same Africa I traveled and lived in a few decades ago. Today African's fighting spirit has created a culture where Africans fight each other in business, politics, and regard the white man as a God. Africans on the continent are increasingly bleaching their skins, and many African women are looking as much like a white woman as chemically possible. Too many Africans living in the United States harbor lofty views about Black Americans whites taught them, and the two communities (Africans and Black Americans) are not bed partners in terms of business. One cannot trust the other for the contempt the other feels for the host brethren.

In daily life the tone of late great African thinkers and historians are not capturing the life struggles and changes amongst descendants of the great African fighters. This a dangerously broad subject predictably seldom discussed between Africans from the continent and Black Americans from the US. Not intelligently dealt with the Africans who come to the United States to live or become citizens will find their lives and destinies intertwined with the historic realities and struggles Black Americans face daily, and struggle to overcome to become whole. Here, in the good ol' US of A by the second generation African children will have to make choices of identity their ancestors will not necessarily agree with, or to just to survive as African Americans!

Ubuntu. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 1.9.14

jada fire's classic beauty is dark and alluring. It and the stories behind what Black Americans look like is contradictory in nature and desperate in the struggle to become whole. - Dawn Wolf

Against our materialism Ubuntu

 Ubuntu, and similar practices and philosophies are being relearned as the sting of missionary work wears off. The missionaries were repulsed by views like this expressed in the worlds they explored over the centuries of European conquests. I remember these things as I help my people and other people remember their ancestors, and re-adjust themselves in their quest to keep their sanity, and not kill themselves ... Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories 12.25.13

TERROR OF PETA & JESUS

http://www.inkedshop.com/be-kind-to-animals-or-i-ll-kill-you-unisex-hoodie-by-the-t-shirt-whore.html 

This logo, "Be kind to animals or I'll kill you!" is the spirit of PETA and their ancestors. This is the spirit of reform that has spearheaded terrible violence, bullying, and forced Native people into Christians, and reservation life, and forced Africans into African Americans, Afro-Carribeans, etc. who are forever in flux trying to identify themselves and find a place. With the life of Nelson Mandela to study and implement into strategies there is a way to stand and create change in this world without being like PETA. - Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories 12.6.13

Friendship of Tortoise and Eagle

It was not often that the tortoise and the eagle met, for the one spent his days in the clouds and the other in the under-a-bush. However, when the eagle heard what a warm-hearted little fellow the tortoise was, he went to pay a call on him. 

The tortoise family showed such pleasure in his company and fed him so lavishly that the eagle returned again and again, while every time as he flew away he laughed, "Ha, ha! I can enjoy the hospitality of the tortoise on the ground but he can never reach my eyrie in the tree-top!" 

The eagle's frequent visits, his selfishness and ingratitude became the talk of the forest animals. The eagle and the frog were never on speaking terms; for the eagle was accustomed to swooping down to carry a frog home for supper. 

So the frog called from the stream bank, "Friend tortoise, give me beans and I will give you wisdom." 

After enjoying the bowl of beans the frog said, "Friend tortoise, the eagle is abusing your kindness, for after every visit he flies away laughing, 'Ha ha! I can enjoy the hospitality of the tortoise on the ground but he can never enjoy mine, for my eyrie is in the tree-tops.' Next time the eagle visits you, say, 'Give me a gourd, and I will send food to your wife and children too'." 

The eagle brought a gourd, enjoyed a feast, and as he left he called back, "I will call later for the present for my wife." 

The eagle flew away laughing to himself as usual, "Ha ha! I have enjoyed the tortoise's food, but he can never come to my eyrie to taste of mine." 

The frog arrived and said, "Now, tortoise, get into the gourd. Your wife will cover you over with fresh food and the eagle will carry you to his home in the treetops." 

Presently the eagle returned. The tortoise's wife told him, "My husband is away but he left this gourd filled with food for your family." 

The eagle flew away with the gourd, little suspecting that the tortoise was inside. The tortoise could hear every word as he laughed, "Ha! ha! I share the tortoise's food but he can never visit my eyrie to share mine." 

As the gourd was emptied out onto the eagle's eyrie the tortoise crawled from it and said, "Friend eagle, you have so often visited my home that I thought it would be nice to enjoy the hospitality of yours." 

The eagle was furious. "I will peck the flesh from your bones," he said. But he only hurt his beak against the tortoise's hard back. – from a Central African tribe

US across the Ocean

For thousands of years before the whites traveled to the Americas Africans were on the ocean visiting and trading with the People in the Americas. This is our story; our African story. 

AFRICAN WISDOM: The fact is the truth

ideal African masculinity & femininity 

This is an Ashanti Folktale About Shared Wisdom called:

"Anansi Tries To Steal All The Wisdom In The World"

A long time ago, Anansi the spider, had all the wisdom in the world stored in a huge pot. Nyame, the sky god, had given it to him. Anansi had been instructed to share it with everyone.

Every day, Anansi looked in the pot, and learned different things. The pot was full of wonderful ideas and skills.

Anansi greedily thought, "I will not share the treasure of knowledge with everyone. I will keep all the wisdom for myself."

So, Anansi decided to hide the wisdom on top of a tall tree. He took some vines and made some strong string and tied it firmly around the pot, leaving one end free. He then tied the loose end around his waist so that the pot hung in front or him.

He then started to climb the tree. He struggled as he climbed because the pot of wisdom kept getting in his way, bumping against his tummy.

Anansi's son watched in fascination as his father struggled up the tree. Finally, Anansi's son told him "If you tie the pot to your back, it will be easier to cling to the tree and climb."

Anansi tied the pot to his back instead, and continued to climb the tree, with much more ease than before.

When Anansi got to the top of the tree, he became angry. "A young one with some common sense knows more than I, and I have the pot of wisdom!"

In anger, Anansi threw down the pot of wisdom. The pot broke, and pieces of wisdom flew in every direction. People found the bits scattered everywhere, and if they wanted to, they could take some home to their families and friends.

That is why to this day, no one person has ALL the world's wisdom. People everywhere share small pieces of it whenever they exchange ideas.

Anansi playing...

In the African Diaspora each group of Africans scattered throughout the world by European countries there are major problems. In the United States I've found the words for a core crisis.

"The immaturity level and the minimal depth of knowledge and awareness here is lauded as being hip, and as an indication of being "Black" whatever that is. For a forum about Black News and Discussions I gather it is a replica of ghetto street corner diatribes void of insights, and wise contributions to the social conditions and mindsets of a People.
Is that all? Is that all that is important to young Black Americans? That is pretty much the perception in most parts of the world, in particular Africa. Within this typical lack of depth there seems to be much rejoicing amongst young Black Americans of the late 20th century until now. Beyond what I've said there isn't too much to say to the segment of society gloating in what they don't know, can't perceive, and love about not being a part of. 
These are my words. I am Dawn Wolf, Keeper of Stories." 

ghetto woman in colorful bikini

Pimps were never kings. They were short-lived fuses with a lot of color and a penchant for flair, and deceit. Pimps had their glory days during the historical period of neo-slavery, and as it is today the unimaginative, and short sighted deemed them important.

For a long time the financially well off in those Jim Crow days were educated and employed in a profession the whites allowed, the business owners operating business the whites permitted in the Colored communities, blue collar workers, pastors of the Church, and a tiny segment of the underworld of criminals. There are plenty of stories about how fine pimps were in their clothes and cars, but the fact is the truth: pimps brought no value of substance to the community. Only men could think of pimps as models in the early 20th century and today. These men are not, and were not evolved men. They were and are predators.

So, the praise lauded upon these lower level men (pimps) is unwarranted. Their praise is a telling story of their contempt for women, what their essence was meant to be, and what should live as a vibrant source of energy between women's legs. These men and their hero worship is based upon a deep contempt for the women who birthed them and the women they can lure, manipulate and keep separate from their true souls, their personal and precious truths.

That may be a bit much for the men flocking around corners flashing gang signs, and claiming ownership on property they'll never own, or have any real power over. That may be too much to digest for women who believe, as an older woman told me from her aunts mouth to her ears as a girl, "A wet pussy and an empty pocket book don't go together!"

In the street vernacular pimps ain't shit is what I've said.

These are my words.

Ghetto woman naked covering herself