Boycotts, protests, towns burned to the ground. Hundreds of deaths, and hundreds of thousands displaced. Separatists, militia, and journalists impinged by an authoritarian presidency. The struggle for power in Cameroon is one of majority and minority, French-speaking and English. President Biya’s 38th year in office is marked by another year of infighting prompted by the marginalization of the English-speaking population …
“At the time too, I was contemplating what justice could mean. Right? And not even just justice, honestly, it was what kindness meant on a deeper level, it was what patience meant on a deeper level. It was the beginning of me understanding forgiveness and how it heals you more than it heals the other person.
Because national trauma is hardly discussed in the context of its effects on diasporans, we often experience a dissonance between the distress we feel as we watch our motherland bleed, and the unspoken message that we should not be as affected because we are far away from home. The lack of validation and under recognition of the impact of national trauma on the wellbeing and mental health of members of the diaspora is a huge disservice and quite frankly harmful.”
We talk to Kabaka about the ideas behind his music, and how he uncovered an alternate curriculum of consciousness
A celebration of the food we love. The food that reminds us of home and awakens our senses of nostalgia.
I love ganja, herb, marijuana, cannabis, weed, trees… whatever name the plant goes by in your world. I love everything about it. The colour, the smell, the taste, the texture, what it represents, how useful it is in the world, how it makes me feel, the ceremonious way I encounter it within Rastafari, the space that it brings me to. …
All the curry from her fingers rush into my nose. She was the peppers under her skin, and light as basil. All of her flowed into me as my nose swallowed the scents from her scarf. Her voice summons me to the places in between what is true, and what is possible. The living room became an auditorium, an arena, …
Yoruba is a language that exists entirely in the realm of my grandmother’s house, and here, in this church, where it is mine and ours, where I finally feel like a part of something.
The rich aunt touched by Marzel: Elegant and beautiful. Foreshadowing a season of drought in my life – she makes it rain ! Bless her heart !