Welcome back lovelies! To another No Whining Wednesday, the only day of the week where you do not get to whine, criticize, or complain for a 24hour period. If you are new to this blog or new to this segment, please visit the first post HEREto understand what this is all about.
Today’s inspiration is Will Smith’s Instagram video. It has been making its way around social media and for good reason. We live in a world dominated by social media and for this, it’s important to remember that everybody who LIKES you don’t “Like” you. In fact, I am willing to bet that many of us have people on our Facebook “friends” list who are not our friends and people who like our every post but will not reach out in real life. People who say they support you but have never bought a book or left a review or just helped you to promote your work. This goes far beyond writing, this is about life. Who we surround ourselves with has a lot to do with the person we eventually become. This is how important associations are. If the people around you are not encouraging you, lifting you up, inspiring you, correcting you, helping you, etc, why are they around you? Why are we allowing people who do nothing for us to have so much access to us?
It is important not to get emotional about it. I am just going to discuss the facts. Let’s just be real for one second here people. If they won’t even show you that the Egyptians were a BLACK SKINNED people, why would anyone admit the Israelites were black? (Who were often mistaken as Egyptians…also Israel is in Northeast Africa by the way.)
I am sure we’ve all heard it by now. It’s all over social media. In the midst of Black History Month The Today’s Show decided to showcase an image of a white Nefertiti. Not only am I not surprised, but I think maybe we (so-called Black people) deserve it. Maybe this is what it takes for us to wake up and stay woke. Maybe these are the kinds of shockers that is necessary for us to realize the truth. You don’t have to know much about history to know that the Egyptians were a black skinned people. “Egypt is in Africa, not some small island in Sweden.” (Paul Mooney)
The word Ham in Hebrew is Khwam, and it means “hot, burnt, and black.” The first-born son of Ham, Cush, forms the Kushite nation. They were also called and known as the ancient Ethiopians. Ethiopia comes from the Greek word, Aethipos, which means, “burnt or black face.” The Greeks applied this name to the people living south of Egypt. The name Egypt comes from the word Aegyptus though the Egyptians called themselves Khemet / Kemet, which is a variation of the Hebrew word Khawm (Ham). It means, “People of the black land.”
Gerald Massey, English writer and author of the book, Egypt the Light of the World, wrote, “The dignity is so ancient that the insignia of the Pharaoh evidently belonged to the time when Egyptians wore nothing but the girdle of the Negro” (p. 251)
Sir Richard Francis Burton, a 19th century English explorer, writer, and linguist in 1883 wrote to Gerald Massey, “You are quite right about the ‘AFRICAN’ origin of the Egyptians. I have 100 human skulls to prove it.”
Scientist, R. T. Prittchett, states in his book, The Natural History of Man, “In their complex and many of the complexions and in physical peculiarities the Egyptians were an ‘AFRICAN’ race” (p. 124-125).
The ancient Greek historian, Herodotus, who visited Egypt in the 5th century B.C.E., saw the Egyptians face to face and described them as black-skinned with woolly hair.
Anthropologist, Count Constatin de Volney (1727-1820), spoke about the Egyptians that produced the Pharaohs. He later paid tribute to Herodotus’ discovery when he said:
“The ancient Egyptians were true Negroes of the same type as all native born Africans. That being so, we can see how their blood, mixed for several centuries with that of the Romans and Greeks, must have lost the intensity of its original color, while retaining nonetheless the imprint of its original mold. We can even state as a general principle that the face (referring to The Sphinx) is a kind of monument able, in many cases, to attest to or shed light on historical evidence on the origins of the people.”
Volney also stated:
“What a subject for meditation. Just think that the race of black men today, our slaves and the object of our scorn, is the very race to which we owe our arts, science, and even the use of our speech.”
Egypt: Ham’s second born son < Blood brothers to the Ethiopians
Ethiopian > Burnt Face
Egypt > Burnt Black
Phut: The Somalians – According to the ancient record of Egypt, Phut has been traced back to the Somalian
“Every man has flesh and blood, which includes a skin tone, but the Israelites and Egyptians were black, I’m just making it known.”
“Alright, girl, here’s another one. This here from Caroline down the road”, said Pearl.
Molly rolled her eyes, “Alright, put it on the table.”
“Whew, child. You mind if I oblige myself to this here sofa? All this running around, can’t be healthy.” Pearl heaved in and out as she sat down, lighting a cigarette. She closed her eyes, savoring the nicotine in her throat before releasing it into the air.
Molly chuckled, “Did you just say running can’t be healthy?”
Pearl cut her eyes at Molly, smiled, and answered by taking another long pull from the cigarette. Pearl was a big girl, and proud of it. She had a plump backside, wide hips, thick legs, and big breasts. So is the make-up of all the Tate’s.
“Girl, you know I can’t be losing no weight. Charles will have a fit. Have me walking around here looking all sick like y’all skinny heifers,” said Pearl as Molly laughed.
“I’m serious. Shoot, the bigger the berry, the sweeter the juice.”
“No you didn’t!” laughed Molly. Pearl joined in. She cracked herself up.
Molly glanced over the table, almost completely covered with German Chocolate cake, sweet potato pies, greens, macaroni and cheese, yams, baked beans; you name it, it was here.
“She’s not dead, you know,” Molly spoke from nowhere.
“All of this support. It’s like everyone’s acting like this is some kinda repass. Like my daughter is dead or something.”
Pearl let the cigarette die out in the ashtray. Whatever kinda buzz she had, Molly just blew it.
“They just tryna be supportive is all. You know how country folk are. Your child is their child. The men folk are out looking and the women folk are at home cooking. That’s how it is.”
“They will find her.”
Pearl shrugged, “Humph, I know they will. Got the dogs, NAACP and everything else. They better find her.”
“I mean alive. They’re going to find her alive. I can feel her, Pearl.” Molly thought about the last time she saw her very own mother that night on the porch, cold and tired. She wondered for a moment if that’s how Nora felt right now: alone, cold, and tired. Molly wanted to feed her. To give her all this food that was made for her.
Pearl sat back on the sofa, Here we go again. She wasn’t entirely honest with Molly, but everyone wore the same consensus on their hearts. There was a strong possibility they were not going to find Nora alive. No one wanted to give her credit because she talked too much. Miss Irene talked entirely too much and spoke with an unfiltered tongue, but what she said was true. Children in 1922 Mississippi didn’t just run away.
First, no one would let them. Besides their parents, there were just too many eyes watching, which is what makes it hard to believe no one saw anything. This was the South and you had not one parent or two, you had forty, fifty, and sixty. The whole colored community. People looked out for each other and someone, somewhere was always watching.
Still, she didn’t know how to break the news to her friend that she should prepare her heart for the unthinkable. Besides, she had her Marie to think about and she didn’t know what she’d do if something happened to her. If there was one thing her parents taught her, it was putting yourself in other people’s shoes. “That the onliest way to sympathize wit ‘em,” her father would say. “You gotta be able to feel where they been, where they walked, and then you can help ‘em ‘cause you knows. You knows in your heart what they been through and where they is.”
“She gone be alright, Molly. She gone be alright.”
Pearl lit her cigarette again, leaned back on the sofa, looked at the table, and prayed her words were true
Grab your copy of Renaissance today. Part two is on its way!