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Stop Donating Your Life-Force to Barking Dogs: The Heavy Stride of Ujima

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Stop Donating Your Life-Force to Barking Dogs: The Heavy Stride of Ujima Every minute you spend typing out an angry paragraph to prove an internet troll, a jealous coworker, or a bitter spectator wrong, you are committing spiritual treason against your own destiny. You claim you want power, sovereignty, and nation-building results, but you move with the nervous reactivity of a stray dog. The moment someone snaps at your heels, you drop your tools, throw your hands up, and start barking right back. Across East and Central Africa, the elders left a proverb that cuts through this modern fragility like a razor: “The barking of a dog does not stop the elephant from walking.” ( Mbwa akibweka haizuii tembo kutembea ). An elephant doesn't hold an emergency meeting because a mangrel is yapping at its ankles. It doesn't break its stride. It moves with deliberate mass and ancient memory because it has an entire migration to lead, a calf to protect, and deep water to find. Barking is the ...

Final GoodBye III- Writing for Healing

His Story is Mine

His story is mines,
Better yet my story is his,
For now I can no longer deal with what was,
Now I have to deal with what is.
A great tree has fallen in the forest of life,
A tree that provided shade for many and a shelter from strife.
But this is not the end of his tory for his story is mine,
And his story will live through his bloodline for all time.
His story is not over because his story is mine, and I need for his loved ones to read between the lines.
Although his body is gone his spirit is strong, that explains why through the pain and confusion he lived so long.
Fear not because his story is not over because his story is mine,
He has made it to peace and he rest with the divine
We are the seeds and saplings grafted from his tree and now he can rest in comfort for his story can be told by we.
His story is not over, because his story belongs to me
For I am a proud branch on his family tree, I will always remember those that came before, those that struggled like no people before.
Like Miles Brown and the lady known as Ms. Ann their stories will live because it was passed to my hands
Like Herman Brown and Rosa lee
Like Geneva and Herman brown the second, and Cleven Brown now can peacefully join their essence
Although his body has now been returned to the earth
His story and their story has been cemented  in  time by Cleven Miles Brown's birth.
His story his mine, his story is ours, his story is ours.
Now tell it.......

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