To my sisters I call this

I want to be naked to you
Open, honest and available to you
Pure in intention
No skeletons with you
New born love child, I want to be
Innocent with you, purity
Sinless with you
No layers, just me, just you
No judgement
Just wisdom, just truth
The luxury of reliving my youth
Day one
Can I be reborn with you.
Before the fabrication
Before the stories, before the lies
I want to be with you, who I was in the skies.
-Kai Sa'Rah

I never thought I would connect meaningfully with African American sisters.

Kai Sa'Rah

Much of the beef between Africans and African Americans, in my circle of friends involves African American women. Sisters were hardly accessible to me, even though I never ever had any conflicts with them.
I had tried repeatedly, to connect with them during the early days of my freshman year at Michigan State. I would join their tables, in Case Hall cafe: "excuse me, is there anyone sitting here?" and plonk down as soon as anyone of them signaled in the affirmative, perhaps more so to keep in line with anti-discrimination rules rather than preference.

It hardly ever was worth the trouble. After reluctant salutations, the conversation at the table would continue as if I wasn't even there. I can't imagine what's worse.

Brothers saw me though. Brothers saw my body. I wasn't invisible to them, at least.

I d.e.f.i.n.i.t.e.l.y saw brothers.

Case Hall, my hall, was the hall that accommodated the Spartan football team. Lord have mercy.
Matter of fact, there was this one footballer,a delicious brother, half African American, half Belizean, with whom I had got quite chatty. Chatty enough that he was in my room one time with his shirt off showing me his tattoos.

Lord have mercy.

Haaaaaa!

Sisters that I could call sisters, have been few and far between...until Detroit.

Sheheriana

Tonight, for instance, I just had an absolutely amazing time, at an impromptu cook-out and dinner with Akashi, Kai ( both of whom are sisters, and have been visiting with us for a couple of weeks) and some new friends, Kemet and Sheheriana.

Kemet

It was the intensity of the energy, the sincerity and sisterhood, this evening, as we bared ourselves to each other, that compelled me to reflect on black sisterhood in America, and the latent conflict that exists between sisters from murikah, and those fresh off the boat.

I don't even know if I have the energy to do justice to the evening that was.

Between the vegan/raw-food chef Akashi's sensually massaged, delicious red cabbage salad, the nori and fresh collard leaf rolls, sauteed onions, mushrooms, broccoli and zucchini we had a feast!

We were in the kitchen prophesying great futures, liberated futures, and rebuking deferred dreams.





Sheheriana explained that her intention was to create space for communion and engagement: in kitchens, in homes, through interpersonal contact and exchanges and through other artistic and literary mediums.


 Startled, I shared that I had just updated my online profile, reflecting my own intention or mission, and it read just about the same!

My beloved sister, Akashi Journi

Kemet also happens to be planning her own get-away, a get-away from Detroit for her own transition and rejuvenation, incentives which have been at the core of my intended journey South to Texas and Nawlins.

We are on such similar journeys, and we were all ready. We are all ready. Ready to claim our right to live our dreams. We are doing it already, Kemet pointed out, that my kitchen, and home had become that space, where we were converging energy, love and sisterhood.

I met Akashi one night on a bus from East Lansing to Detroit, as I came back home from a hectic day of my senior capstone classes and, of course, expressing breast milk on a tight clock for my baby boony Ominira.


Madamest was adorned in beautiful ankara, lavish Africana jewellery and had lay a selection of crystals and herbs on the stowaway tray, which we would share.

I had to say hello.

"Who are you?"

It has been wonderful to have know Akashi and to have had the opportunity to host her and her (our) dear friend Kai.


They leave for Atlanta next Wednesday, and head on to Jamaica, for much of the same thing, really. Winter is drab. The sun brings abundance, healing and revitalization.

Head south if you can!


So many stories to share.
So little time.
But kidogo kidogo hujaza kibaba.

Ashei.