I need, I don't just want

I need to make music.
I need to partake in the process.
To bathe in discordant chords..
To get lost.

I listen to music.
And I am like,
I need to do that.
I need  to be in that work.

I don't want.

I need.

Music is so powerful.
So intense.

Texture.
Depth.

I can feel it in the soles of my feet.
And in the nape of my neck.

The vibrations.
The sensations.

I can feel everything.
In that moment.

I am enlightened.

Unburdened.

I need.I don't just want.

show me who you are, we are alone now...

This is my America

I am about to make a film.
A big ol badass revolutionary film.

But I am not a filmmaker.

I am a person who loves, lives for, spaces where people are vibing hard. Great conversations. Talking about hawt n spicy stuff. Spaces where ideologies are flipped on their heads. Where people break into sweat. Where teeth are ground and bared.

I am here to create such spaces.
I been here for that.

Detroit.

Building from the bottom in Detroit.

This is my America.

Where everyone around me is grappling with one of the most brutal evils of our time: the systematic disenfranchisement of working class folk by the institutions and means of capitalism.

This is my America.

Where I quiver to be walking down the streets of Grosse Pointe after dark with my husband, because  I now understand, and I can feel that we are not wanted there.

This is my America.

Where I am angry, disappointed and untrusting of the guild of whiteness. Where I am no longer shielded by the appeal of Africanah exoticism, and I am no longer inclined to wave my Kenyan passport, or smile at white auntys' fascination of my eloquence and civilized dimeanor.

This is my America.

Where poverty is masked by credit debt, big houses, big cars, endless work days and deep dissatisfaction.

life here ain’t no crystal stair.
It has tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.


This is my America.

Spirits bawl in these broke down homes,

Death.

Agony.

Why aren't we wailing?

Have you walked around these sides?

Detroit?

Stripping down

all that love made in our homes,

all that love-

great conversations caught in walls,

stories,

journeys.

cousins thrown out in the streets,

because of them financial piranhas and thieves,

because of a game we can never win.

because of chasing this here American Dream.


No glitz and glam hereabouts.

Not in this my America.


Ahh.

Aaaahhhhh.

He saw my name and greeted me,

Ba wo ni,  Àlàáfíà ni
And no kidding,

I heard
Atieno, Idhi nade
Uber driver, yesterday.
He had spoken to me in Yoruba, and I heard him speak in Dholuo.

What?

Picking me and Ominira from Grosse Pointe too.

What is this?

Abeg,

America.

Sé dáadáa ni.

I am packing for just one night

Below is a segment of transcript from a CBC radio show I was listening to yesterday [ my 25th Bday]:

 In 2006, the Heat wasn't supposed to get into the finals. Even though they had Shaquille O'Neal, they were overshadowed by many more powerful teams. But under Riley's insightful coaching, they made it to the championship.
The Heat were playing the Dallas Mavericks for the NBA title, and were ahead three games to two, and only had to win one more. But the last two games were scheduled to be played in Dallas, the Mavericks' home court.
Statistically, the team with home-court advantage wins three out of every four series in the playoffs.
And the Heat's handicap would be most intense in the seventh game. If they lost the sixth, winning the seventh game in an enemy stadium would be almost impossible.
But Riley felt certain his team could beat the Mavericks as long as they were convinced they could. He had to make his players believe they could win the championship in game six.
Because he didn't want them having to play that dangerous seventh game in the Maverick's house.
So... how did he motivate his players to win game six?
He simply told the team the whole story of their upcoming victory in a single line:
He told everyone to pack for just one night.
Not two. Just one small overnight bag.
That simple line telegraphed Riley's intention that there was not going to be a seventh game.
That his team wouldn't need a second change of clothes because they were coming home the night of the sixth game as NBA World Champions.
He told it. They felt it.And they did it.

I am packing for just one night too.
That is my resolution.
I have been working towards this resolution for a while now.

25 years old.
There has been a lot of life lived.
So much and yet at this instant, it feels like nothing.
All that is tangible is the here and now.
Bittersweet.

If I hit the jackpot, well and good.
If I don't, die trying.

No more room for can't.
Not when I am alive.

One bag.

This is it.

Am bringing you with me,
If you will.

Ashei.