Power Hungry

Power Hungry
Cut off the Power, we hungry
Because Forty-Five
Can not fortify the nation.

Power Hungry
Cut off the power, we hungry
Three Water wells
Dry out our knowledge well.

Power Hungry,
Cut off the Power, we hungry
Factories foreign
Our name forge in.

Power Hungry
Cut off the power, we hungry
Buenos médicos imported
Puo no… dearly departed

Power Hungry
Cut off the Power, we hungry
New Mercedes-Benz
Our mercy dies, or bends

The  Power Hungry
Cut off the power, we’re hungry

Tunesday – 340ml: Moodswings

I LOVE 340ml,  I want to be their friends

Tambem posso falar em Portuguese, então si eles querem, a gente pode convesar!

I know as a FACT if I were in South Africa, Baby Phoofs (me) would be stalker #1

For those who don’t know who 340ml is, 4 men from Mozambique (Pedro – Singer, Rui – Bassist, Paulo – Drums, Tiago – Guitar) who make beautiful music!

(Rui, I will reply to you some day, I still do want the 2 cds )

 

Yes, this Tuensday is an old track. Yes I have heard it sooo many times (as I awaited Sorry for The Delay) but I need to improve the mood I’m in, ’cause right now Baby Phoofs is in a funk.

Do you think 340ml  knows how to solve my quarter life crisis?

But Today is Valentine’s day

Happy Love day!

Tunesday – Thebe: Home

 

Thebe Kgositsile - Ngoana mosotho (Motswana really)  o sa khutlele [excuse my spelling ]

Let me stop fronting like he’s a “homey” Earl Sweatshirt is very much American, but Ntate (or Ra) Kgositsile we can claim!

Excited to hear what Earl has been up to since his days in Samoa…mara who sends a kid to Samoa, for what, eh?

Welcome Back, bye!

Claytonia Bigsby

I may have been a racist, xenophobic and self loathing child.

You already know – if you have read my previous posts, that I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood from the ages of 3mo to 6yrs. Then, in 1994, I moved (back) to Maseru, Lesotho, an overwhelmingly predominant black community.

Weeks prior to my move, I heard horror stories about Africa, the older kids told me about being whipped for no reason; I believed that there was a teacher out there who shoved sticks from one ear and out the other, – this teacher would become my Sesotho teacher. These stories were especially scary for me because I had never been hit by my parents (still till this day). The last straw was watching Sarafina over and over again. Seeing kids beaten, shot and viciously attacked by dogs was too much for my 6 year old soon to move to Southern Africa self. I did NOT want to move to Lesotho.

Alas, I returned, and my first weeks back were pleasant. I met my family, and got along well with my English speaking cousins. I had some time before school began, so I enjoyed days at home protected by the high cement barrier and fenced gate that is so familiar in the Southern  African region. One life changing afternoon, I was confronted by my racist, xenophobic self loathing self.

While playing soccer with my brother and cousins, I accidentally kicked the ball over our gate. As the culprit, I had to go fetch the ball, a routine I performed often. As I unchained the gate and prepared to take my steps outside of my garden, I was confronted by all that I was afraid of about Lesotho. A man dressed in a traditional blanket, blaring traditional music out of his radio, and carrying a herder’s stick was quickly approaching. In a blink of an eye, I forgot what I was meant to do, dropped the chain,  and sprinted indoors,crying I hid under the dinning room table.

My mom and sister came out concerned,
“Lebo what’s wrong?”
Sobbing ”There is a man”
“What man?”
“A mosotho man”
Puzzled looks from my mom and sister.

Note that I had white next door neighbors, and I never once flinched when I saw them walk down the street.

I was petrified of my own, somehow believing that I was different from him and that he could bring harm unto me, purely on the fact that he was a Mosotho man.

In some ways I was the female Clayton Bigsby, a character Touré writes about in his New York Times most notable book of 2011.

Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness: What it Means to be Black Now (2011)
Touré
Free Press

Through various parts of the book, I was able to substitute my own life into the text. I had  many head nodding, laughing at the similarities, and goosebumps moments. Although I am not American, I have felt similarly to the experiences Touré writes about. I don’t know if this is purely because of the time I have spent in the US, or because of the parallels to life in South Africa and Brazil? At times I mentally omitted the word “America”  to completely own the experience.  

I recalled my own doubts, or lack of self confidence in my abilities and interest, because of my race. I’ve been told I’m not “really” black in Lesotho, South Africa and the USA, and had a hard time dealing with it. I have become a semi-pro at code switching, not only within the English language, but inter-languages and culturally too. I reflected on the first time I was called a bloody Kaffir in Ladybrand at age 8 by a person I thought to be an acquaintance at worse. Touré’s words about Africans using the word Nigger pulled some strings, and I thought about how uncomfortable I am with the word, yet it rolls off my shoulder whenever someone pejoratively uses it in an attempt to hurt me (honestly, I smile and chuckle).

I was also inspired by his writing and overall message. As I try to shape my niché in the world and create my own teflon shield, Touré’s book reaffirmed that I get to live and define my life on my own terms. I know that there are more than 40 million ways to be black, I now have to be comfortable with it; because at the end of the day, no matter what I say or do, I will forever be black. So why not free my mind of limitations and work towards a better me?

 

R.I.P. Whitney Houston

I’m freaking speechless right now.

One of the best to ever do it, voice of an angel, powerful as a tsunami, sung emotion that encapsulated every crevice of our souls, tumultuous life, gone too soon. Incomparable.

This song is my favorite Whitney song, brought me through my own tumultuous period of my life.

In 1998, I was petrified of death, my own and my family’s. I lost and buried a close friend, and within a week of his funeral, Maseru was attacked by South Africa and Botswana. From 5 AM all I heard was heavy gun shots, and by the afternoon, the city was burnt down. My friends brother was killed in the midst of this all.

Army tanks roamed the streets, gun shots still rang in the air, and the country was under a strict curfew. I had a AK47 pointed at me unintentionally (I hope) , as my father cursed out a South African soldier at the Maseru border.  I honestly thought at any given moment I, or anyone else in my family, could die.

Unbeknownst to my brother, I was comforted by having him sleeping on the floor in my room during this period. I remember one night he made me sing this song over and over again. There was something about singing “If I should die this very day, don’t cry, cause on earth we weren’t meant to stay” that made me a little more at ease with the chaos around me. From that day on, this song has always held a special place in my heart.

For all the chaos in Whitney’s life, I am glad she was able to share a piece of her life with us through her music. Although the later part of her life was tainted by drug abuse, and overall recklessness, she will always remain a beautiful queen of music!

Thank you for bringing me through a difficult period of my life. RIP to the voice, the lady and soul.

Tunesday – Kelle: Stories to Tell

Having one of those heart filled with joypride moments.

Before the age of six I didn’t really think I had family nor really understood the concept of family.  Other than my parents and siblings,  Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins didn’t exist for me . In 1994 when my immediate family moved back to Lesotho, I learnt how people became my aunt and uncle. I asked my uncle if it was my mom or my dad who had asked him to be our uncle (and by our,  that included my parents) I was shocked to find out that he was my mom’s brother. Puzzled, I asked him if he was my mom’s brother like Brother Phoofs was my brother, he said yes. My world opened!

Disclaimer: This is NOT a groupie picture

Over the years since, I have spent much time with my uncle and his family, most recently spending 3 months in their home over the Summer/Winter of 2010. During this time I saw today’s Tunesday artist go back and forth to the studio, but didn’t think too much of it. I knew she could REALLY sing, but had NO idea she was thinking of recording an album…I thought office choirs were enough for her

I was wrong, so please enjoy today’s track as much as I have. I am yet to find a person who dislikes the song or denies her ability to sing…and before she goes to the big time I want people to know we goo waaaaaayyyy back, like I can tell stories of Green Eggs – No Dr Seuss!

Look forward to more stories being told!

Miguel – Adorn

*sigh*

Another on repeat song

M.I.A – Bad Girls

YO! This song and video!!

M.I.A. one of the dopest chicks in music!

Can we talk about the sideways cars, foot skaters, I mean everything in the video is dope!

I’m going to listen to it again!

Popcorn and M&Ms

One night, at a friend’s kick back, we had a fierce debate about Chocolate and Cheese. A friend argued you can put chocolate or cheese on anything. Bread, chocolate or cheese, Cereal, chocolate, Chicken both (A la Molé).

The debate ended with some saying neither worked for Ceviche, I made the case that a little bit of grated mozzarella would go a long way on that Ceviche. After an intense back and forth, I was convinced that you can in fact put chocolate or cheese on anything and it will taste good.

One of my favorite things to put chocolate on is popcorn! The joy I feel when I suddenly encounter a melted M&M swirling in my mouth with some salted popcorn is oral heaven.

NOTHING says great cinema food like hot popcorn (no butter) and some M&Ms. Every movie event without fail I buy a bag of popcorn, skim some from the top, pour a bag of M&Ms (or Smarties if I am in Southern Africa), shake the bag (sometimes to the annoyance of other moviegoers) , sit back and enjoy!

Well today my ears received the same fusion pleasure listening to

Jazzmatazz Vol. 1 (1993)
Guru
Favorite Track: Take a look (at yourself)

Hip Hop known for sampled beats, Jazz has been a favorite for years, and in the early 90s Native Tongues ran the jazz sample world. Even though the musical genre has forever been a part of Hip Hop, Guru’s Jazzmatazz was the first time a Hip Hop artist really fused Jazz with Hip Hop on a commercial album.

The result is a laid back 44 minute journey of musical lessons. I get to learn a bit more about Jazz, I love how slick hip hop talk was back then word is bond! And as expected from Guru, there was nothing bubblegum about his lyrics either. It was like a dinner table conversation without the intense politics, love it!

Next up I’m listening to Jazzmatazz Vol 2. May my Jazz experience continue!