Conscious Revolutionary

Peace fam! I hope you all are well and enjoying your holiday weekend. I find myself getting lost in my own thoughts lately. One thing in particular that I have been pondering is the idea of what has been termed “consciousness” as well what it means to be truly revolutionary. My conclusion is that , much like with anything else, labels are damning and restrictive.

I began the process of peeling back layers of social correctedness years ago and discovered many, many truths that were initially hard to swallow, especially the aspect of religion. And although I knew the truth of our stolen legacy, I continued to hold to falsehood so as not to be weirder than I already am. It took me years to accept my role as the proverbial black sheep. I so wanted to fall into the shadows and not be seen but light will shine, regardless of attempts to cloak, cover, or hide it.

As of lately , I have been studying life and death from a more metaphysical viewpoint which has opened my third eye even more to the fallacy and restriction so-called consciousness can place upon an individual seeking growth. I inner-under-overstand that allowing myself to be named “conscious” limits me. I am so much more than a conscious soul.

As for being revolutionary, I truly believe that I am a revolutionary and am growing more into my reality as a revolutionary daily. You may ask what qualifies me as a revolutionary. First of all, I am revolutionary in how I rear my children. I do not want them to be robots unable to make sound, independent decisions. I also teach them everything I have learned and am learning—from politics, to religion, to social responsibility, to health consciousness, the whole nine. Secondly, I am revolutionary in the way that I interact with and treat my sistars and brothas. I see each one of them as my blood and I treat them as such. Whether the individual be a Muslim , Christian, a fellow revolutionary comrade, Moor, etc, it only matters to me that we have a history that is intertwined and we need each other. I want to see them free. I want to see them liberated. I could go on about life as a revolutionary, my work in the community,etc but I won’t. I believe you get the idea. Assata Shakur once said “Revolution is love”. All of the things that I am doing and have done as well as the things I have yet to do is out of my sincere love for my people—the members of the Afrikan diaspora. Until we speak again, remember this- I love you all and will continue to fight for you until I am no longer on this earthly plane.


Peace, Love, & Light,

Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali

The Tru Lioness


Peace to Brother Malcolm

Today is the day that we celebrate the bEarth of one of our most beloved ancestors, El Hajj Malik El Shabazz, better known as Malcolm X. I was first introduced to his philosophy and life as a child. I was always on the search for information (I’m not too different now). I needed to read stories about my own people, about Afrikan people in this country and no one was speaking on it. All I ever heard about was Martin Luther King Jr and Rosa Parks—I needed more. I stumbled upon a copy of The Autobiography of Malcolm X in our neighborhood library. I was eleven years old but my life was changed on the day I checked that book out from the library.

As I read the book, I saw myself through his eyes. I realized that racism had been just as prevalent in my life as anything else; a kind of ugliness that had become so commonplace that it was permissible. No one had explained to me microagressions, the fake smiles, the push by parents, teachers, preachers to “fit” in to European standards of beauty, education, attire, speech. No one explicitly told me to fight back or that I should be angry about what I felt was wrong. Malcolm made it okay for me to be angry. When my white friends mom said I couldn’t sleep over or go inside their house; when the teacher refused to teach anything about Afrikan contributions to Amerikka; when store keepers followed me in the store because I obviously must be a thief—Malcolm spoke to me and said that their actions were not warranted and I should fight back. My anger became a very important tool in my development. I embarked on an exploration of my life and the lives of those connected to me. Malcolm made me proud of my Afrikan self.

He reached to the very essence of who I was and who I am today. Although he is not a blood relative, he is one of the most important ancestors in my life and I would not be the Lioness if it were not for him. He has been a master weaver in the tapestry of my life as a revolutionary-minded Afrikan wombman. So today and for the rest of my days in this earthly plane, I say salute to my dear ancestor Malcolm. I appreciate and love you for all you have done.




Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali

The Tru Lioness

Living a Rich Life

Peace and blessings fam! As always I do hope that my message finds you well. Sometimes, I think I my approach is perceived as not being authentic. I have even had people ask me if I am always happy. Let me clear something up—no I am not always happy. I have struggles, days I don’t feel my best, but I do always feel joyful, even when things are not as I want or desire them to be. I find myself laughing at old jokes, smiling at the laughter of children, grinning at an old hip hop song that I found on YouTube. I find joy in creating art, poetry or prose, dancing, singing, telling jokes, etc.

I have discovered that joy is what sustains us and with that joy, comes resounding peace. I realize that I am among the lucky ones. I am not rich but I am wealthy. Bob Marley was once asked if he was a wealthy man. He asked the reporter what he meant by being wealthy. The reporter asked if he had material riches at which point he replied, no, his riches his life. I feel the same. I may not have a fat bank account but I am wealthy and my life is rich. I have met amazing people in my life, made wonderful friends, and I have a beautiful family. I am no braggart but I have been blessed with multiple natural abilities, am able to learn things quickly, and I have peace, love, and joy in my life. I am rich.

I realize that my writings as of late have not been on topics that are the norm for me such as police brutality, privatization of prisons, the destruction of the black family, and liberation of the people. Writing is salve to the wounds of a woman who has fought for her entire life. I am evolving rapidly and yes liberation is and must always be at the forefront of my mind, but I realize that I have to live also. Huey Newton once said “The first lesson a revolutionary must learn is that he is a doomed man.” Since I am a revolutionary, I am allowing myself to live my doomed life to the absolute fullest. Until my last breath, I am going to live.



Peace, Love, & Light,

Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali

Peace loved ones. As always, I hope and pray you all are well and experiencing joy and peace and all wonderful emotions. This blog post is not going to be like any of the other posts I have ever made before but I feel it is necessary because the issue is pertinent in our community but is often swept under the rug.

Molestation and other sexual abuses of our youth is an issue within our communities and we desperately need to deal with it. The most recent case that has been showing up in multiple online news sites, YouTube, etc involves Afrika Bambataa. Numerous men have raised accusations against him and it is down right sickening. We all are aware of R Kelly and many others who have seemingly gotten away with this very disturbing crime.

I personally was molested as a child—once by an older childhood friend and on another occasion  by a friend of our family who was like an uncle to me. I was raped at age 20 by a childhood friend. It has taken me years to speak those words or allow myself to acknowledge what really was done. Initially, I denied the feelings of insecurity and ugliness I felt.  I denied those things have even happened. I drank terribly and numbed myself to the buried memories. But, I realize that I needed to deal with it. I needed to cry, scream, to feel. The predators who took away my preciousness and exposed me to their disgusting desires deserve punishment, not protection.

The bravery of all of those who have been through these situations is very encouraging. I realize that their courage has inspired me. But, I also realize that we as a community must confront this issue. We cannot continue to speak out about oppression and liberation if we are not honest and brave enough to deal with the ugliness that lives under our own roof. Many of these predators live in our communities, some in our own homes. They attend the mosque or the church. They are uncles, aunts, cousins, sisters, brothers, fathers. I personally do not care what position they hold, what their reputation is, how popular they are, how much money they have. They need to be exposed and dealt with—point, blank, period. And those that are victimized, should be supported, loved, and never intimidated for their truth. Children are the reward of life as the old African proverb says. We have failed as a community, leaving the blameless emotionally scarred and sometimes they even become abusers themselves. Let us be accountable. For the brothers and sisters who have spoken out, much love and respect to you and to those who protect the predator, remember that Karma will find you. Let’s break this vicious cycle and end this wickedness once and for all!



Ankh, Udja, Seneb (Life, Health, & Prosperity),

Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali

The Tru Lioness


Photo cred: Michael Ackerman