It has been much too long since my last post but I have started a podcast by the same name as well as I have seemed to be pressed for time and often uninspired. But today is a twofold day of gratitude- it is a day of family, heritage, and for mourning for those native ancestors who were unjustly taken so many moons ago. It is also the eve of my 10 year loc-anniversary.

10 years I have worn my hair in dreadlocks- and before anyone attempts to correct my usage of the word dreadlock, please know and understand that I love being called a “dread”- it has been a way of life, an outward expression of my rebellion against all things meant to hold me down, be less, and conform to so-called societal standards of beauty, class, and femininity.

So, let’s go back. 10 years ago, I had just given birth to my youngest child, I was on the verge of completing my bachelor of science degree in business admin, my husband at the time was facing serious prison time, and I felt like I was drowning- like literally drowning.

I tried to go about the days as normally as possible but, it was impossible. Because of everything that was going on , I could not focus on my next steps. I was graduating with honors and yet still had no hope for the future. As I stared in the mirror, I hated who I had become- all my dreams and hopes for the future seemed to be fleeting and I had all these small children depending on me.

I felt very much a prisoner- caged and dying slowly. Once my husband was sent away a few months later and people started disappearing from our lives, I began to see that I had to quickly make a decision. I was receiving eviction notices every month, I could barely afford daycare for my 2 youngest, and it seemed life was riddled with one calamity after another.

I had to dig deep and save my life and ultimately the lives of my children. It was not easy- I made a lot of missteps in my attempt to build a new life. But, we did it together.

But, as my hair has gotten longer and the years have passed, I have grown wiser, stronger, and taken control of my life. So many things have changed over this decade- changed states, jobs, became happily single, written books, become a spiritual teacher, started and ended businesses, gotten back into art, traveled, and this hair has been with me for the ride.

I do not know what the next decade will bring. But, as I sit here tonight, facing certain uncertainties and trials, I know one thing- I will be more than all right. And I am grateful for all of it- the good, bad, ugly of life. Life is joy, pain, laughter, tears, passion, mundane–and it is still good.

Where There is Ruin

Peace to you all from my goddess queendom. I hope this post finds you all safe, healthy, and in peace. Who could have known that the world be so vastly different since my last time writing here?

I have realized so much about myself and my children during this time of being mostly separate from the external world. And coincidentally or not, I transitioned from my full-time job right before all of the shifts occurred here in my city of Charlotte.

This morning, the quote by Rumi “where there is ruin, there is hope for treasure” came to my spirit. I always loved the quote as it speaks to the life I have lived- so much adversity, so much strife, and yet so much joy and love.

I know that lots of people can only see ruin, the devastation and uncertainty of tomorrow and moving forward. I feel inclined to remind you that there is still so much to be grateful for, so much to look forward to, so much that can bring us all more joy if we only choose to look a little deeper.

All across the world, we see people being just a little more patient, a little more kind, a little more grateful. The true unsung heroes are finally being seen for who they are and the outstanding work that they do. There have been reports that global warming has calmed a bit, animals that have not been seen in a long time in certain areas have returned, and Earth Mother Onile is breathing again.

I am sending you all love today and moving forward. We will get through this transformative time–together. If you find yourself struggling with your emotions, reach out to a friend or a family member. You do not have to go this alone. Until the next time, take care my friends.




We Need a Revolution

Peace and love to the fam on this beautiful (though little gloomy) morning. Man oh man, what a turn of events we are experiencing at this time. Donald J Trump is president. I never thought I would be typing that but it is true. I did not partake in watching the festivities on yesterday because to be honest I have absolutely no desire to do so and really am not concerned with him at all.
I recently created a video on my YouTube channel discussing why people should not concern themselves with his election and focus more on their local government and their homes. I still feel the same way. This next statement may make some people be angry, unfollow me, even curse me but in my opinion, Barack Obama did no more for black people than any other president.

He made many, many, many statements in support of law enforcement when we all know the overseers, I mean officers of the law have been attacking and murdering our people like never before, with no recourse. He even signed into law the “Blue Alert Law”, a law that specifically protects police officers. He has helped many segments of people in America, including transgender and even Jews. The one action that I have seen him take that has affected the Afrikan community in Amerikkka is his commutation of sentences of non-violent drug offenders. But, I honestly feel that there is something to that action and not all positive. Nevertheless, his time in office is over and now we have Trump at the helm.

Historically, Amerikka has not served Afrikan people well at all. We were viewed as property, brainwashed beyond belief, and still have issues from all that has been done, even though some of us have family that were here before the Europeans. The presidents of Amerikka are in place to maintain the corporation. We that live here must learn to navigate effectively within this system because whether we want to believe it or not, we are a part of it. Change come not through focusing on what we have no control over, but by working on issues that we absolutely do have control over. Revolution begins in the mind. Many of us are sick, mentally ill, and delusional. The most important work one could ever do is on self. Everything else will align once we break the chains off the brains! We have way to many niggas and not enough gods!

My challenge to my people is to do the work that you can within your own community. We have more power than we realize and working on self and our immediate environment is of utmost important. Doing worthwhile work with others working towards liberation is highly important. In the words of Assata Shakur “we need a revolution of the mind. we need a revolution of the heart. we need a revolution of the spirit. the power of the people is stronger than any weapon. a people’s revolution can’t be stopped. we need to be weapons of mass construction. weapons of mass love. it’s not enough just to change the system. we need to change ourselves. we have got to make this world user friendly. user friendly.”




Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali

Enough is Enough…

Peace, love, and light fam! Can you believe that we are nearing the end of 2016? I certainly cannot but 2016 was quite a year on my end! Anyway, this past week has been very trying for me which is why I have been mostly absent from my blog space, as well as YouTube etc. My laptop took her final bow and I have not gotten a new one yet but, I will soon!  So many things are on my mind but one thing that is particularly nagging me and that is the barrage of bashing of black women by black men online.

Let me start with this, I know that these men do not represent the majority (or I sincerely hope not!). Nevertheless, it is an issue that seems to be ongoing and not stopping anytime soon. I don’t know if they have mother issues, a string of failed relationships, or just terrible experiences with the sistas and personally, I don’t give a damn if they have! How dare any black man spew such hatred to the one who birthed him? There is so much wrong with this dynamic.

First of all, the Afrikan diaspora has been under constant attack since the first invaders hit the shores of our beautiful continent. We have NO room for disunity! We have enough outer enemies without there being battling between our own. The war is on and some of the brothers feel as though they are somehow exempt by choosing to lay with a woman that does not share the same experience as he does. No matter how many women he chooses to procreate or have relationships with, he is still an Afrikan and still a part of the struggle, whether he is fighting against the system of racism or fighting for comfort within the system of racism. Some of these men actually are bigger white supremacists than you could imagine.

Secondly, where is this hatred coming from because it could not have just started. And as a mother/sister/daughter, I have to make certain that I am not absorbing the negativity that I see and hear into my own psyche because it can be damaging. I almost feel as though the men who are attacking us are damaged themselves and instead of dealing with their issues, they have instead chosen to attack those who are closest to him—his mother, sister, lover, cousin.

And I will wrap this vent session up with a few points. It is heartbreaking to see some of the memes and discussions about how undesirable we are, how untrustworthy, how annoying, how disagreeable, how “everything negative that one could conceive” we are.  It is as though a huge target has been placed upon us and they are taking aim. Now again, I do know and understand that these men are not the majority but in the day and age that we live and with the continued attacks against our people, one would think that they would put their pettiness aside and rise above the bullshit. And yes, I said bullshit because that is exactly what it is.

Now, please do not misunderstand. I am in no way naïve. I know that not all black women are living to their full potential. I know we have work to do; we have women who would rather twerk than cook, whose full time job is going to child support court or the Department of Social Services.  But there is work to be done amongst the black men as well because we continue to have men who will not take responsibility of seeds that have created, whose full time job is playing Madden, and who have been in jail more than they have been free. We all need pruning!

In all honesty, I have had some absolutely terrible relationships, had a very dysfunctional upbringing with a less than warm step father,  yet you will not hear me utter “Niggas ain’t shit!”  I absolutely adore black men! They are my brothers, suns, fathers, grandfathers, uncles, cousins. They are the strength of the community and are so needed.  Our community is in desperate need of weeding! Let’s weed out those who seek to destroy the nation.  Make them accountable for their actions and make consequences for their wrongs. The black woman has suffered long enough. Damn can she catch a break!!




Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali





What is Liberation?

Peace, love, and light fam. I hope all is well with you and yours. I am stupendously busy as usual. I did take a small break this weekend, enjoying much needed free time with friends and extended family. I have been thinking about what freedom and liberation really looks like and feels like. For the vast majority of us living in this world, liberation is an abstract idea, a dream, a beautiful fantasy. Many of us would struggle with day to day operations as a truly sovereign individual. Let’s talk about what liberation could possibly look like.

First of all, a truly liberated people would own things such as land and property. According to an article published on www.blackisonline.com in 2010, there are only 68,000 African American land owners in the US and they only own 7.7 million acres which is miniscule in the land that has a mass of 2.3 billion acres. Land ownership is essential to wealth creation and sustainability.

Secondly, a truly liberated people would have their own their own systems in place for government, education, healthcare, commerce/economics, etc. Currently, the Amerikkan African (a term coined by a dear friend and leader M’Bwebe Ishangi), depends on those who have oppressed us for the last several centuries for almost everything in our lives, including our foodstuffs. We attend their schools, we go to their doctors and medical facilities, we use their banks, we operate under their self-proclaimed democracy. And we suffer. We suffer from being disenfranchised, over charged, underserved, and miseducated. But many are so comfortable in their oppression that they will fight you if you attempt to suggest another way of living is possible.

Lastly, a truly liberated people will embrace true unity. Living communally; working with others in farming, hunting, craftswork; giving of their talents wholly; fully embracing ancient practices of medicine, eating, and living. When I think of freedom, I visualize a community of my people living and working together, traveling to the medicine man or wombman for health issues, community policing, bartering for goods. I visualize peace and freedom from the threat of police violence, micro-aggressions from those not of the culture, blatant racist acts, and most of all the systems that are diluting a lost people. Every day when I rise , I remind myself of who I am and what I have come to do. I am Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali and I am a revolutionary. I am here to fight for the liberation of my people and I will not stop until my last breath.




Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali

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