Love is God…

There is a need to wrestle the name of God from the haters. Daily, someone evokes God’s name chanting hate, oozing hate, despising, damning, condemning, others, in the name of God? Their god is hate not love. Their god is not my God. My God is love. Love is my God. Their paradise has no room for love. There is a need to take back the name of God! As a person of faith I must stand up for love and rebuke hate. When I say nothing or do nothing I betray love. My love must exceed and extinguish their hate. My kindness must exceed and extinguish their violence. I will stand up for Love and against hatred, prejudice and bigotry. My God is Love and Love is stronger than hate. My Love is greater than their hate. Hate does not speak for me. Hate cannot speak for me. Marvin Gaye sings it best here please enjoy 

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Peace and change starts with me.

I sometimes wonder if humans ever learn. In the last 3 decades we have had genocide in almost every continent and we cannot seem to learn. There are countries where people under 30 have never seen peace and stability and their entire lives have been spent in a war zone. We create weapons capable of self destruction. We kill in the name of God. We spend more energy destroying, and criticizing than creating. There is hope though if each of us decides enough is enough and I have. This life is the only one I know I have and I will not be swayed by hate. I will create a cocoon of peace, harmony and joy with each breath and I will spread it to everyone I touch. Peace and change starts with me. Every little bit counts and each moment is an opportunity to change. I will not only imagine but I will act, write, dance, sing, cry and laugh.

Can you believe that this video is almost 30 years old?

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No one cries for me!

No one cries for me, my short life not even worthy of a hashtag or footnote as leaders and future leaders  rally for electoral votes. I am not Charlie,  just a nameless faceless child burned to a crisp and left like trash in the charred remains of my town. No one cries for me, not even the mother who took time to wash my hair and plait it in perfect rows, her burned body lies besides the hundreds of relatives friends and enemies equal in agony and death. No one cries for me, no one cries for us, we remain faceless roasted flesh, unholy sacrifices on the altar of Boko Haram. Cry for me and Baga Nigeria. Raise dirges and ululate for the children kidnapped (or sold) and strapped with bombs, unwilling messengers of death.  Look at my body as you pray and do something, say something, change something. Was my life in vain?

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A prayer for Nigeria

Lord God forgive Nigeria we pray…

For injustice against minorities,

Lord God forgive Nigeria….

For religious intolerance

Lord God forgive Nigeria…

For child slavery, abuse, neglect and marriage

Lord God forgive Nigeria…

For religious leader who use you

To oppress the weak, vulnerable, or ignorant

Lord God forgive Nigeria…

For Biafra war

Lord God forgive Nigeria…

For Dele Giwa, Ken Saro Wiwa, Bola Ige

And others whose blood spilled needlessly

Lord God forgive Nigeria….

For the Aluu 4 and countless,

Nameless others lynched senselessly

Lord God forgive Nigeria…

For ritual murders,

Lord God forgive Nigeria…

For valuing money over life

Lord God forgive Nigeria…

For our so called leaders

who refuse to #bringbackourgirls

 #stopBokoHaram or #stopNTDs

Lord God forgive Nigeria…

For choosing death instead of life,

War instead of peace,

Intolerance instead of love,

O Lord God forgive Nigeria

and grant us the courage to do likewise!

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Presumed dangerous – playing while black or brown

I drove by a park today. A typical park in Houston and little boys and girls were playing all sorts of games as kids do. I looked on enviously at their carefree youthful exuberance. Memories of childhood games rushed into my mind, toy guns, action figures, bikes and utter glee. The ability to play oblivious to time constraints.
The light changed and I continued on my way. One little boy sitting alone on the sidelines caught my attention and all I could think about was the video, of the little boy. The 12 year old playing with a toy gun like boys do, who was shot without warning. I was angry that the media portrayed him as guilty. I was angry that so many people said he should have known better. I was frustrated that the cops lied about the encounter, reframing their extrajudicial killing of a child as justified. I was sad that another mother had to bury her baby. Her baby who died not knowing why? A 12 year old kid who did not know that playing while black / brown is a capital offense in the USA.  RIP Tamir Rice. http://abcnews.go.com/US/cleveland-cops-recklessly-shot-boy-12-toy-gun/story?id=27402837

@Pharrell, is being #malignedbymedia who never read the #Ebony article. http://www.ebony.com/entertainment-culture/pharrell-williams-talks-race-black-women-and-social-justice-cover-story/2#axzz3KN6BStbe

We live in an era where information travels by tweets and texts so fast your 15 minutes of fame is gone in 15 nanoseconds. Ok that’s an exaggeration. But there is no excuse for so called reputable media to misquote @Pharrell (Pharrell Williams) when the Ebony article is available with a simple google search. While I expect this behavior from certain online tabloids, the fact that mainstream media have embraced the same nonsense is scary. I am not sure what they are gaining from twisting his words and I do not want to speculate because some folks will then misquote me and accuse me of something else. Instead, I am attaching a link to the original story for those who have a brain and choose to read for themselves and refuse to embrace the noise and gabbage and sound bite. Remember misinformation is more dangerous than ignorance #PeaceandStayHappy http://www.ebony.com/entertainment-culture/pharrell-williams-talks-race-black-women-and-social-justice-cover-story/2#axzz3KN6BStbe