Someone I knew years ago told me that while growing up with her Grandmother in Jamaica, her grandmother made it known to all of her children and grand children that they should bring her flowers while she was alive, in her living state. She said, do not bring them when she has left the world, what would be the use! To which I concur!..I have told you all about my Mentors and great friends, Mr. Mitchel, Mr. Pierre and my sweet Padrino. These people I had recognized as ones I had to meet in this life time, and I feel so blessed that I met them, and so their memory lives on within me and also I have introduced them to my children you all and anyone I meet. They left an impact on my life and because of them, I am who I am. Another Extraordinary person I met was my Mother. Born in Lucea, Hanover Jamaica, she was quick to tell you that she has been a naturalized Kingstonian from age sixteen. If you notice, she is scattered through out most of my posts, as I recall fond and not so fond memories of her. She is alive and well, still with my dad, but she was, to me, an enigma, and I suppose also to a lot of people. Mama was a beautiful woman, not just physically but what she exuded through her character as a person, though strong and a natural born leader, she cared about people and had not a drop of evil in her, not too short and just shy of plump, with skin so firm and tight you could not pinch her. An extremely stylish woman, who dressed nicely all the time, but when she was home she would relax, cook and sing (while cooking) in her favorite blue shorts which she wore almost every day when we lived in Jamaica. She had friends who visited her a lot and some would speak in hushed tones to her about problems they were having, seeking help for her to solve them.I was always curious of this as a young girl growing up, with my loyal and tasty thumb thrust in my mouth as I watched her secretly anoint people with sweet smelling oils or chase away some evil who seemed to have slipped into the house while we slept. She was the one the younger women ran to when their boyfriends were beating them and in flight they would run straight to her, hiding behind her, quivering with the beater man in tow. Some men knew not to challenge her, while others tried, to which my mother never backed down and so they had to retreat, which was expected by all who looked on, and the disgruntled boyfriend walking away grumbling, in his throat, I must say…. lol, my mother was a bad gal, real bad gal! I was her greatest fan, it breaks my heart to this day that we have drifted apart and for so long, but through wisdom I understand why, yet she gave me all she could which was her strength and to that I am grateful.
She was an excellent cook and baker, she had all girls and could not comb our hair to save her life, but we never lacked anything! Although our father was there she was the main provider and teacher of us all, I believed I learned the most, I loved her so much that I remembered all she taught us, and more. I have heard many people with molestation stories and I feel so sorry for them but I thank God that neither me or any of my cruel siblings have such stories to tell. Not with our mother! Everyone knew in our neighborhood not to try her or her children, she was not a loud mouth, nor was she cantankerous, grouchy or a gossiper. She was just a hard working woman, who happened to be a confident mother and a defender of her family and all she loved and she did not hide that she was willing and able to fight anyone who challenged her or her children, and she did. Any disrespect to her or us was met with her Ice pick or machete, and Mama was not afraid to use them, be it man, woman, beast or foe, Xena, warrior princess had had nothing on my mama. Jamaica was rough, we lived in Kingston 13, and though it may not have been what it is nowadays, Wolves and Lions roamed about freely disguised as human beings, and she knew this, so she took no chances. She was and still is loved and respected by most, and now that she has gotten older, she has slowed down some, but a spark of fire still is lit deep within and it only takes a spark to get a fire burning!
Some time ago I met a Babalawo through a friend of mine, an African American man, highly Spiritual and very strong. When I met him we all sat around his parlor and spoke about everything Spiritual, but what struck me extraordinary about him was, from the moment I met him how humble he was, for someone so competent in what he did, he was quiet in his wisdom, which means that whenever he spoke, wise words came out of his mouth, delivered effortlessly and without ego. After our first meeting we met a couple of times, and his character never changed and this made me realize that he was confident in who he was, he had nothing to prove. Iron sharpeneth Iron and there are times when I call him for Spiritual support, I am Human after all and I know that no man is an Island, no one should stand alone! If I worry about something, whether I am in Africa or not, he always finds time for me, and he also calls me whenever he needs support, never acting as if he is too big or proud or learned to hear from me a Woman, as some men would tend to think, I respect him for that. Often times Spiritual people when they get together, they may brag or try to compete with what power they believe they may have or what they believe they may know, and I believe this takes away from their character and true potential, because God has all the power, we here who do the work of God are just mere interpreters, able to interpret what is being told to us from non-physical beings and deities, belonging to another realm, we should be humble and do our service to humanity with love.
He in turn has introduced me to other elders that he knows, who happens to be Diviners and Spiritualists alike. One who is his Padrino when he was apart of the Lucumi system, he has since been to Africa and initiated there, but he remembered the goodness of his Padrino and they are still as close as ever which also speaks of his character as a loyal person, and the other an older gentle man with an humble demeanor and the most amazing gift of divination, the man can be described as a walking spirit….I only met his Padrino once, a Spanish light skinned man who seemed to be in our age group, but he made such an impression on me for the short time I was in his space, the knowledge he had was indeed extraordinary, and he shared so much of himself with me, in our short encounter. He seemed to care about people and his whole character was jovial, airy and clean. His Spirit was light and cheerful, but there was a strength within him that could not be denied. In our short meeting, I learned so much from him, that I know if I never see him again I will always remember him. The older man, the walking Spirit, is in a league all on his own, the gift that God bestowed on this man, I have never seen none like him but for a few. When I found out his age from my Babalwao friend, eighty five years old, I went home and prayed that God doubled his years here with us on Earth and not take him away anytime soon, probably for selfish reasons I thought at first but knowing that I am never a selfish person, I knew I prayed that prayer so other people could also meet him and be blessed with his gift also.
My daughters and sons are also extraordinary people, not because they are my children, but because they are truly extraordinary people, who to this day I cannot believe I am their mother, what did I do to deserve them, the wisdom that comes form these people mouths as individuals and as a collective, I am amazed. Of them and their characters and abilities it would take a book to explain, but I thank the Lord that they chose me to bring them forth and to mother them, the Wicked Father is not missed at all! My husband, one of the most extraordinary persons I know, a Babalawo Extraordinaire, his story I will write one day, from his journey as a small boy who lost his parents a year apart and had to go into training to become Babalawo at age five far way from home without any member of his family there, to his position which he holds in Nigeria currently, his titles and accomplishments, for one so young and the fight of all the older men and women upon him for what God has given to him naturally….
Although I have never met any of my bloggers you are all extraordinary people, even the peepers, why?…anyone who has found me, Obara Meji, who has searched me out and found me, it was not a mistake or just curiosity or mere coincidence, it was meant to be!..You all were led to me. This I know for sure, your guides brought us together and the reasons for it you will know some day, if not already,… I know who you all are, and what you all mean to me…..I leave the space for you all to tell of all your extraordinary people, ….Let us honor them today!
Kí a dé igbó kí a má fọ’hùn ló ńmú ẹyẹ oko ṣu síni lórí. /
To maintain a stoic silence in the forest is how bird droppings get to land on one’s head. Yoruba Proverbs!
[Keep moving; inactivity is risky]