Muhammad Ali's Twentieth -Century Revolt

Muhammad Ali (Image via RottenTomatoes.com)

"You want to send me to jail? Fine, you go right ahead. I've been in jail for 400 years. I could be there for 4 or 5 more, but I ain't going no 10,000 miles to help murder and kill other poor people. If I want to die, I'll die right here, right now, fightin' you, if I want to die. You my enemy, not no Chinese, no Vietcong, no Japanese. You my opposer when I want freedom. You my opposer when I want justice. You my opposer when I want equality. Want me to go somewhere and fight for you? You won't even stand up for me right here in America, for my rights and my religious beliefs. You won't even stand up for my right here at home."
~Muhammad Ali 

You have to respect Muhammad Ali's stance. If you know the story, there is no way not to admire the way he licked out against injustice. At the time, he was the undisputed, heavy-weight champion of the world. He was as recognizable as any president or prime minister. He was loved by millions who considered him out spoken and confident. He was maybe hated by millions also, because that said confidence was seen by some as brash and boastful. In any case , Ali was seen by many Black people as a conscientious Brother with a mad swag and charisma, one who would was never 'fraid to chat how We feel. The situation was laden with irony: the source of Ali's fame and livelihood was the said system he was lashing out against.

There are many facets and layers to this story. The Vietnamese War caused rift between Americans, Black or White. It was part of the whole Cold War posturing between the U.S. and U.S.S.R, and many of us in the so-called Third World were affected by the "super powers" insistence that countries line up with one or the other. Many of us in the Caribbean and Africa felt the ramifications of political friction- Capitalist vs Socialist propaganda and manipulation, CIA vs KGB coercion.

At the time, Black people in America were going through the fight for civil rights. Many of the Brothers and Sisters in the military were in conflict over their feelings of  loyalty for the Black Struggle and commitment to patriotic duty. Refusing induction into the military to fight what he felt was an unjust war was a bold statement- a Twentieth-century act of Revolt.

When I look at old media takes, film and interviews, Ali was adamant, yet dignified in his statements against the war. When he mentioned his solidarity with poor people world wide, his voice is pounding with conviction. His refusal to go fight in Vietnam wound him up in court, facing prison time, being stripped of his boxing title and losing millions of dollars. Even though he was eventually offered a "soft" position in the military where he wouldn't face any fighting, Ali still refused to be drafted, based on his religious beliefs.

Jah know, Muhammad Ali's stance against the system is the reason I consider him the Greatest (fighter of all time). 

He got up, stood up for his rights. And ours.

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Pressure Creates Diamonds

 Pressure Bursts Pipes

One evening on the football pitch, a man is standing, lining up a penalty kick to win the match. Seconds balance on a ledge as he bores a glare into the ball and a next man bawls out from the sideline, "Preshah Buss Pipe," the sound echoing around off trees, walls, and in the minds of man and man.

Nuff times in life, nights seem never ending. At some point in time, the verb and noun "struggle" morphed into a proper noun, "The Struggle", the emphasis worn on the backs of "Strugglahs/Strugglers." Often, the burden bends and eventually breaks some of them backs. But the same hardships or preshah that buss pipe, that said pressure creates diamonds.

                    Pressure Creates Diamonds

Carbon is a mineral and diamonds are allotropes of carbon, which only means it is the same carbon existing in another form. Oh by the way, Carbon is abundant in and about and all throughout the Universe. It's found in all living things, all in me and you. The interesting thing 'bout diamonds is that they are formed over millions of years, by high-intense pressure and molten temperatures deep down in the earth. These extreme measures change the structure of carbon, hardening it and adding the illustrious qualities that make diamonds. This new carbon structure's (diamond) superlative hardness, strength and density allows for little impurity. Purity and transparency, combined with its structural rigidness makes a diamond reflect light with luster. This is why a diamond sparkles and shines.

So now, see how a lump of coal (contains carbon) is formed into a tough, beautiful gem? The same preshah that buss pipe is that said pressure wha'  create diamonds. For us, the difference is in how we react; our response indicates whether we folding, leaking down di drain when things tough; or, if we coming sparkling like diamonds, fresh out di rough and harder than any natural material. This is how Bredren and Sistren SHINE, despite and in spite of adversity...Strive to come in as a gem. Yuh done know... BLING, naturally.



Image by Getty Images via @daylifeOh, and the penalty kick...
"PRESHAH MEK DIAMOND, " the brother  answer back right after lacing the ball in the right V*. Shine on mi bredren. Shine on!

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*V the corner of the goal where the crossbar and the post meet.

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Omodele: The Son Also Rises

copyright 2010 K. Omodele

Sunrise is a gold-smeared promise, with its hint of anticipation. Day clean; a new slate; a rebirth, like Spring, except The Son is only a day older. He's excited as he embraces each Dawn- a time to briefly contemplate then bury yesterday's mistakes. Can't undo what has been done. (Did Basquait ever erase smudges; did he cover smears?)

Sunrise is a vernal whisper cascading over dying winter silence. It blankets the algid night and its dew-draped freshness inspires, murmuring, "Today is a new day." Pond water steadily slushing over stagnant stones is his mantra, persistence will eventually form, shape and mold the unyielding. "Life is change; stagnation is death."

The Son rises with the sun. He rises like the sun...With the confidence worn by a warrior who has trodded through a hail of brimstone and gunfire, he meditates over his canvass, lifts his chin and continues painting the rest of Life's Journey...

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Cupful Reasoning

Copyright K.Omodele 2010

A worn-out team of laborers, bellies swollen from lashing down lunch ‘pon rapid, loaf under a scaffold shading them from the hammering, midday-Manhattan, summer sun.

“Wha’ in de hell colonization have to do with de damn World Cup, Dreadie?” Bajie asking, tooth-picking his domino teeth, then snorting out a laugh. “Gah bleh, man, ganja got yuh reasoning light headed or what?” Checks his watch.
Dreadie eyes stick tight to his HTC phone screen as the ESPN commentators dissect England’s brand new loss to Germany. Standing over his shoulder catching the commentary, Trevor shoves down a last-couple fry plantains.
Dreadie answers without lifting his eyes from his phone. “Is my theory, Bredrin. First World Cup EVER on African soil- none a de colonizers dem shall win this Cup! The AnceSTARS nah mek dat line up none at all!”
“True, True,” Snickering, Trevor adds. “Talk to he, Ras. Ah bet Bajie sick, sick, sick dat Jolly-Ole England get she face cuff in.”
Bajie twists up his shovel mouth, sucks his teeth then turns. “Rudeboy, tell him nuh. Is pure dotishness this man talking. One thing ain got nuttin to do with de other.”
Rudeboy coils his lanky frame on a putty bucket and flicks out a cigarette. “No sah. Baj, I hope di Dread right. It mek perfect sense to mi,” he answers, smiling, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Wunna mad, mad. So tell me nuh, who gon win it den? Ghana is de only African nation still lef in it, yuh know.”
Dreadie peels back his tam and flashes his locks. “Mek I tell yuh who nah goh win: England, France, Italy nor Portugal.”
Everyone except Bajie laughs.
Dreadie continues. “Neither Netherlands, Spain nor Germany-”
“Germany? Why not Germany?” Bajie sounds like teacher prepping them for CXC. “Dey certainly were not colonialists. Plus, you see how strong the side is-like machines. German engineering.”
Dreadie finally pries his gaze from his phone screen and penetrates Bajie with it. “Doan matter because, yes, Germany did a portion a colonizing too.”
Trevor buss out a laugh. “Wait, Bajie, yuh ain never hear bout Cameroon and German East Africa- Tanzania an dem place? Personally, Dread, I think South American team gon win it- four a these final eight team come from there.”
Bajie scoffs. “Of course you would say that, Guyanese. So who you have winning? Let me guess nuh- Brazil?”
Dreadie contemplates while placing his crown back on his head, eyes still on screen. “Either dem or Argentina.” He tucks rope thick locks under the tam once more.
Bajie pounces and blasts a shot from left field. “Wait! How you doan consider Ghana, Mr. Africa Unite; Brother One Blood; Comrade Stand-Up-Fuh-We-Reparations-Now?
Dreadie glances up. “I want Ghana win, Bajie, ‘ca I want see Africa do good. But yuh know, even when Brazil win, is African victory.”
“Yeah, fi real,” Rudeboy adds. Checks the time and unfolds his legs and jumps up into a stretch.
“I tell you bou’ smoking that ting dere, Dread,” Bajie utters, shaking a finger at the Ras. “Brazil is not in Africa!”
Trevor Intervenes. “Yuh chupid bad, Bajie. Yuh always sound so like yuh want be a British Subject again.”
Dreadie turns off the screen, pockets the phone and rises. “Baj, but Africa is in Brazil!”
Bajie’s face soaks in bewilderment as each man grabs his hard hat and shoots into the mouth of the building.

More Construction Crew Stories on The Abeng and My Conscious Pen

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