Dear friends The Somali Family Support Group invites you to their Black History Month 2007 event to commemorate and reflect upon the African Holocaust and its legacy. Slavery Abolition and its Legacy: Tony Warner from the 100 Black Men of London will present a comprehensive, interactive, audio- visual exploration of the reality of slavery, abolition, and its legacy on economics, politics, immigration, society and war. The presentation will examine pre-European Africa, African resistance fighters in Africa, Caribbean North and South America, where African wealth ended up and with whom, the knock-on effect of colonialism and the roots of white supremacy. Understanding the legacy of chattel enslavement: In this talk Dr. William (Lez) Henry will consider the notions of enslavement by highlighting some of the differences between African chattel slavery and other forms of economic exploitation. He will also explain why the teaching of the black presence in history is important to all of us, especially the African and African Caribbean people who are often taught that their history begins with chattel enslavement and that white abolitionists were responsible for securing their freedom. Key questions: . Are there any differences between African chattel slavery and other forms of slavery which are generally known as human trafficking or forced labour? . Do you think that a better understanding of the history of African people before chattel slavery is necessary to your sense of self-worth and self-esteem as a person of African descent? . Has the legacy of chattel enslavement affected our contemporary relationships and lifestyles in a world which has now become a global village? Date: Saturday 20th October 2007 Time: 2pm to 6pm Venue: Avenue House East End Road Finchley, N3 3QE Contact: 02083714125/ 07809614053

The A-Team Good Times Jeffersons Sanford & Son Dallas Knight Rider Vitimbi The Cosby Show Fat Albert Top Cat Jeopardy 60 Minutes AHH! THE LIST GOES ON.............

I ask What If This Man Lived Now? TAKE A MOMENT TO LISTEN TO THIS!!! Here is the Eulogy read by Ted Kennedy@ the funeral of his brother Robert Francis Kennedy! Your Eminences, Your Excellencies, Mr. President: On behalf of Mrs. Kennedy, her children, the parents and sisters of Robert Kennedy, I want to express what we feel to those who mourn with us today in this Cathedral and around the world. We loved him as a brother, and as a father, and as a son. From his parents, and from his older brothers and sisters Joe and Kathleen and Jack he received an inspiration which he passed on to all of us. He gave us strength in time of trouble, wisdom in time of uncertainty, and sharing in time of happiness. He will always be by our side. Love is not an easy feeling to put into words. Nor is loyalty, or trust, or joy. But he was all of these. He loved life completely and he lived it intensely. A few years back, Robert Kennedy wrote some words about his own father which expresses the way we in his family felt about him. He said of what his father meant to him, and I quote: "What it really all adds up to is love not love as it is described with such facility in popular magazines, but the kind of love that is affection and respect, order and encouragement, and support. Our awareness of this was an incalculable source of strength, and because real love is something unselfish and involves sacrifice and giving, we could not help but profit from it." And he continued, "Beneath it all, he has tried to engender a social conscience. There were wrongs which needed attention. There were people who were poor and needed help. And we have a responsibility to them and to this country. Through no virtues and accomplishments of our own, we have been fortunate enough to be born in the United States under the most comfortable conditions. We, therefore, have a responsibility to others who are less well off." That is what Robert Kennedy was given. What he leaves to us is what he said, what he did, and what he stood for. A speech he made to the young people of South Africa on their Day of Affirmation in 1966 sums it up the best, and I would like to read it now: "There is discrimination in this world and slavery and slaughter and starvation. Governments repress their people; millions are trapped in poverty while the nation grows rich and wealth is lavished on armaments everywhere. These are differing evils, but they are the common works of man. They reflect the imperfection of human justice, the inadequacy of human compassion, our lack of sensibility towards the suffering of our fellows. But we can perhaps remember even if only for a time that those who live with us are our brothers; that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek as we do nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can. Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men. And surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again. The answer is to rely on youth not a time of life but a state of mind, a temper of the will, a quality of imagination, a predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. The cruelties and obstacles of this swiftly changing planet will not yield to the obsolete dogmas and outworn slogans. They cannot be moved by those who cling to a present that is already dying, who prefer the illusion of security to the excitement and danger that come with even the most peaceful progress. It is a revolutionary world we live in, and this generation at home and around the world has had thrust upon it a greater burden of responsibility than any generation that has ever lived. Some believe there is nothing one man or one woman can do against the enormous array of the world's ills. Yet many of the world's great movements, of thought and action, have flowed from the work of a single man. A young monk began the Protestant reformation; a young general extended an empire from Macedonia to the borders of the earth; a young woman reclaimed the territory of France; and it was a young Italian explorer who discovered the New World, and the 32 yearold Thomas Jefferson who claimed that "all men are created equal." These men moved the world, and so can we all. Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total of all those acts will be written the history of this generation. It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance. Few are willing to brave the disapproval of their fellows, the censure of their colleagues, the wrath of their society. Moral courage is a rarer commodity than bravery in battle or great intelligence. Yet it is the one essential, vital quality for those who seek to change a world that yields most painfully to change. And I believe that in this generation those with the courage to enter the moral conflict will find themselves with companions in every corner of the globe. For the fortunate among us, there is the temptation to follow the easy and familiar paths of personal ambition and financial success so grandly spread before those who enjoy the privilege of education. But that is not the road history has marked out for us. Like it or not, we live in times of danger and uncertainty. But they are also more open to the creative energy of men than any other time in history. All of us will ultimately be judged, and as the years pass we will surely judge ourselves on the effort we have contributed to building a new world society and the extent to which our ideals and goals have shaped that event. Our future may lie beyond our vision, but it is not completely beyond our control. It is the shaping impulse of America that neither fate nor nature nor the irresistible tides of history, but the work of our own hands, matched to reason and principle, that will determine our destiny. There is pride in that, even arrogance, but there is also experience and truth. In any event, it is the only way we can live." That is the way he lived. That is what he leaves us. My brother need not be idealized, or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life, to be remembered simply as a good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it. Those of us who loved him and who take him to his rest today, pray that what he was to us and what he wished for others will some day come to pass for all the world. As he said many times, in many parts of this nation, to those he touched and who sought to touch him: "Some men see things as they are and say why. I dream things that never were and say why not."

A woman needs to be emotionally, physically and intellectually stimulating to a man. I abhor any form of dumbness! I believe sister Maya Angelou said it best: PHENOMENAL WOMAN Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care. 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. :cool:

Damn BOB! You taking me back to them good olde dayz; before it became Nairobbery . you took me on a stroll back to all the idioms & lifestyle I endured. Hunting in City Park, Sun Set, jumping the fence at Pangani Girls, and many more great experiences with great friends. I went back home last year after an absence of 19 years, and I realised the great life I had while growing up. 70% of my friends died either through ukimwi or war in Somalia. The rest are in London, Stockholm, Toronto, Atlanta and Auckland. Godspeed on your meeting bruh! Nuff luv Cuz

Two men were talking to each other, when third man approaches the second man. He talks to the second man, then leaves. The first man asks the second man 'who was that person'? The second guy replies " Brothers & Sisters I have none! But That man's father is my father's son" Who was the third man?

Munira I applaud your courage & probity in taking up a noble cause. I would be truly honoured if I had a chance to paint a vibrant, yet realistic picture for your young people. Considering that they would be our future, we need to invest in them wisely. I place the blame solely on us men! Especially coming from a patriarchal society, where men used to be men. Now we roar majestically at every street corner, but nevertheless are toothless and shy from responsibility. We need to stay firm, not get too depressed and seize the opportunity to make considerable change among our people. Living in a society that is cyclical looks like we have not evolved as the rest of our peers. We put to shame the maxim ‘every generation is incrementally better than the previous one’ What saddens me is that we are a community headed to extinction due to our inability to adapt effectively, compromise with each other internally. Every other community with built in history like ourselves have flourished in their host nations, why not us? :rolleyes: :rolleyes: :confused: :confused:

I used to be a commitment phobic as little as 5 years ago. Unfortunately the tables have turned on me; I guess karma is working its magic. Its hard fitting myself into any of the sections you stated; WHICH one do YOU fall in?

Perfection is a Mirage! Human nature strives to find perfection within their ‘soul mates’, but the journey is as elusive as finding the Holy Grail. What is perfection? Are you & I perfect? We seek perfection, but abhor it when we encounter it.

I would step up to her, smile, give her a hug & kiss; ask how life has been.etc. I maintain that even though we are not a couple, I strive to stay amicable with her. I believe chivalry can not die, and that you cannot act immature & unreasonable if the relationship isn’t going your way. If she's still vibrant, i'd flirt with her to BIG-UP her Ego

Women like wine get better with Age! So I must confess, my most memorable experience was when I was 18 and the woman was 38... Those couple of months were truly earth-shattering

Munira Centuries of having a superiority complex with the view that Somalis are homogenous people. Where even though stateless, we walk around like ‘diamond mine owners’. We are like a vector persistently annoying, but rather ineffective. Living in a society that is cyclical looks like we have not evolved as the rest of our peers. We put to shame the maxim ‘every generation is incrementally better than the previous one’ I agree with you totally on the aspect of History, but where does the social responsibility lie? Your thoughts flowed freely, and I appreciate the sentiment involved and wish many expressed themselves like you did. AND DON'T GET DEPRESSED, ITS ALL PART OF THE PROGRAMME..

Whether you say it in Xhosa, Tagalog or Farsi; The Art Of Love Is Deception! Because people are insecure about their own inadequacies, the fear of exposing themselves to other beings. Expressing that they love somebody is totally alien to them, because they cannot love their ownselves.

Regarding the white woman! These days the average size is 16 in the Uk. Evans is the average woman’s store. Regarding the amount of children a white woman has, determines how she stacks on the social scale. The poorer she is the more kids she has! The cancerous moral & ethics in the diaspora is: 1. Being married illegally in the west 2. jumping bail on the children due to a lil money 3. Dropping our potential and living on DSS for ages. 4. Calling your husband your boyfriend/brother when housing benefit visit. ……. The list is too long to go on

I believe the Strong Black Women are still alive, just look at the Xalimoos pushing their push chair,drugging other two toddlers along,carrying her shopping bags,getting on a london bus..ah the strenght of that black woman!! [/QB][/quote That's a bad analogy! The one dragging 2 toddlers & an infant in a pushchair is doing so cause of Child benefit & DSS. If she knew any better, she would kick out her farax and put the kids in a creche, tie her tubes, and conquer the world. The Strong Black Woman Is Dead in The Diaspora due to cancerous morals & ethics.

I am sitting here thinking about who I am, and what I am. The journey is long and arduous. An era where our forefathers’ institution has ceased to exist. Where the basic fundamental principles instilled on generations is evaporating, where western philosophies are being adapted by our youth. Where learning is like Kryptonite to them, Where they can’t distinguish right from wrong. Where vying for kudos is the chic thing. As I take a long stroll through life’s’ predestined calamities; a cold shiver runs through my spine. I find myself wading through a vacuum filled void. I stumble upon the garden of good & evil, a place devoid of humanity, filled with malice induced phantoms. A spawning of venomous beings, each one more deadly than a Black Mamba……….

The Strong Black Woman is Dead! Author: Laini Mataka On August 15, 1999 at 11:55 p.m., while struggling with the reality of being a human instead of a myth, the strong black woman passed away, without the slightest bit of hoopla. Medical sources say that she died of natural causes, but those who knew and used her know she died from: being silent when she should have been screaming, milling when she should have been raging, being sick and not wanting anyone to know because her pain might inconvenience them. An overdose of other people clinging on to her when she didn't even have energy for herself. She died from loving men who didn't love themselves and could only offer her a crippled reflection. She died from raising children alone and for not doing a complete job. She died from the lies her grandmother told her mother and her mother told her about life, men and racism. She died from being sexually abused as a child and having to take that truth everywhere she went every day of her life, exchanging the humiliation for guilt and back again. She died from being battered by someone who claimed to love her and she allowed the battering to go on to show she loved him too. She died from asphyxiation, coughing up blood from secrets she kept trying to burn away instead of allowing herself the kind of nervous break-down she was entitled to, but only white girls could afford. She died from being responsible, because she was the last rung on the ladder and there was no one under her she could dump on. The strong black woman is dead. She died from the multiple births of children she never really wanted but was forced to have by the strangling morality of those around her. She died from being a mother at 15 and a grandmother at 30 and an ancestor at 45. She died from being dragged down and sat upon by un-evolved women posing as sisters. She died from pretending the life she was living was a Kodak moment instead of a 20th century, post-slavery nightmare!!! She died from tolerating Mr. Pitiful, just to have a man around the house. She died from lack of orgasms because she never learned what made her body happy and no one took the time to teach her and sometimes, when she found arms that were tender, she died because they belonged to the same gender. She died from sacrificing herself for everybody and everything when what she really wanted to do was be a singer, a dancer, or some magnificent other. She died from lies of omission because she didn't want to bring the black man down. She died from race memories of being snatched and snatched and raped and snatched and sold and snatched and bred and snatched and whipped and snatched and worked to death. She died from tributes from her counterparts who should have been matching her efforts instead of showering her with dead words and empty songs. She died from myths that would not allow her to show weakness without being chastised by the lazy and hazy. She died from hiding her real feelings until they became monstrously hard and bitter enough to invade her womb and breasts like angry tumors. She died from always lifting something from heavy boxes to refrigerators. The strong black woman is dead. She died from the punishments received from being honest about life, racism and men. She died from being called a ***** for being verbal, a dyke for being assertive and a whore for picking her own lovers. She died from never being enough of what men wanted, or being too much for the men she wanted. She died from being too black and died again for not being black enough. She died from castration every time somebody thought of her as only a woman, or treated her like less than a man. She died from being misinformed about her mind, her body and the extent of her royal capabilities. She died from knees pressed too close together because respect was never part of the foreplay that was being shoved at her. She died from loneliness in birthing rooms and aloneness in abortion centers. She died of shock in court rooms where she sat, alone, watching her children being legally lynched. She died in bathrooms with her veins busting open with self-hatred and neglect. She died in her mind, fighting life, racism, and men, while her body was carted away and stashed in a human warehouse for the spiritually mutilated. And sometimes when she refused to die, when she just refused to give in she was killed by the lethal images of blonde hair, blue eyes and flat butts, rejected to death by the O.J.'s , the Quincey's, and the Poitier's. Sometimes, she was stomped to death by racism and sexism, executed by hi-tech ignorance while she carried the family in her belly, the community on her head, and the race on her back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The strong silent, s**t-talking black woman is dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Or is she still alive and kicking???????????????????

Originally posted by Laba_Xiniinyood: [QB] 1. A man is walking to the town of Ipswich. He comes to a fork in the road, with the two branches leading in two different directions. He knows that one of them goes to Ipswich, but he doesn't know which one. He also knows that in the house right beside the fork in the road there are two brothers, identical twins, both of whom know the road to Ipswich. He knows that one brother always lies and the other always tells the truth, but he cannot tell them apart. What single question can he ask to whoever answers his knock on the door which will indicate to him the correct road to Ipswich? Can U Confirm! I'm 99.9% sure I got #1 right

For #1: The question you ask any of the brothers is: "If I ask Your Brother What Road Leads To Ipswich,What Road Will He Point At?" The Road he points at, you take the opposite one.

For #1: The question you ask any of the brothers is: "If I ask Your Brother What Road Leads To Ipswich,What Road Will He Point At?" The Road he points at, you take the opposite one.

#1: "If I asked your brother what road leads to Ipswich? Which road will he point at?"

I humbly pay homage to the doggerel of BOB! Damn Cuz that was Dark. I hope many others could express themselves as eloquently as you. Godspeeed & Nuff Respect