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life kesi cheez hai? PUSSY. and thats what its all about ;)
real-hiphophead:

GIVEAWAY
Blu & Exile - Give Me My Flowers While I Can Still Smell Them
Limited Edition Cassette
The Rules: It’s simple, as always. Reblog the photo, and be following the page, to be entered. No more than 1 reblog per day. Contest goes until July 24th. I’ll pick the winner on July 25th. Good luck.

real-hiphophead:

GIVEAWAY

Blu & Exile - Give Me My Flowers While I Can Still Smell Them

Limited Edition Cassette

The Rules: It’s simple, as always. Reblog the photo, and be following the page, to be entered. No more than 1 reblog per day. Contest goes until July 24th. I’ll pick the winner on July 25th. Good luck.

(via hiphoplaboratory)

wakeupslaves:

Gandhi Spreads Racial Hatred of Africans

Gandhi was passionately prejudiced towards black Africans, as clearly displayed by his own writings over his 21-year stint in Gandhi’s writings during his 20 years in South Africa. He promoted racial hatred, in theory, and campaigned for racial segregation, in practice. In his newspaper, The Indian Opinion, he frequently wrote diatribes against the black community. Of particular concern to him was any contact between Indians and Africans. The following series of quotes, which is but a small selection of his extensive writings on the topic, documents Gandhi’s intense hatred for equal treatment of blacks and Indians, whether in culture or under the law. Indeed, his efforts to improve the status of the Indian community in South Africa were primarily focused on ensuring Africans were treated worse than Indians. His goal, thus was greater social inequality rather than universal equality.

All quotes taken from Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi (CWMG).

Sept. 26, 1896: “Ours is one continual struggle against a degradation sought to be inflicted upon us by the Europeans, who desire to degrade us to the level of the raw Kaffir* whose occupation is hunting, and whose sole ambition is to collect a certain number of cattle to buy a wife with and, then, pass his life in indolence and nakedness.” — Vol. 1, p. 410

Sept. 24, 1903: “We believe as much in the purity of race as we think they do… We believe also that the white race of South Africa should be the predominating race.” — Vol. 3, p. 256

Feb. 15, 1904: “Under my suggestion, the Town Council must withdraw the Kaffirs from the Location. About this mixing of the Kaffirs with the Indians, I must confess I feel most strongly. I think it is very unfair to the Indian population.” — Vol. 3, p. 429

Sept. 5, 1905: “The decision to open the school for all Coloured children is unjust to the Indian community, and is a departure from the assurance given… that the school will be reserved for Indian children only.” — Vol. 4, p. 402

Sept. 2, 1907: “From these views expressed by a White we have a lesson to learn: We must encourage the Whites too. It is a short-sighted policy to employ, through sheer niggardliness, a Kaffir for washing work. If we keep in view the conditions in this country and patronize the Whites, whenever proper and necessary, then every such White will serve as an advertisement for the Indian trader.” — Vol. 6, p. 276

Feb. 29, 1908: “The British rulers take us to be so lowly and ignorant that they assume that, like the Kaffirs who can be pleased with toys and pins, we can also be fobbed off with trinkets.” — Vol. 8, p. 167

Mar. 7, 1908: “We were all prepared for hardships, but not quite for this experience. We could understand not being classed with the whites, but to be placed on the same level with the Natives seemed too much to put up with.” — Vol. 8, p. 198

Mar. 7, 1908: “Kaffirs are as a rule uncivilised – the convicts even more so…. The reader can easily imagine the plight of the poor Indian thrown into such company!” — Vol. 8, p. 199

Jan. 16, 1909: “I have, though, resolved in my mind on an agitation to ensure that Indian prisoners are not lodged with Kaffirs…. I observed with regret that some Indians were happy to sleep in the same room as the Kaffirs…. This is a matter of shame to us. We may entertain no aversion to Kaffirs, but we cannot ignore the fact that there is no common ground between them and us in the daily affairs of life.” — Vol. 9, p. 257

Jan. 23, 1909: “I acquainted the Governor with what had happened and told him there was urgent need for separate lavatories for Indians. I also told him that Indian prisoners should never be lodged with Kaffirs. The Governor immediately issued an order for a lavatory for Indians to be sent on from the Central Gaol. Thus, from the next day the difficulty about lavatories disappeared.” — Vol. 9, p. 270

June 5, 1909: “I received from General Smuts two books on religion, and I inferred from this that it was not under his orders that I had been subjected to hardships, but that it was the result of his negligence and that of others, as also a consequence of the fact that we are equated with the Kaffirs.” — Vol. 9, p. 355

Dec. 2, 1910: “Some Indians do have contacts with Kaffir women. I think such contacts are fraught with grave danger. Indians would do well to avoid them altogether.” — Vol. 10, p. 414

The term “Kaffir” is a pejorative South African term for black people which is equivalent to the ‘n’ word. Use of this term has been a criminal offense in South Africa since 1975. Despite always using it to describe black Africans, Gandhi was fully aware of the offensive nature of the word. This is demonstrated by Gandhi’s comment during a religious conflict in India, when he said: “If ‘Kaffir’ is a term of opprobrium, how much more so is Chandal?” [CWMG, Vol. 28, p. 62] “Chandal” is a racist term for low-caste Hindus.

(via xiaheart)

Here’s to the security guards who maybe had a degree in another land. Here’s to the manicurist who had to leave her family to come here, painting the nails, scrubbing the feet of strangers. Here’s to the janitors who don’t even fucking understand English yet work hard despite it all. Here’s to the fast food workers who work hard to see their family smile. Here’s to the laundry man at the Marriott who told me with the sparkle in his eyes how he was an engineer in Peru. Here’s to the bus driver, the Turkish Sufi who almost danced when I quoted Rumi. Here’s to the harvesters who live in fear of being deported for coming here to open the road for their future generation. Here’s to the taxi drivers from Nigeria, Ghana, Egypt and India who gossip amongst themselves. Here is to them waking up at 4am, calling home to hear the voices of their loved ones. Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and rebels. Here’s to Western Union and Money Gram. For never forgetting home. Here’s to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on.

Immigrants. First generation.


Ijeoma Umebinyuo.

(via theijeoma)

(via xiaheart)

Anonymous asked: You're really just looking for something else to complain about bc you probably ran out of shit to bitch about from your amazing life :((((((( poor you, people appreciate your culture :((;;;

nayi-jagriti:

j4ya:

Okay. Okay, sure, let’s talk about my amazing life.

Yeah, I came to the states at the age of 6. I was immediately enrolled into elementary school. Even though I had completed first grade and was set to start second, they told me I had to take first grade over again because they didn’t know if my education was up to/matched with American standards. Do you know what being educated overseas is like, especially in Asia? (Let me guess—you probably don’t.) I was bilingual by the time I was 4/5. We learn twice the amount Americans do. That was the first time I was told that my upbringing, my culture, was not important.

I started going to grade school and right off the bat, the first things the kids noticed about me, of course, was my thick Indian accent. Teachers scolded the children who made fun of me, but they never once tried to assure me that the way I spoke was okay. I was corrected, coached, and taught to speak ‘American’ so well that by the time I turned 10, no one believed I had moved here from India. And that was considered good. I learned that the way I spoke was wrong, and to be respected and accepted by my peers, I had to erase a huge link to my cultural background.

That wasn’t it, though. My mom made some of my clothes, because she was great at sewing, and it did save us a lot of money, but unfortunately, India was a few years behind on fashion and a lot of Indian clothing for children is fairly unisex/gender-neutral, so people made fun of me for the way I dressed—in plain, gender-neutral clothing—because I didn’t ‘look like a girl’. 

I had oil put in my hair—it’s a great treatment for all hair, it really nourishes the scalp. But girls called my hair oily, greasy, smelly. Honestly, it was probably healthier than all their hair combined. And today? These girls are climbing over each other to find organic coconut oil to use on their weak, brittle, dead hair to try and make it look like mine.

My mom cooked a lot in our apartment, and sure, you guys are great with eating Indian food when you go out to eat, but do you know how much work it takes? Our whole apartment would fill up with the mouth-watering smells of spices and dishes my mom made but if I showed up to school with the smell on my clothes, kids declared that I was smelly. I smelled like food, the same food, mind you, that these kids would grow up to love to eat every time they went out to eat at their local Indian restaurant, but they saw it as disgusting, because in their households, with their bland white bread and dry-ass meatloaf, they honestly had no idea what it took to flavor a meal. 

Worse than that, I brought some Indian food to lunch, and all the girls at my table made a face. They called it weird and gross, and actually made me pine and desire for their boring two-ingredient sandwiches. I had to tell my mom to stop packing me food that looked and smelled Indian for school, and though I didn’t really notice it at the time, today I can clearly remember how heartbroken she was upon hearing that from me. She struggled to teach herself American cuisine so that I would not feel uncomfortable at school. She did that. For me. I’m tearing up right now typing this, because she knew how desperate I was to make friends, and she taught herself all this for me. 

Growing up was not easy for me. I had to fight through a lot to be comfortable with myself, my identity, my culture, and my upbringing. Even today it’s not easy. Do you know the pressure on Indian kids to succeed, especially academically? One time I forgot to do a sheet of homework in 5th grade and rather than taking the late slip to my mom to have her sign it—because I knew I’d be in trouble—I forged her signature to get out of it. At only 10 years old. That’s how scared I was of messing up in school. That’s the kind of pressure there is on us. 

But at the same time, you want us to be happy with you people, to smile at you people, the same people who, when we were growing up, bullied us without mercy, made fun of how we were raised, made us embarrassed for you to come over and catch a whiff of our fragrant kitchens, made us change our lunches, our hairstyles, our clothes, just to appease you. So fuck you. Fuck you and your stupid ‘appreciation’ of my culture. You only choose to appreciate it now that you can see the value of it, but if you were not able to appreciate it years ago, when I was just a 7-year-old immigrant girl crying alone on the blacktop because no one would be friends with me, then you sure as hell do not have the fucking right to appreciate it now, let alone come to me and mock me for having no troubles in my life, especially since people like you were the cause of all my troubles growing up.

Much more of this please

fotojournalismus:

Scars show as Gaza’s children endure third war (via AP)

The children of the Attar clan have lived through three wars in just over five years, each time fleeing their homes as Israel bombarded their neighbourhood in the Palestinian Gaza Strip.

They live in Atatra, a neighbourhood in northeastern Gaza, just a few hundred meters from Israel. Residents of Atatra fled their homes in Israel’s three-week military offensive in the winter of 2008-2009, during a week of cross-border fighting in November 2012 and again over the weekend.

After Israeli aircraft dropped leaflets over Atatra on Saturday warning residents to leave, sisters Mariam and Sada Attar bundled a few belongings into plastic bags and rushed out of their homes. They had 10 children in tow, as well as Mariam’s husband Omar, who she said suffers from stress-induced psychological disorders and can no longer function normally.

Their psychological scars show. Some act out, others cling to their mothers or withdraw, like 12-year-old Ahmed who sat by himself on a bench in the courtyard of a U.N. school where his family once again sought shelter.

"They bombed very close to my house," said the boy, looking down and avoiding eye contact. "I’m scared."

Experts said it will be increasingly difficult to heal such victims of repeated trauma.

"For the majority of the children (in Gaza), it is the third time around," said Bruce Grant, the chief of child protection for the Palestinian territories in the United Nation’s children’s agency, UNICEF. "It reduces their ability to be resilient and to bounce back. Some will not find their way back to a sense of normalcy. Fear will become their new norm."

The families sought shelter in the same U.N. school where they stayed during the previous two rounds of fighting. In all, 20 U.N. schools took in more than 17,000 displaced Gazans, many of them children, after Saturday’s warnings by Israel that civilians must clear out of northern Gaza.

Members of the Attar clan took over part of the second floor, with more than 40 people sleeping in each classroom. Mariam, Sada, Omar and the children were squeezed into one half of a room, their space demarcated by benches. Another family from the clan stayed in the other half of the room. A blanket draped across an open doorway offered the only measure of privacy.

In the classroom, the scene was chaotic, with children pushing and shoving each other and mothers yelling at them to behave. There was nothing to do for children or grown-ups, except to wait.

Mariam Attar, 35, said they spent the night on the hard floor for lack of mattresses.

She sat on the floor, her back leaning against a wall, and held her youngest, 16-month-old Mahmoud. She said her older children have become clingy, some asking that she accompany them to the communal toilet.

Recalling the latest bombings, she said: “We felt the house was going to fall on top of us and so the children started to scream. I was screaming and my husband was screaming.”

Her 14-year-old son Mohammed said the family cowered on the ground in the living room during the bombing to avoid being hit by shrapnel. He said the time passed slowly because they had no electricity or TV.

Mohammed and Ahmed, who is from another branch of the clan, said they and other children often play “Arabs and Jews,” fighting each other with toy guns or wooden sticks as make-believe weapons. Arabs always win, the boys said.

Rasem Shamiya, a counselor who works for the U.N. school system, said many of the children show signs of trauma, including trouble paying attention, aggressive behavior or avoiding contact with others. “They are very stressed,” he said. “Since these children were born, they have never known peace.”

According to figures released by the United Nations’ Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), 80 percent of the fatalities caused by Israeli air strikes in the Gaza Strip have been civilians. More than 20 percent were children. The organization also estimates 25,300 children are in need of psychosocial support.

The children’s fears are very real and parents in Gaza are increasingly unable to reassure them, said Pierre Krahenbuhl, who heads the U.N. agency that provides aid to Palestinian refugees.

"Today, we met with families who shared with us that they have simply no more answers to give when the children ask them why are the homes shaking, why is there so much destruction," he said.

Sada Attar, 43, said she worries her children and others in that generation will come to see violence as normal.

"These disturbed children are not going to be good for Israel’s long term interests," she said. "The child will naturally rise up and confront the Zionist enemy with the stone, with fire, with everything in their power."

Photos taken by Associated Press photographer Khalil Hamra on July 14, 2014 at the New Gaza Boys United Nations school, where dozens of families have sought refuge after fleeing their home in fear of Israeli airstrikes.

(via xiaheart)