Locs, Heels, and the Bible

I have something to say about the gall of Western media to still approach formerly colonized nations with the smugness of a master quizzing a servant. The now-viral interview with President Dr. Irfaan Ali of Guyana was definitely more than just a conversation about oil and development. It exposed the festering wound of neocolonial arrogance that still believes it has the right to interrogate the dignity and direction of sovereign nations while refusing to reckon with the centuries of theft, murder, and dehumanization that built its own empires. Yes, England, I am talking about you! Dr. Ali was understood the assignment to a spade a spade regardless to who is holding the hand. What we witnessed was the spirit of resistance cloaked in a presidential suit. With unflinching clarity and righteous indignation, he named the historical theft of resources, the violence of chattel slavery, the deceit of colonialism, and the continued exploitation masquerading as investment and partnership. And s...

They didn’t tell my people that they were free, right away. Even after the ink dried on the Emancipation Proclamation, they didn't tell them. Not even after the blood spilled and bodies piled in the name of a nation supposedly united under liberty and justice were they told. Instead, the power-brokers waited and held freedom hostage behind borders of greed, ego, and entitlement. And on June 19, 1865 - two and a half years later - when word finally reached the shores of Galveston, Texas, it wasn’t because the enslaved had been seen as human. It was because their labor was no longer useful, their bondage no longer profitable, and their bodies no longer essential to the overall goal. The story of Juneteenth is that of a freedom which was announced late, thus postponing justice, and forcing liberation to find its own breath after being suffocated for centuries. Here we are in 2025 watching an administration strip away aid to vulnerable nations, criminalize immigrants, roll back civil r...

I wrote "Tears at the Altar" because the silence was suffocating me, and my voice was missing from the conversations about grief.  There are certain stories that demand to be told. They are not satisfied with being whispered, scribbled into private journals, or diluted for someone else’s comfort. This book is one of those stories. It was born from a collision of love, loss, and lament in a sacred space that should have held me - and didn’t. Tears at the Altar is not just about my personal grief; it is a public reckoning. It’s a confrontation with how the church - our supposed refuge - often fails those who bleed in the pews and behind the pulpit. It explores how we, as communities of faith, avoid what is raw and messy, how we offer platitudes instead of presence, and how we bypass lament instead of allowing it to become part of our worship expression. Yes, I name names - grief, betrayal, silence, shame - and I hold them in the light of Scripture. From Job to Jesus, I make it ...

One day, the nation woke up to an ultimate heartbreak. After days of frantic searching, nine-year-old Chantel Crump was found lifeless in the bushes of Weatherills. Her abduction had mobilized the entire community, and her death shattered it. Chantel had simply been walking home from school when she accepted a ride from a woman. She trusted, as children should be able to, and for that, her life was stolen, along with a piece of Antigua's innocence. The island wept for Chantel and the others who have either disappeared without a trace, or found murdered and mutilated. You see, Antigua’s soil holds the tears of too many. Just months earlier, teenagers Yenifer Bridge and Achazia James were found murdered. Yenifer, a 16-year-old mother, disappeared one night and her toddler son was found wandering alone. Her body, later recovered, bore signs of brutal violence. Achazia, only 15, was found mutilated on a beach, the wounds so telling, they spoke of a wickedness the island still can...

Good Friday was never apolitical. From the beginning, and certainly from the moment Jesus stood trial before Pilate, the cross became its usual site of death and a symbol of empire - the brutality of state-sanctioned execution, and the lengths to which the powerful will go to preserve themselves. Good Friday is the state at its worst, colluding with religion to silence the disruptive, to crucify the liberator, and to make a spectacle of justice-turned-on-its-head. Luke 23 drips with irony and political theatre. Jesus - nonviolent, prophetic, healing the sick, feeding the hungry - is accused of inciting revolt . The charge is deeply  political . “He stirs up the people,” they say, “teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee to this place”. 'Stirring up the people' can get you lynched under empire. Jesus was lynched by a coalition of political elites and religious leaders because his presence disrupted the order of things. He refused to play nice with Rome, and exposed corrupt...

Lately, I've been wondering a lot whether ignorance can be cauterized. Ignorance, in its most insidious form, is the willful rejection of knowledge and growth. It is a seething wound, that is festering beneath layers of propaganda, fear, and historical amnesia. And today, in the shadow of a regime that echoes some of the most terrifying chapters of human history, have been asking: Can ignorance be cauterized? Can it be seared shut, burned away like diseased flesh to prevent further infection, or are we already too far gone, consumed by a sickness we refuse to diagnose? Because, the way some people are acting as if any of the nonsense is defensible, I am shuddering as if somebody just dropped ice cubes down my drawers. The current state of this nation is not the result of a single election, a single figure, or even a single party. It is the product of a slow, deliberate erosion of basic decency. Decades of revisionist history, corporate-controlled media, and an education system g...