On America’s 250th Birthday I Contend with Christian Nationalism and What it Means for my Faith

I am many things. Nigerian. American. Political Scientist. Writer. Friend. Sister. Daughter. And here is one you may not expect to see: I am a spirit-filled, born-again Christian. I do not say that lightly. When I say I am a Christian, I don’t just mean that I identify as one culturally, the way two-thirds of Americans do or that my parents are Christians and raised me as one. No, I mean I study the Bible, I meditate on God’s word daily, and I am eternally, desperately committed to pleasing God and obeying his commandments—loving Him and loving people.  As any honest Christian would tell you, I struggle but if there is a “Christian tenet” you better believe I abide by it or at least try to. If anyone could revel and boast in their extreme commitment to strictly obeying the law, it would be me. I say none of this to boast. I say this in the spirit of Apostle Paul who said he was a pure-blooded Jew, a real Hebrew, if there ever was one, in response to the Jews—mutilators, Paul called them—who were dogged in their belief that to be saved and accepted into the fold of faith, you had to be circumcised. Paul brought a radical idea: salvation belongs to both the Jew and the Gentile. 

America is an experiment, founded on a premise of democratic ideals and principles like the rule of law, equality, liberty. It is the only country where this starry-eyed daughter of Nigerian immigrants could embody the spirit of resilience and grit and hard work it holds so that in so many ways, I become American.  So that in fully embracing this spirit, in accepting the promise and opportunity of America, I can embrace its complexity and multi-dimensionality and what does it produce in me?  It reinforces these same ideals and values that light up my torch to expect change and progress. It seduces me into an unwavering faith in its institutions especially as they stand in stark contrast with those I grew up with in Nigeria. 

A New York Knicks' Historic Win and Why It Reminded me of Traditional Yoruba Culture

In traditional Yoruba culture, when they coronated a new king, there was always a particular attention paid to the affairs of the kingdom in the early parts of his reign. If after he became king, there was peace, success, prosperity, abundance, healthy children, and just general good vibes in the land, then his own destiny was fortunate. The idea was that the kingdom thriving and prospering after he was crowned king meant that he came with good fortune. On the other hand, if after they made him king, there was famine, widespread disease, unrest, random misfortunes and defeats, then something was spiritually wrong with that king. He had bad luck.

In that sense, he wasn't just a political leader. He was also sacred, and his spiritual condition, his fate, was deeply intertwined with the wellbeing of the land and the people. 

Igbá Kejì Oọ̀ṣà: next in command to the deities or second-in-command to the gods.

After fifty-three years, the New York Knicks won the NBA championships this past weekend. And the spirit, the joie de vivre, the celebration, outburst of positivity, coming together, unity are so tear jerking, it's hard to encapsulate them in words. Someone who's been particularly proud of them is their mayor, Zohran Mamdani. As I saw New Yorkers take the streets and spread joy and laughter like wildfire, I couldn't help but make the connection. I couldn't help but think this man, who has secured a billion dollar investment in childcare, fixed over ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND potholes, invested in affordable home-care among others in just SIX MONTHS, has also brought his people good luck. 

"My mayor's muslim, my bagel's jewish, my christian dior, Knicks in four!" - MD Ahnaf Hossain, a 23-year-old Knicks fan.

New York is one of the most diverse cities in the world and it has thrived, not despite, but because of its diversity. Pakistanis, Black folks, Indians, Jews, Haitians, Bengalis, Italians, Africans, White folks, Christians, Buddhists, whatever the race, creed, religion, you will find it in New York and they exist and THRIVE side by side. It's the perfect beautiful depiction of how God created this earth. Somehow, hate has thrived so much in recent years, that this particular America has been forgotten. That specie of greatness, that DNA sequence of America that had made it so exceptional has now being ridiculed by hateful people.  What a joy to be reminded  of real American greatness this weekend. What a joy to see people be so brought together because of sports. 

In Yoruba ancient kingdoms, the ruler's destiny and the destiny of the kingdom are linked. It was the king's responsibility to maintain harmony between human beings, the ancestors, and the gods. When there is joy, when there is abundance, when there is peace, when there is lightness, it's all evidence that the king has brought good luck and is a spiritually legitimate reign. 

Now, my rational self knows that what happened in the ancient Yoruba kingdoms was good governance; that a strategic and good leader yielded benefits, and conversely, a poor leader did the opposite.

My faithful spiritual (Christian, in this case) self, however, will never underestimate the power of grace and favor.

There was some kind of misfortune that told Yoruba people a leader's favor with spiritual forces was in jeopardy.  If a king was out of favor with the spiritual realm, everyone in that land suffered. Everyone. When barely minutes after a leader is inaugurated, a freak mid-air collision between an airplane and a military helicopter kills too many people; when a once-in-a lifetime pandemic strikes in the first reign of a leader and consumes millions of lives; and in the second reign of the same leader, another deadly disease (two actually) starts making the rounds; when depression increases; when food is so expensive, people have to start making videos on how to ration; when wars won't stop...well, friends, if this were an ancient Yoruba kingdom, we would conclude there is a cloud of bad omen following the leader. It was so bad that the one game the Knicks lost had this man sitting there.

Selah.

A leader's reign and his spiritual state directly reflect on the prosperity (or lack of ) of the land. You can't tell me any different.

Congratulations again to the New York Knicks!

Love,

I

The Rulebreaker: What Breaking the Rules Robs You Of

There is something about ambition; the way it gnaws at you, morphs into its own beast eats you from within, then chews you up from inside and when it's done with you, you'd be so lucky if you even recognize yourself.

In Susan Page's biography of Barbara Walters, Rulebreaker, Walters' ambition is forceful, it's desperate, thorough, and at some point maybe a little pathetic. And yet, I came out of it with full respect for the force of this person, who was a fearless pioneer for women in broadcasting, even when she didn't necessarily want to be. 

In Memory of 2025

The last time I did this end of the year review style post was in 2020, a year that will go down in history  for everything it was. I mostly stopped doing those year-end reflections because of how self-conceited they felt. But in 2020, I made an exception. Sometimes, I think about the collective grief and trauma of 2020 and I just wonder if the current zeitgeist is essentially all one glob of post traumatic stress disorder. Who knows?

2025 feels like a year to reflect on.

In Nicholas Kristof's reflection on 2025 in the New York Times, where he tried to convince us that 2025 was not that bad, someone commented:

"I suffered through ten months of chemo this year, and yet, I still think Trump was the worst part of this year for me." NYT Comment Section.

On August 20, a woman, holding her child, wept outside a federal building in New York City, after ICE agents detained her husband. A nearby security guard was also moved to tears as he watched the scene unfold. Photographer: Carol Guzy.

I could end this post there and you'd understand what a year this has been. It felt like no matter the ray of sunshine, no matter the clouds of hope, no matter the glimmer of positivity, this administration worked deliberately to douse it all with a darkness of gloom. 

On January 19th, 2025, I told everyone who would listen that I was desperate to not give my attention to these people. That no matter what they did I would not let them steal my joy; more importantly, I was not going to let them have my peace. I admonished people close to me. I said,  "I want every Black person I know to hold our peace. It’s not worth the trouble. They want to be a spectacle, they want to disrupt our joy. We must ignore them." The problem was, we couldn't. We could not possibly ignore an administration that made it their mission to take a chainsaw, sometimes quite literally, to everything. 

I gave in to despair. 

For as long as I can remember, I've always believed in service. It's true. This is not one of those trying-to-sound-good type of declaration. I fiercely believe in using my God-given skills and expertise and all my education (over a decade of post-secondary education, might I add) in contributing to the greater good. When some of my own academic and professional pursuits almost destroyed me, I held on because I believed I was doing it all towards service. The reason I feel comfortable making this assertion so publicly is I'm not alone in this. Almost everyone I've met in my professional journey is fiercely passionate about serving the American people or more like, dutifully representing the American people while serving a more global population. So when they took a chainsaw to these very beliefs, to institutions I have believed in since I was sentient enough to believe anything; when I saw communities desecrated, lives destroyed; when I saw the vicious attack on people who have dedicated their lives to service, I could no longer hold the faith. My professional community was attacked at unprecedented levels and there was nothing we could do about it. All based on lies.

Here what I will say to you all, as you see all those lies about USAID or federal workers or all the other institutions designed to protect everyday Americans, remember that lies speed, they hop, jump, fly, travel fast, but truth? Goodness, truth crawls behind, taking forever to catch up. 

I gave in to despair.

I wish I had neater words with which to convey the pain this administration has caused whether at home or abroad. I wish I could wield the might of my keystrokes, demonstrating the needless cruelty of this band of oligarchs, most of whom profess the Christian faith. How can I? How can I tell you of the woman who wailed as they pulled her and her child away from her husband who was being deported; of the man who had spent over 5 decades in America and was deported to Eswatini, a country he had never heard of; of the staggering levels of unemployment among Black women; of the incessant bullying; of watching them shout at and belittle the president of a sovereign nation (a grown ass man) in front of the whole world; of retrenching funds for [PEDIATRIC] cancer research; of gutting funding that transformed lives in the poorest societies; of the firing of Black military leaders at an unprecedented level; of firing over 80,000 Veterans Affairs staff (many of whom were veterans themselves); of the senseless tarriffs; of everything. I couldn't. I can't.

That was 2025.

2025 was a tough professional year, and not just because of everything I have written above. I started this year anxious, sad. I was being viciously attacked at work.  As with all forms of harassment and bullying, I felt it physically. The lies being told against me; the deliberate conspiracies to undermine me and my leadership; the simple, run of the mill racism; the way the attacks piled on;  all because I was being myself. I said to someone at work, this is a lynching. Oh, it was.

And yet, 2025 was my best professional year.

It's how God writes our story. If I told the exact narrative; the turn of events; the divine intervention that shielded me, you would never believe me. I said here that the difference a year can make is staggering. Spotify said my top song was Favor by Lawrence Oyor, (and my listening age is 70! ha!!) and indeed God's favor surrounded me this year. I can't quite explain that either. I just know joy does come in the morning. I just know the sun will always rise again. When it did rise, I couldn't trust it. I didn't want to. And yet, I still feel it bouncing off my face, bright, pointed, beaming, reminding me it's here to stay.

For with God, nothing will be impossible. Luke 1:37. 

We have three more years of the Trump administration and I cannot promise to never again give in. After all, I live in a country where a man, who said Black women did not have the brain processing power to be taken seriously, was lauded a hero, a saint, a martyr. And that's nowhere near the most heartbreaking thing to happen this year: the injustice, the lack and inequality, the consequences of the inepitude. So of course, things will happen. I know though that I will always run to God. My situation at work is now so perfect I'm afraid to move, as if doing so would cause me to trip into another nightmare  in which  the ghosts of racists past would hold out their pitchforks again, forcefully asking that I be gotten rid off. 

I always felt joy. 

I finally got a diagnosis to health problems I've dealt with since puberty. Anyone struggling for as much and as long as I did would tell you there is a point where even just getting answers to what has burdened you for most of your life is relief enough. I took care of my body with the precision of an athlete, and saw healthy improvements and management of said health problem. Proving again that nothing beats FIBER (25g minimum for women and 30g minimum for men), protein, some cardio, lots of weights/strength, drinking water, reading, and minding everyone’s business. If you have only one goal in 2026, let it be consuming more fiber.  I started learning to swim (I have to write about this!). I got my cholesterol down to the lowest in my adult years through lifestyle changes alone (I WILL SHOUT THIS FROM THE ROOFTOPS always).  I can't say I learned about people because nothing was revealed this year about anyone that I didn't already know. 

That was also 2025.

Best of all, this year my niece was born. 

So no matter all of what I wrote above: my niece, my niece, my niece. She colored most of 2025 and from the moment we knew of her; when she was only just an idea to us; when she was still in the seclusion of her mother's womb; when we oohh'd and aahh'd at black and white ultrasound images; when we marveled at the intensity with which our heart contracted with love for her; our lives were already forever changed. Now, every smile, every tear, every groan, every twitch of those big beautiful eyes remind us of endless possibilities, endless joy, endless promise, and endless reminders of a most wonderful, most perfect God. 

A reminder of a good God.

And that also was 2025.

Friends, have a great new year ahead. It will always be well.

Love,

I

Is There Hope?

It's Friday, instead of the typical Friday Reflections, let's ramble chat instead. Ha! 

I've got a lot on my mind recently but don't we all? 

I started writing this on Friday and only got to write two lines before I had to go back to work. I tried writing this on Saturday and had to upload this video, which kept failing so I spent my entire evening fixing that. Absolutely maddening. This is why I just write because all the other things are mad aggravating. I recorded like three takes, finally got a take that works, uploaded, and oops would not work no matter what I tried. Anyway, finally got it to work. So watch, watch, watch, comment, like, you know. Please encourage me because yo, those things are tough. 

And now, it is Sunday. So let's get on with this, shall we?

Why America's Past is Prologue: The Poison of Hate and Justice Defies Time

If care isn't taken, past becomes prologue was all I thought about as I read Rachel Maddow's Prequel. I have talked about it briefly before during a book of the month  and promised to return to discuss it. It's almost eerie to read about this within our reality in America today. If care isn't taken past becomes prologue. If someone would have told me that America's institutions could be so pushed beyond its limits, I would roll my eyes at them. I wouldn't completely dismiss them because I, of all people, should know how fragile democracy is and can be. I was always so sure America's was not as durable as Americans believed but I never realized the extent to which it was weak and vulnerable. 

What Rachel Maddow's Prequel teaches is that none of this is new. In a very twisted way, it almost encourages me that we will survive this era. But then was it as rotten as it currently is? Every single branch of our government is compromised and we have ourselves to blame. When you elect someone who is a convicted felon to the highest office of the land, you must know he will infect that office and all it stands for with his rot. Maddow makes the case that because America has previously fought tenaciously against fascism, we can be sure to win contemporary iterations of this same fight. When I first started reading, somehow, it gave me faith (and Lord knows this is few and far in between nowadays). During the course of my reading this, America swore in its 47th president. Within one week of this administration, we saw a roll back in democratic principles like never before imagined: DOJ staffers that worked with Jack Smith fired, Inspector Generals fired without due course; the heard of the National Labor Relations Board, also fired; a sweeping desecration of the federal civil service; the head of the Bureau of Labor Statistics was also fired because they released job numbers the president didn't like; the President fired Kennedy Center's leadership and named himself as the lead; the President deployed [and is planning to deploy more of] the National Guard to cities that voted Blue; the President is taking election advice from a former KGB agent and now ruthless dictator, Putin, to name a few. This is discounting how the wealthiest in our nations have assumed power. I say this to say I disagree with this core premise of Rachel Maddow's argument. My confidence in our institutions are terribly shaken and I fear that our institutions will not survive unscathed, if at all they survive. 

"The fight here at home in the 1930s and 1940s is a story of American politics at the edge: a violent, ultra-right authoritarian movement, weirdly infatuated with foreign dictatorships, with detailed plans to overthrow the U.S. government, and even with former American military officers who stood ready to lead. Their most audacious plan called for mounting hundreds of simultaneous armed attacks on U.S. government targets..."

What Prequel shows us that even the mechanisms are the same. During the Second World War, the German government and its agents in the United States funded a propaganda machine like never before to divide Americans, knowing that what is divided can never stand. Joseph Goebbels announced at the Nazi Party Congress in 1936, "propaganda helped us to power. Propaganda kept us in power. Propaganda will help us conquer the world." They understood their enemies in ways that can never be overstated. They knew that the best way to destroy America was from within, was to orchestrate a machinery so destructive, America would have no choice but implode. Hitler said, "our strategy is to destroy the enemy from within, to conquer him through himself." And they did just that. They spared no expense when it came to infiltrating the public and their big weapon was the media. Their agents paid myriad of publications whose editors and publishers then help consolidate a mailing lists of Americans to the tune of millions of people. They also funded radio stations with the same message.

If it sounds familiar, it's because yet again for the past few years, mis/disinformation has become the biggest threat to humanity. Whether it's launching campaigns to sabotage public health during a once in a lifetime pandemic or it is flooding our algorithms so that a person can further spiral in their self-perpetuating echo chamber of confirmation bias loop or infiltrating money in politics so that candidates who erode freedom, democracy, and unity can win...it is a fight for humanity's survival. I am not exaggerating. They know that once we are divided we will never stand. For as long as we refuse to see how much more we the masses have in common than the oligarchs, for as long as we refuse to hold the powers that be accountable, for as long as we appeal to the lowest common denominator among as, for as long as we are blinded by hate and bigotry, the machinery of tyranny, or warmongering, of cruelty will win.

The insidiousness, the poison of racism and oppression and injustice defies time. When Theodore Roosevelt became president, he  apparently was super passionate about one thing: eradicating "race suicide." What is race suicide, you ask? He was angry that White Americans were mixing their genes too freely with other folks, inviting this "race suicide." He wanted white women to have more 100 percent pure white babies. "Warfare of the cradle is fundamentally infinitely more important than any other question in this country," Teddy Roosevelt said. Maddow argues Teddy was not alone in this. Abraham Lincoln also expressed hopes that all people of "African descent living in the United States would one day be shipped overseas."  Teddy held the opinion that the two races, equally free, cannot live in the same government. Woodrow Wilson in 1913, resegregated the federal workforce by law, and purged Black Americans from the best and best-paying government jobs. Calvin Coolidge in 1924 signed radical restrictions on immigration  because such restrictions where the first step in walling off white America from the "vicious, the weak of the body, the shiftless or the improvident whom you could identify by nationality and skin color. These are racial considerations too grave to be brushed aside for any sentimental reasons."

That is the foundation of this country. That is the premise that so many Americans idolize. That is the America they want to go back to. The greatness they see when they envision America.  

It is no longer enough to just scroll through tweets or absentmindedly. We must equip ourselves with knowledge. We must go seeking history to understand the foundations of evil in the world we live in. So for my Nigerian brothers and sisters who are consumed with people's sexuality and want to see a world where that is legislated. Here is what I will never stop reminding people: hate is indiscriminate. You can't parcel it. It's not a la carte. If someone hates gay people, they almost always hate us Black folks too. And women. And immigrant. It is a package deal. Hate is also senseless. Because how do you explain that the U.S. Supreme Court once held that Puerto Ricans were "foreign to the United States in a domestic sense." Does that make any sense?

"One big appeal of fascism, if nothing else, was its unapologetic embrace of cruelty. Cruelty toward others, coupled with hypersensitivity towards any slide to oneself."

When you read Maddow's book, what stands out are the Americans who decided BY ALL MEANS possible to stop fascism.  There are people fighting now too. Just as in the 1940s, there are smart, courageous, tenacious, self-sacrificing Americans fighting hard to stop fascism, cruelty, and hate in its tracks. Will you join them? In 2023, Freedom House reported that almost 2/3 of the word was governed under some form of authoritarian rule. It would be naive to think we are exempt from this disease. Rachel Maddow's book is a must read and yet I fear we are too late. She sounds an alarm too many people have tuned out. Why do we not care who runs our societies? Why do we allow a few powerful wealthy fascists have all the control, while we fold our arms and shrug? Why?

I wish I had clear cut answers for you. I wish I could lay it down so easily. I can't. I know we can fight and we can resist. I know we must not give up. I know it's a long, arduous journey. I know we will survive. I just don't know the simple, easy answer. I don't know why evil seems to triumph over good. I don't know why it seems like the wicked enjoy a life of ease. But God sees all.

At the end of Prequel, Rachel Maddow gives a quick account of the aftermath of the most disgusting fascists and bigots who spent their time fueling hate and propaganda to divide Americans and who were dogged in their commitment to fascism in America. One was jailed and when he got out his wife had left him and sold all his earthly possessions (donating the proceeds to Jewish and Catholic refugee groups) and when he died, despite his professional accomplishment his obituary merely referred to him as a "white supremacist and antisemite." It got even more pathetic as she relayed their accounts. God cannot be mocked. What you sow, you will reap.

Love,

I

From Temi Otedola to Taylor Swift: Our Dangerous Obsession with the Rich

Over the past couple of weeks or so, it came out that Otedola's daughter, Temi Otedola, had gotten married to Nigerian musician, Mr. Eazi. Honestly,  that's really all you need to know about this whole thing. The pictures were on Vogue. Of course, I did not actually go to the website (nor did I do so even now as I link for you all) because I did not care. I saw the photos everywhere else. They looked elegant and beautiful and expensive, I said to myself and kept it moving. That should be all, right? Wrong. Then came the deep-dives, the analysis, the obsession, the comparisons, the "ahhhh this life, JUST HAVE MONEY" comments. Or "THIS IS HOW YOU DO IT." Or "Ahh why am I poor." Or "is this how I will die in Abule Ijesha?" The last one was, in fact, a real comment. I did not make that up. 

What's in a Legacy? On Life and How We Want to Be Remembered

What is in a legacy?

How do you want to be remembered? 

Everyone's heard it now: Charlie Kirk was brutally murdered on Wednesday, September 10. And events that followed will probably be stuff worthy of history's retelling. However you feel about him and his murder is one of the more contentious issues of this week (month? year?). I will leave that to you.

In hours that followed when he was first killed, people took to social media and expressed all kinds of things. As with most things that are the rave, I wanted to stay out of this one. I just vehemently believe that one does not need to have an opinion about everything. Then I saw too many people, Nigerians especially (some of whom I even respect), glorify an idea that was at best incomplete and at worst a complete lie. 

Too often, lies speed, jump, hop, but truth just comes crawling behind and it's left to us to push it a little. So I wrote the below.

The Myth of Being 'Too Late' in Life

 This post is inspired by another post I saw on a Mommy Page on Instagram. The poster said:

"I turn 40 today and instead of feeling joyful, I find myself feeling a little wistful. I didn't get married early and now here I am, caring for a toddler and a newborn at a time when many of my mates are hitting different life milestones. While I'm grateful for my journey, there are moments I feel like I should be in a different space by now...pursuing something more. It's hard sometimes, doing motherhood alongside women in their late 20s or early 30s. I celebrate them, of course, but if I'm being honest, it messes with my mind. I question whether I'm behind in life. I know every journey is different but today I just need to hear from other mums. Can anyone share some words of encouragement with me?"

When I first saw this, perhaps it was being stuck at the airport somewhere in Europe, almost missing my connecting flight, but I was just incensed. I went back to read it a few days after and while I empathized a bit more, I still had strong feelings about it.

"My Boyfriend Hates My Hair, What Should I do?": On Black Womanhood and Hair as Resistance

Y'all, we got published! 

I can't believe I am just posting about this here but life happens.  I wrote an essay for The Progressive Magazine; not surprisingly I wrote about feminism and hair, two things I love! 

I wrote about Feminism, and how important it is to remind every little girl you know that changing who she is or “making sacrifices” for a boy is not what God intended for her.

I wrote about hair. But not in the way you think. 

I had read about this little girl whose boyfriend “hates her hair.” Each time I have to type out these words, I throw up a little in my mouth. In any case, I give Kamsi an answer to the question she asked. But before that, I try to provide a bit more context for her so she sees what damage patriarchy has done. I remind her she’s fighting against not just her silly, little boyfriend, but an entire system designed to remind us Black girls that left to them, we would never be enough. So, we must NEVER leave it to them.

Here is the full essay, as published on The Progressive below:

In Defense of Church

On a The View  episode over a year ago, there was a conversation about the rise in senseless shooting in America. This past week alone, there were two mass shootings. Knowing this country as well as I think I do, I have a feeling there will be more posts on this blog about the senselessness of guns so buckle up. It's a hard conversation, not because there is no solution (it's a very very easy solution at that), but because we are afraid. Afraid of sending our kids to school. Afraid of going to the mall. Or the grocery store. Or the club. Or the wrong house. Or the wrong driveway. Shoot, we are afraid to live, it looks like. But conversation for another time. 

In the panel discussion I reference above, Sara Haines talked about the rise of porn, violent video games, and decrease in church attendance. She got a lot of flak for it in the comment section. I think it may have been because this requires a lot of nuance. It's not that she is wrong. Those things are problematic and destructive of people's minds all around. The real elephant in the room is that these things are happening in many other countries and yet, there are no mass shootings in those places. Which suggests that one problem we have is...guns. But a particular segment of our leaders has been bought and paid for by the ghoulish NRA. So, again conversation for another time.

A Hopeless Saturday Gives Way to a Joyous Sunday: What Easter Means to Me

I had a different post planned out for this week. But it's Easter. Well, Easter Monday in saner climes. In America, no one really cares. 

In any case, Happy Easter! 

I know Christmas is the big deal to everyone. But Easter is just as much of a big deal too. It's Easter!

Breaking Records, Breaking Chains: How Cory Booker's 25-Hour Speech Outlasted Hate

When Senator Booker started his quest to disrupt the Senate for "as long as I am physically able" one week ago, most people didn't pay him a lot of mind. After twenty-five hours, they didn't have a choice. Everyone was talking about it. What am I talking about? I'm talking about Cory Booker standing on the Senate floor for over twenty-five hours in a record breaking event. On Monday, March 31st, he took the Senate floor and began a speech condemning this current administration's cruel and inhumane policies. He did not sleep. He did not eat. He did not use the restroom.  In the end, It surpassed the previous record set in 1957 by segregationist Senator Strom Thurmond, who filibustered for 24 hours and 18 minutes to oppose the Civil Rights Act. So it was that Senator Booker started the speech at 7PM on Monday and told us he would use his time to disrupt the normal business of the U.S. Senate as long as he was physically able.  

Fight Fight Fight: Resisting Fascism and the Tyranny of Fear

Every time another policy is implemented or there is a rhetoric out there from America’s political right with a unique purpose to dehumanize people and strip them of their dignity, what angers me the most is that these people do it in the name of the Lord. It angers me to measures I can’t possibly describe. 

When I woke up in Nairobi on November 6, 2024, and saw this man won the election again, I was in disbelief. I was terrified. I knew of the impending danger. And yet, even I didn’t think it would be this despicable. In less than three weeks, they have unleashed terror like never before imagined. He has made himself king. He has put such cracks on the foundations of our democratic institutions that sometimes I pinch myself to ask if this is still America. All of this is done with an intention. So much so that I’ve seen people just give up. I’ve watched colleagues live with fear. I’ve seen people lose hope. Our Democratic elected leaders also took too much time to lick their wounds. Too many lives will be impacted. Too many people are confused. I didn’t understand either, why it seemed like evil was winning. Why it seemed like the wicked was prospering. Why it seemed like the wicked enjoyed a life of ease while the marginalized, the oppressed, the voiceless continued to suffer.

In Which I Convince You That Kamala Harris Is The Right Choice

I voted today (It's a Sunday as I begin to write this) and I joked on Instagram that there is a wild part to this. 

We voted for who could be the FIRST (Black, Indian) FEMALE PRESIDENT of this democratic experiment called America. In which case, history will be made. OR this may very well be the last "elections" of this democratic experiment, which renders it over. So, history.  Either way, history.

I don't know who specifically this post is targeted towards but listen/read up, please. I can't make a pitch to a Trump voter. I'm good but I'm not THAT good.  I will attempt to make a pitch (I made an earlier one here) to so-called undecided voters or to those who have decided to abstain or who have chosen apathy or worse, those who want to vote for the fraud called Jill Stein. I know you are angry and frustrated and maybe change is not moving fast enough for you. But progress is SLOW.  Real progress is not speedy...it builds incrementally. So of course, there is more work to do. This is not a perfect union, and it will never be. This is a simple reminder that needs to be said.

There will also never be a perfect candidate. But to the extent that one can be qualified, Kamala Harris is. She was the Attorney General of California, a Senator, and is now the sitting Vice President.  With all these qualifications, they still call her a DEI hire. It's the lines misogynoir colors. It's the way it flattens you into your identity while decrying you for embracing that same identity. Throughout this entire campaign I have not heard Kamala Harris ONCE say, "vote for me because I'm Black or because I'm Indian or because I'm a woman or because I'm all of those things". She has instead touted her experience, qualifications, and skills. She has promised to be president for ALL. So here is what I will say to anyone calling her a DEI hire: I dare you to take the California bar exam and pass. DARE.  

Oh What a Season: How the 2024 Olympics Made Me Feel

Let's talk Olympics! 

To be honest, I didn't watch much of it. The games just always happened around work time  (time difference  between here and Paris, and all) but of course, there were moments that you'd have to be under a rock to not have heard about. I've jokingly written about the benefits of sports before but Olympics is all of that on steroids. There is something about the EXCELLENCE on display; the fortitude; the resilience that just have you plugged in, whether because you catch up on all the games or, like me, you read about them after. So, let's take a minute to talk about the Olympics, shall we? 

NIGHT NIGHT!!!

Joe Biden Exited the Presidential Race: So What? Now What?

Ah Jeez. I wrote this elaborate post the other day about the two candidates before you. 

Y'all.

Here we are. The last 48 hours. Here we are. 

Sunday (the day before yesterday) afternoon feels like one of those days where you will always remember where you were when you heard the "news". 

And so it happened that Joe Biden dropped out of the presidential race. There is a LOT to unpack about everything that's happened. I know that no one needs my analysis. I have nothing new to say apart from what everyone and their mamas already said. Yet, I feel a gnawing to just say something here; perhaps because I made this whole case for Joe Biden just two posts ago. I think the main reason why it always feels so odd to be quiet in monumental times like this is akin to what Toni Morrison once said:

This is precisely the time when artists go to work

There is no time for despair

No place for self-pity

No need for silence

No room for fear

We speak

We write

We do language

This is how civilizations heal

There Are Two Candidates Before You

It feels really weird to be quiet about an election with so much stakes for our lives and for our country. There is a cloud of noise out there so I'm going to put this as simply as possible. So here goes. There are two candidates — whatever hangups you have about there being only two choices, you have to get over. Sorry. So, yes, there are two candidates. 

On Finding Happiness: Worry, Mindset, and Stuff

There is a verse in the Bible—and I know I’ve lost you from that but walk with me, okay?—that implores us to consider the lilies and how they grow. They don’t labor or spin. They just are. And then in an interesting metaphor, that passage goes on to say even Solomon in all his splendor—and boy did that dude have a LOT of splendor—was not nearly as splendor-filled as lilies. 

You can see where I’m going, right?

Ha.

There is a lot of pain in this world. There is a LOT of it. You know it, I know it. You have it, I have it. Part of what makes us alive, part of what makes us living, breathing things is that we inevitably have some pain. That we have some challenges. What sets us apart from each other—well, apart from generational wealth, participants in varying systems of just and unjust governments, and luck—is the mindset with which we approach these problems. If this is getting to the part where it sounds like a cliché, just walk with me, please. I once heard the famous therapist, Lori Gottlieb, say something so profound. And then when I read her book, Maybe You Should Talk to Someone—and everyone should read this PHENOMENAL BOOK—I read the expanded version. In essence, the point her therapist through her made was everyone is going to have to feel pain. Life happens. You lose your job. You get a divorce. You hate your job. You hate your spouse. You can’t have kids. You can’t find a spouse. You run out of money. And these are the ones that are technically fixable, never mind the life-shattering, life-altering pains. There are then little pains on top of the main, heavy pains. So that will happen. But you actually don’t have to suffer. While you cannot really choose the pain, you can most definitely choose the suffering. 

Why We Must Get Involved in Local Elections

All politics is local. You’ve probably heard that so much that it’s lost its meaning. And in today’s world, with all the insanity that exists within our politics, it almost tempting to think that no longer applies. It’s almost tempting to block it all out. But it’s never been more important to understand how the national frenzies making headlines can have implications for state and local governments. It’s never been more important to hold space for the politics happening around us as much as those making national headlines. How do local policy decisions affect citizens? Although the obsession and overwhelming consumption the soap opera-like nature of our presidential elections obscures and consumes everything else, much of the decisions about our health, schools, neighborhoods are determined by local elections.