#eshun building

[thisisjamaica]

Forthcoming exhibition: “In the Black Fantastic”

In “The best exhibitions to see in 2022 from Stonehenge to Surrealism,” Ben Luke (Evening Standard) announces “In the Black Fantastic,” to take place at the Hayward Gallery (Southbank Centre) from June 28 to September 18, 2022. He underlines Hew Locke’s work in this exhibition and also for the Tate Britain’s Duveens Commission (Mar 22 to Oct 23), stating that “his long track record of dramatic installations and sardonic yet glittering takes on the history of imperial statuary make him the ideal artist for this space right now.” Luke writes:

You know it’s going to be a good year for art when choosing even your top 12 shows is agonising. We are in for a huge art treat in 2022, and a pleasingly diverse one, too. So while there are plenty of timeless crowd pleasers like Van Gogh and Raphael, we’ll also be introduced to new faces and less  few related exhibitions snuck in), but there are glories beyond.

Take one cluster of related shows: Francis Bacon’s obsession with animals is revealed in Man and Beast at the Royal Academy in January, while yet another exhibition of Bacon’s old mucker Lucian Freud opens in October, this time at the National Gallery. [. . .]

When I spoke to Sarah McCrory, the director of Goldsmiths CCA, in October, she told me excitedly about this show, which reflects a hugely topical subject: as McCrory puts it: “It’s considering, after the Black Lives Matter protests, after a pandemic, after Brexit, with a climate crisis, how can we look at monuments? How do we rethink history?” Among the artists are Alvaro Barrington, Phyllida Barlow, Jeremy Deller and Oscar Murillo.

Expect everything from sardonic reflections on the government’s “retain and explain” policy on statues of slavers and imperialists to fantastical futuristic constructions. I can’t wait.

In the Black Fantastic

Curated by Ekow Eshun, this mouthwatering exhibition looks at how contemporary artists across the African diaspora are creating a new form of Afrofuturism. Drawing on elements of myth, spiritual tradition, speculative fiction, carnival and folklore, they address the histories of slavery and colonialism and contemporary inequities and build what Eshun has described as “new narratives of Black possibility”.

The list of 12 artists immediately suggests that it will be spectacular: Ellen Gallagher, Hew Locke, Wangechi Mutu, Chris Ofili and Kara Walker, to name a few, are making some of the most visually and conceptually rich art of our time. Earlier in the year, Locke will take on Tate Britain’s Duveens Commission (Mar 22 to Oct 23) – his long track record of dramatic installations and sardonic yet glittering takes on the history of imperial statuary make him the ideal artist for this space right now. [. . .]

Hayward Gallery, June 28 to Sep 18, southbankcentre.co.uk              

[atlas4all]

AN ATLAS FOR ALL, I LEONY ESHUN ENVISAGES

Meghan Markle, a member of the British Royal Family speaking on the Woman’s Voice has this to say, “Women don’t need to find a voice, they have a voice, and they need to feel empowered to use it, and people need to be encouraged to listen.” This simple yet powerful quote emphasis the long standing fact that ladies like us have long being limited not because we do not have the capabilities but because society and conventions has sidelined the woman to a few life options.

It is for this reason that I Leony Eshun, a level 300 BsC. Agribusiness student is currently aspiring to be your next ATLAS President, to empower us use our voice and change the narrative of our association which ought to encompass our vision and project us as ladies. As a hardworking lady, a go-getter and very active participant in the hall, I assure you the foundation for an ATLAS for ALL is already ready and set in motion.

Although ATLAS promotes our Ghanaian culture through it's beauty pageant, the over reliance on its happening has often made ladies who are not interested in such entertaining activities left out of the association. I would therefore like to introduce and certain activities that will ginger the interest of those who are not active in ATLAS and felt left out.

These activities include periodic entrepreneurial skills training such as bead making or liquid soap making,

intellectual skills training activities like organising debates and some indoor games and outdoor games between those in the Hall and Diaspora as well as introducing technological skills such as I T training and Software and Graphic Design soft skills which a increasingly becoming essential in the world.

On my implementation, because I your ATLAS President will sit in during JCRC meetings, I'll laise with the Hall President to organize these activities and when it is beyond our capacity, I'll reach out to the WOCOM of the Local NUGS. This is because they have a larger pool of resources and can organize and afford activities such as seminars and cooking competition for all the ladies in the school but ATLAS can't because of the limited resources.

As Tina Fey once said, “Whatever the problem, be part of the solution. Don’t just sit around raising questions and pointing out obstacles.”. Likewise I LEONY ESHUN plead with you, that whatever the problem you have with ATLAS, be a part of the solution today by voting for me as together we build Build An ATLAS for ALL!!!

Vote 4 LEONY ESHUN as your next ATLAS President

Vote Number 1 on the ballot paper

Vote for AN ATLAS FOR ALL!!!

[ivandimarcofotografo]

‘A queer person can be anybody’: the African photographers exploring identity

In his new book, Africa State of Mind, Ekow Eshun celebrates contemporary African photography. Here he showcases the work of artists looking at the self and sexuality, from Zanele Muholi to Eric Gyamfi

In August 2009, an exhibition titled Innovative Women opened in Johannesburg, aiming to showcase the work of the city’s young black female artists. The launch was attended by Lulu Xingwana, minister for arts and culture at the time, who had been invited to officially open the show. But instead of giving a speech, Xingwana stormed out of the gallery after seeing images by the photographer Zanele Muholi that depicted naked women in close embrace. Muholi’s work, said the minister, was immoral, offensive and ran contrary to “social cohesion and nation-building”. South Africa has one of the most progressive constitutions in the world, with discrimination on the basis of sexuality barred by law. Yet censorious attitudes such as Xingwana’s towards homosexuality are widespread. Almost three-quarters of the population believe same-sex sexual activity is morally wrong, according to a 2016 survey. Similarly intolerant views are commonplace across Africa. Homosexuality is outlawed in 32 of the continent’s 54 nations. It is punishable by life imprisonment in Uganda, Tanzania and Sierra Leone. In Sudan, southern Somalia, Somaliland, Mauritania and northern Nigeria, the penalty is death. Against that backdrop the work of a photographer such as Muholi takes on a dual role, both representing individual artistic expression and operating as a form of political activism; a means to positively assert LGBTQ+ identity in straitened circumstances.

Ama and Shana at lunch by Eric Gyamfi, 2016 Gay relationships are illegal in Ghana, where photographer Gyamfi was born, but the tender, intimate images in the series Just Like Us, where Gyamfi documents life in the country’s queer communities, do not dwell on the sexuality of his subjects but emphasise their ordinariness.

Afrikan Boy Sittin’ by Hassan Hajjaj, 2013 With its explosion of colours and distinctive handmade frame, this image typifies the powerful and assertive nature of the Morocco-born photographer’s work. Hajjaj’s portraits confront prejudices about culture and identity head on.

Vintage by Sabelo Mlangeni, 2009 The South African photographer, who works mainly in black and white, documents queer life in the townships of Mpumalanga province in his Country Girls series. Homophobic violence is routine in the towns he visits, yet his work creates scenes of aspirational normality.

Bhekezakhe, Parktown by Zanele Muholi, 2016 The self-portrait is part of a project entitled Somnyama Ngonyama (Hail, the Dark Lioness), in which the South African artist uses direct, psychologically charged images to confront the politics of race and representation.

Kingsley Ossai, Nsukka, Enugu state, Nigeria by Ruth Ossai, 2017 Part of a series in which the British-Nigerian artist trains the lens on people from her local community, the image challenges ideas about gender, masculinity and what it means to be a man. Ossai’s sitters wore clothes that blur the boundaries between menswear and womenswear.

Continue reading... https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2020/mar/15/africa-state-of-mind-extract-ekow-eshun

[dustedmagazine]

Speaker Music – Of Desire, Longing (Planet Mu)

Photo by Ting Ding

The Industrial Revolution and consequent urbanization fundamentally altered the rhythms of human existence and interaction. By giving stark outline to social, racial and economic divisions, the modern megalopolis places its inhabitants in a panopticon of surveillance, tension, status and oppression. From Baudelaire and the flâneurs, Walter Benjamin’s theories of urban alienation, and the Situationist concept of détournement to the modern Reclaim The Night and Occupy movements the theoretical and practical battles over public space continue to occupy artists, philosophers and activists.

New York based musician, artist, curator, critic and theoretician DeForrest Brown Jr investigates the politics and rhythms of public space as an agent for action on his debut as Speaker Music. Drawing on the writings of Henri Lefebvre and Kodwo Eshun and their discussions of the role of rhythm and time in determining how people behave and react in public space, Brown constructs two lengthy tracks that mimic the experience of urban density and tension. If this all sounds a little like dancing to architecture let’s concentrate on the music.

On a bedrock of spindly, off-kilter electronic percussion and droning samples that evoke treated horns (both instruments and traffic), Brown manipulates his building blocks with an improvisational intensity that recalls at once the most abstract experiments of industrial producers Cabaret Voltaire, 23 Skidoo and Clock DVA and a stymied jazz seeking to escape the quagmire and assert a voice above the oppressive noise.

“With Empathy” begins with a distant saxophone over the quiet rumble and click of a dawning city like Sonny Rollins woodshedding on the Williamsburg Bridge during his self-imposed hiatus from the culture that was killing him with disrespect, degradation and the drugs he took to numb his despair. Here there comes a response, other horns, empathetic voices, join to carve out a fragile collective space that the city clang threatens but never quite manages to drown out. “Without Excess” continues the theme with a voiceless buzzing choral drone, a human counterpoint to stuttering martial percussion as pitiless as the factory clock, the modern efficiency of battery offices and the illusion of free range public spaces replete with endless lists of don’t, can’t and mustn’t. The crescendo comes with the horns crying against the wailing of sirens as Of Desire, Longing immerses the listener in the dense fug of modern life with all its difficulties, insults and frustrations. Brown interrogates movement and stasis and demands attention to self and others in the physical, temporal, culture and human environments we share. If we lack answers let us at least ask questions.

Andrew Forell

[achtkant]

“Dissolve Techno's faith in Kraftwerk as the foundation of today's electronics, and Alien Music's lines of inheritance break up, go Wildstyle. With the collapse of Kraftwerk's consensual future, Techno doesn't die. It just loses its sense of itself as the definitive, single direction of music's future. Atlantic Futurism is always bUilding Futurhythmachines, sensory technologies, instruments which renovate perception, which synthesize new states of mind. World 4 Jazz is a transmolecularizer which fluctuates the steady states of organized sound. Seeping in from the futurepast, it feedsforward into the present,anachronizing everything it reaches. Assembled from molecular components of rhythm, the Breakbeat is an Applied Rhythmic Technology, an ART that sets cultural velocity and cultural inertia in motion. By mobilizing rhythms across the communication landscape, the Rhythmengine crosspollinates the eager fan, transmaterializes your sensorium through the onomatopoeic illogic called HipHop.”

(Kodwu Eshun, More Brilliant Than The Sun, 1998)

[oaoaioii]

Trevor Mathison - From Signal to Decay

I attended in the opening night which meant a lot of the sound works were competing with that of the people there - maybe this is a bad thing, maybe it added to it? (Mathison said the building was singing to itself) 

Kodwo eshun was there - black audio film collective links - felt a bit starstruck

Overall nice ideas of sound / feedback and decay playing with space - also in the notation drawings which again play with the systematic notions of notation - I just wish overall he’d pushed certain things a little harder, it felt like the ideas had legs but hadn’t been stretched to their fullest (e.g. tape loops hanging on the wall felt a bit crammed in without serving too much of a purpose but to fill wall space)

[emilyenglexp469-blog]

Experimental Project Narrative

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.” 

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard -- I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough -- I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you.” She said all this very fast. (Rowling, Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone, 83)

The first time readers of the Harry Potter series are introduced to Hermione Granger, they are made aware she is a somewhat bossy leader with a lot of ambition. However, they are never explicitly told more than the abundance of her brown hair and that she had large front teeth in regards to her physical appearance. When pondering this assignment, I ran across the post by eigthsun as I was scrolling through social media that addresses this idea that we do not receive more than those two details about Hermione’s appearance. I loved the artwork and as I read through the messages on the panels, I realized the art was actually an unspoken representation of the concept of counterfutures. Counterfutures emerged through the work of Kodwo Eshun in his “Further Considerations on Afrofuturism” as he describes the process of imagining the current moment as the memory of an ideal future. 

When creating this tumblr blog, I chose to make certain stylistic decisions that reflect the character of Hermione while also fostering counterfutural concepts. The color theme is of burgundy and gold, representing the Gryffindor house the character belongs to. I chose a silhouetted image for the profile picture as one can see the outline and recognize the character by her Hogwarts uniform but without directly imagining her as one race or another. The picture is also both black and white. I also included a header image of the time-turner she uses. This device has the ability to transport her back in time and create a counterfuture as illustrated in the third edition in the series. I gathered 50 posts by artists on tumblr to illustrate how racial interpretations of a character do not change the story. These depictions of Hermione Granger as various races, ethnicities, body shapes, all are true to her character. Throughout the interpretations, she is still the intelligent, bookish, strong girl with big, frizzy hair as described in the novels. 

This movement to depict her in ways differing than the appearance of Emma Watson, the actress that plays Hermione in official movie, was especially sparked by the emergence of J.K. Rowling’s newest addition to the series, a play titled “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child” that was published in 2016. A black actress, Noma Dumezweni, was cast to play adult Hermione which sparked a great deal of conversation and controversy in the Harry Potter fandom as people online complained and argued that Hermione should only be represented as a white woman. However, I would like to argue that accepting all of the various artistic interpretations of Hermione creates a counterfutural movement in recognizing the present as the moment that people realize that characters who are not explicitly described racially do not have to be assumed to be white. Even J.K. Rowling herself stated that Dumezweni was cast because she was the best for the role and that she supports all representations of Hermione’s appearance to be true to the story. 

Before exploring this topic, I had always pictured Hermione to be white with curly hair as it was relatable to my own appearance and was reinforced by a similar depiction in the movies so I never thought much more of it. But now that I have reviewed many diverse interpretations I am able to recognize how the vagueness is empowering as Hermione is relatable to almost all female readers. Hermione stands for inspiring women to feel confident and fostering a drive for learning and building their own intelligence rather than focusing on superficial things such as beauty. Many interpretations also argued that her heritage of being a “Mudblood, and proud of it!” (Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, 489) encouraged them to be proud of their own heritages despite stereotypes. 

Reflecting on the novels from roughly two decades ago and reimagining the characters realizing Hermione and Harry especially are ambiguous when it comes to their skin color is a moment of countermemory. Eshun discusses Afrofuturist views of understanding how “power now operates predictively as much as retrospectively,” (Eshun 289) which is precisely what Hermione represents. Fans of the Harry Potter series reflect on the past and reimagine the future in which characters do not have to be assumed to be white unless otherwise stated. This allows all people to identify with the character, which is especially crucial for those of races or ethnicities who haven’t had much positive representation in the past and are now reclaiming their value through movements of countermemories and counterfutures. Since Afrofuturism “is concerned with the possibilities for intervention within the dimension of the predictive, the projected, the proleptic, the envisioned, the virtual, the anticipator, and the future conditional,” (Eshun 293) I would argue that this movement of fan art to depict Hermione and other ambiguous characters in a plethora of skin tones is an Afrofuturist movement.

Works Cited Eshun, Kodwo. “Further Considerations on Afrofuturism.” CR: The New Centennial Review, vol. 3, no. 2, 2003, pp. 287-302., doi:10.1353/ncr.2003.0021. Ratcliffe, Rebecca. “JK Rowling Tells of Anger at Attacks on Casting of Black Hermione.” The Observer, Guardian News and Media, 5 June 2016, https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2016/jun/05/harry-potter-jk--rowling-black-hermione. Rowling, J. K. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Toronto: Scholastic, 1998. Print. Rowling, J. K. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. New York, NY: Arthur A. Levine Books, 2007. Print.

[mtjester]

Chapter 12: Eshun

Chapter can also be read on the Witch King blog.

Sydney stood outside a small inn, the Queen’s Delight, as the sun set in the east. She looked over her shoulder at Urothal, which, unlike the night before, was well illuminated. It seemed to her that she was about a mile outside of the city, but she found it difficult to gauge the distance. Sighing, she glanced around. Nobody was visible, so she took the opportunity to sneak a glance through the inn’s dirty windows. The crowd inside was lively and gleeful. Most of the patrons were crammed together near the bar, while a few others sat in groups at the booths lining the opposite wall. In the back corner, a familiar figure sat with three other people. Sydney bit her lip and exhaled, clutching the strip of bark in her fist.

Somebody came around the corner, and Sydney jumped. The figure started as well. “A traveler?” she guessed, looking Sydney over. “We don’t get many of those around here during the Wicked Period.”

“Uh...” Sydney said, recovering. “Actually, I’m looking for somebody. I was just checking to make sure he’s here.”

“Well, is he?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go in! What do they call him by?”

Sydney almost said his name out loud, but she caught herself before she made the mistake. “I don’t know what they call him,” she said, thinking quickly. “I was sent by my mom, and she told me, but I forgot...”

“That’s fine,” the woman said. “I can hardly remember my own children’s naming days. Granted, there are seven of them, so can anyone blame me?” She laughed, showing off a magnificent set of teeth, and opened the door for Sydney. “Come in! We’re friendly towards strangers today, so you’re in luck.”

Sydney inhaled through her nose and straightened her back, hoping that she seemed less timid than she felt. “Are you normally not friendly?” she asked, walking through the door. Her eyes darted around the tavern, but nobody paid them much attention as the woman closed the door behind her.

“Of course not! Don’t you know a thing about Urothal?” she said. “But by the looks of you, you wouldn’t. No, we live on the edges of the Witch’s domain, so we can’t afford to trust strangers. Here, clean yourself.”

The woman moved to hand Sydney a jug of water, and with a flash of panic, Sydney willed herself with every shred of her concentration to be physical. The jug caught in her hands with only a slight amount of slipping. The woman did not seem to notice. She passed Sydney to wave at another patron, and Sydney turned towards the door, pretending to pour the water onto her hands. She could feel the purifying liquid inside the jug stinging her skin, even through the bottle.

“Hey, girl!” the woman called, waving from the mass of people crowding around the bar. Sydney carefully set the jug of water where it was meant to go and turned towards the crowd. The number of people in the inn was daunting, and her eyes flashed to the back where Eshun was having an animated conversation with his booth mates. The air felt hot, dense, and sticky with sweat. People were yelling and stumbling around with laughter and drunkenness, filling the inn with constant noise and activity. To Sydney, every body in the room was an obstacle, and she didn’t know what would happen if someone bumped into her and found her to be a spirit. Her mind began to swirl.

“Are you okay?” Sydney’s mind snapped out of its panic and found its way back to reality, and she blinked. The woman stood next to her with concern.

“Yeah,” Sydney said quickly. “I just...I haven’t eaten in a while.” The lie was not entirely false, she realized after she said it.

“Is that all?” the woman asked. “If it’s food you need, let me feed you! Hey!” she yelled, turning to the bar. The head of a gigantic man, the bartender, poked out from behind the wall of bodies. The woman waved, and the bartender’s eyes flicked to her. “Do you got any food lying around? This girl’s been traveling!”

The head disappeared. “Let’s get you a seat,” the woman said. She moved to place her arm across Sydney’s shoulders, and Sydney’s mind spasmed with panic again, focusing so hard on making her body corporeal that she grew rigid. The woman’s arm made contact with her body. Sydney released a breath of air as the arm rested on her shoulders, physical and real. If the woman noticed anything strange, it was Sydney’s stiffness. She smiled in a way Sydney knew was meant to be comforting and led her around the other patrons to the back of the bar, sitting her down on a stool in the corner on the wall opposite of Eshun. She pushed the other people out of the way, giving Sydney some room.

“You’re sweating like a horse!” she said, looking at Sydney’s face. “How long have you gone without eating?”

“A...day? Or two?” Sydney said, her head beginning to pulse from anxiety and concentration.

“Did your mother not send you with anything to eat?”

“We had nothing.”

“By the King, no wonder you’re so skittish! Poor thing, you must be starving. Bartender!”

The bartender hurried over and set a plate of soggy vegetables in front of Sydney. The woman scoffed. “We’re in the middle of the longest Wicked Period in living history and this is all the food you give me for my money? Where is the stew?”

“What’s got your chin hairs curling?” a man sitting next to her asked, laughing. “Did your husband take a spirit during the Wicked Period?”

“Mind your own business, Fletcher. We know how to set up wards.”

“Wards don’t work during the Wicked Period, Mother Teeth! Everyone knows that,” a lady called down the bar.

“Is that what you been telling your man while you’re out doing what you like?” Mother Teeth yelled back, and the bar whooped with approval at the jab.

“I ain’t told him nothin’!” the lady said with a big grin. “Wicked Period: forgive and forget!” The inn exploded with gleeful noise. Sydney picked at the food in front of her as she watched the ruckus, remembering to eat with her left hand. Although her mind was still consumed with keeping herself physical, the jovial atmosphere helped to take away the edge of panic. The food was not tasty, but when the bartender dropped a large yam onto her plate, she nodded with approval. The bartender looked surprised at the praise and came over with another handful of mushrooms.

“Why is everyone so cheerful?” Sydney asked as Mother Teeth settled in next to her.

“Don’t you know?” she asked, turning to Sydney with surprise. “Oh, well, I guess since you’ve been traveling, you wouldn’t! The Warden of Urothal caught the Rogue Prince!”

“The Rogue Prince?” Sydney said. “You mean...The Marked?”

Mother Teeth laughed. “How long you been on the road? Nobody’s called him that since the Cursed Queen’s death.”

“Oh...”

“Don’t worry about it now. Quick, quick, eat your food. You’re gonna need that energy back. We’re sending the Rogue off to Kalon in the morning, and there’ll be a festival shortly after. Don’t give up your wards yet, though. It’s not safe until he’s in the mountains with the Witch King.”

Sydney felt her stomach drop, but she forced herself to smile and finish her food. She glanced over at Eshun.

“Did you find who you’re here for?” Mother Teeth asked. Sydney nodded.

“That man. The one with the long hair.”

“Oh, of course,” Mother Teeth said. “I should’ve guessed as much! Wait here.”

Before Sydney could say anything, Mother Teeth strode over to Eshun and said something, nodding in Sydney’s direction. He looked past her, and his silvery eyes locked with Sydney’s. He returned his attention to Mother Teeth and said something with a smile, and then he lifted himself out of the booth. Sydney watched him as he exchanged some words and a joke with his friends. To her surprise, instead of coming to her, he gestured towards the door. She crammed the rest of the mushrooms into her mouth and slipped off her stool, anxiousness building in her stomach.

“Thank you so much for the food,” she said to Mother Teeth as she passed her. Mother Teeth smiled broadly at her.

“Of course, of course!” she said, happy for the gratitude. “You’re lucky. I wouldn’t have done that most any other day!”

“Oh, shut up, Teeth!” someone yelled from the bar. “Everyone knows you’re soft.”

“Soft like a midlander! Why are you even in the mountains?”

“I’m hardier than any one of you, so I don’t wanna hear it!” she shouted, but she was grinning. Sydney slipped past her and weaved across the room as carefully as she could manage, glad to have an excuse to leave.

The cool night air felt wonderful on her hot face, and she released a sigh of relief. Her mind finally relaxed. Wiping her face, she looked around for Eshun.

“Over here, girl.”

She jumped slightly and looked to her left, where Eshun stood, leaning against the wall of the inn. He was tall and muscular, and his deep black skin seemed to melt into the shadows of the foothills behind him. Sydney’s hand tightened around the bark she had kept curled in her fist while she was in the bar. Straightening her back, she walked over to him and held it out to him. “I need your help,” she said. “Your, um...great grandfather sent me, and he told me to give you this. He says that any help you give me will be, uh...redemptive.”

Eshun stared her in the eyes, and she felt her heart beat a little faster. The silver of his irises stood out in the darkness. He looked down at her fist and examined it for a moment, and he extended his hand, palm up. Instead of taking the bark from her, he waited until she dropped it onto his open palm. Sydney’s heart was picking up speed as he opened the simple note and read it.

“Well then,” he said, curling the bark up tightly and sticking it into his pocket. “Come with me.”

He pushed himself away from the inn wall and began to stroll towards Urothal. Sydney, trying to swallow the dryness in her mouth, followed after him, trailing behind a number of feet. He stopped walking and looked over his shoulder at her with a raised eyebrow. “Shy?”

“Uh...no...” Sydney said, walking a little faster.

“Stay with me, girl. We’re going into the city.”

“Okay,” Sydney said, falling into step with him. His tall, powerful figure dwarfed hers, and she couldn’t help but sneak furtive glances at him. Knowing he was a witch, her eyes scanned for an amulet, but it was either not on him or hidden from view. When she looked up at his face, she noticed with chagrin that he was watching her examine him. His lips twitched upwards into a miniscule smirk.

As they approached the city, the light from the tower grew more uncomfortable to Sydney, becoming unbearably hot and dry. She resisted the urge to shield her face, and her clothes did nothing to protect her skin from the heat. “Make yourself physical,” Eshun said. Sydney jumped and glanced at him. He shot her a meaningful look, and she dropped her eyes, concentrating on her body. After a second of silence, Eshun put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her to him. She went stiff with alarm, but the heat from the tower immediately lessened. Her eyes stayed trained on the ground.

“Listen,” Eshun said to her as they walked up to the gates, “when they open these doors, there will be guards. We will be cleansed. Don’t break contact with me, and try to act at least somewhat natural.”

At a loss for words, Sydney nodded. She tried to clear the consternation off her face and relax her body as the doors of the city creaked open, but she knew she was failing. A pair of guards in purple uniforms came out to greet them, carrying beautifully decorated containers of water and braided, whip-like tassels.

“Apothecary,” one of the guards greeted Eshun with a curt nod.

“Gatekeepers,” Eshun returned in an equally terse manner, nodding to both of them.

“Who’s this?” one of them asked, gesturing to Sydney.

“A traveler. Her mother sent for some medicine.”

“Do they not have apothecaries where you’re from?” the other asked, eyeing her outfit and disheveled appearance with disdain. Sydney shook her head. He hummed in his throat. “That’s a hard life.”

“It is,” Eshun said. “If you’d please let us pass, friends, this girl needs some rest from her journey.”

The two guards dipped the braided tassels into the containers and drew them out, dripping with water. Sydney tried not to flinch as they slapped the tassels lightly against them, flicking water over their shoulders and backs. To her surprise, she felt no pain or discomfort. She glanced up at Eshun, who winked at her with a discreet smirk.

“You’re free to go,” the guards said, allowing them to pass. Eshun steered Sydney through the doors and immediately took a hard left, leading her down a narrow street following the wall. He released her as the street continued to narrow, stepping ahead to lead. The street soon became a steep set of stairs that they began to descend, with dingy houses and shops crammed together on their right side and the wall growing higher on their left. The bottom levels of the buildings were dark, but the floors above were illuminated.

“Here we are,” Eshun said, stopping in front of an unremarkable door, above which hung a dirty sign that read “APOTHECARY.” He removed a set of keys from one of the many pouches hanging from his belt, and after unlocking the door, he allowed Sydney to step inside ahead of him. The interior of the shop was as uninteresting as its exterior. There was nothing but a counter and many cases of jars containing herbs, fungi, and liquids of different colors and transparencies. “Back here,” Eshun said, gesturing to a door behind the counter. Sydney followed him, and behind the door was a tight spiral staircase that led up to the second level.

Eshun’s living quarters were far more interesting than his shop. Cluttered with books, papers, strange objects made from animal parts, wooden and clay figurines, beaded masks, bronze tools and utensils, and more herbs and liquids, the room was packed full of colorful and esoteric items that stretched from the staircase to his bed beneath the window. He weaved through the clutter and pushed piles of junk off of the two chairs in the room, clearing the table next to them as best he could without completely destroying the semblance of aesthetic disorganization the room tried to exude. Sydney only followed him into the room after he had gestured to one of the chairs. As she sat, he lit a fire in the iron stove next to his bed, the only part of the room completely free of excess material.

“I’m guessing,” he said as the fire began to grow, “that you want me to help you go back to where you came from.”

Sydney’s mouth fell open in shock. “How did you know...?”

He looked over his shoulder at her, now smirking openly. “We never offer anything to another person with our right hands.”

“Right hand?” Sydney asked, dumbfounded. “That’s how you knew I wasn’t from here?”

“Only our reflections are right-handed,” he said, moving to the other seat. “Most people have forgotten the stories and think of right-handedness as a disease or an insult, but those of us who come from the mountains know better. Every now and then, your kind falls through a gateway, and the spirit folk have to deal with you.”

“What—you mean this happens often? I’m not the only one?”

“Often enough,” Eshun said. “Most of you wander around as spirits for the rest of your existence, raising hell about your pitiful situations, but we also get those who decide to take over some infant’s body and try to set themselves up a new life. You have them wherever you come from, too, I imagine.”

“I don’t think so...”

“Are you sure? Right-handed people—or it would be left-handed for you, wouldn’t it? People who do things backwards. Reflections. Spirits who possess children.”

“We have left-handed people, but they’re just people.”

“Are you sure?” Eshun reached across the table, knocking over a pile of papers as he hauled a mirror over the junk. “Look into this.”

Sydney looked into the mirror. Her chair was empty. “Yeah, I don’t have a reflection,” she said. “It’s because I’m a spirit, right?”

“It’s because you are the reflection,” he said, tossing the mirror onto his bed. “You’re supposed to be in the mirror, but you’re not. You fell through. There’s a left-handed you running around our world, probably a human, given your form. And for every left-handed person running around your world, there’s supposedly a right-handed double also running around. Supposedly.”

“But then left-handed people in my world wouldn’t have reflections, right?” Sydney said with a small frown.

“If they’ve stolen a body, that reflection wouldn’t be theirs anyway,” Eshun said, shrugging. “Like I said, spirits possess infants. A spirit of our dead is sometimes sent through a gateway to live a new life. The body would have a reflection, but it wouldn’t be the reflection of the soul inside it. The price for that sort of sending is steep, but it happens.”

“That’s...a business here? Sending dead people through mirrors to become babies?”

“If you look hard enough, there’s a business for everything.”

“Okay, you know what? I don’t care about any of that. Let’s just forget you said anything about it.”

Eshun paused for a beat, taken aback, and then laughed. “Not so shy once you settle down, are you?” he said.

“No, I just—it doesn’t matter,” Sydney said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “None of that is why I’m here. You can’t send me back. That’s been pretty much established by everyone.”

“Why?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just a matter of opening a gateway. We could do it with this mirror.” He gestured to the mirror on the bed.

Sydney’s hand dropped from her face. “Wait, really?” He nodded, and her mouth fell open in disbelief. “Everyone’s been saying up until now that they couldn’t!”

“Who is this ‘everyone’?” he asked, trying not to laugh at her expense.

“Your ‘great grandfather,’ for starters.”

His eyebrows flew up. “Really?”

“Yeah!”

“And what reason did he give for that?”

“He said that the magic that brought me here was too strong. That’s what everyone has been saying.”

Eshun considered the possibility for a moment, and he tilted his head in acquiescence. “Then maybe we can’t send you back.”

Sydney pressed her lips together and sighed through her nose. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Sorry, girl. If you’ve been targeted by someone with strong magic, no magic of mine will be able to override that,” Eshun said. “That’s how it works here.”

“I’ve given up on that anyway,” Sydney said, shrugging half-heartedly. With a touch of scorn, she added, “I don’t know why you thought I came for that. The Witch King sent me, and it’s not like he would care if I got home.”

“I thought you must be important,” he said. “He’s picked up stranger projects. I imagine the old coot gets bored.”

“Doesn’t he have a job to do?”

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s a bastard.”

Sydney grimaced. “Ignoring that,” she said, “he told me you can help me break the prince out of the castle.”

Eshun’s eyebrows flew up and his mouth parted in surprise, and for a second he was completely stunned. “Help you break out the prince? Out of the castle?” he repeated.

“That’s right,” Sydney said. “And I guess you must be able to, because everything I’ve heard has pointed me in your direction.”

“King’s bane,” Eshun said, groaning as he leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes. “What in Thrae does the King want to do that for? They just caught the little turd!”

“Maybe it’s because the King actually respects the prince’s wishes?” Sydney said sarcastically.

“Now that’s just stupid,” Eshun said.

“No, it’s not! Does everyone here think it’s okay to just throw another person under the bus? If you were him, you wouldn’t think it’s stupid.”

“Yes, girl, but most of us are not him, and we are the ones who have to deal with the longest Wicked Period in recent history,” Eshun said, sneering.

“What is the Wicked Period?”

“Lord of the Land,” Eshun said, drawing his palm down his cheek in exasperation. “This is what he sends to me? The Wicked Period is the time between Queens, when one dies and another marries. Queens enforce the law. What that means now is that the Spirit Kingdom is basically lawless, and it’s a free-for-all for spirits. They can fight against each other, break into people’s house, possess and burn and destroy, and the Guardianship—the spirit Guardianship, I mean, not the human one—is working overtime to keep them in check. Meanwhile, the beasts in the human cities are beating back the spirits while their own people are going crazy. Nobody knows whether someone is possessed or under the influence of witchcraft or if they’re just being lawless because they know they can get away with it. It’s a period of fear and revelry when society collapses and anything goes. After the Wicked Period, everyone pretends it never happened. “

“So that’s why everyone is so upset about the Queen’s death,” Sydney said, fragments of information clicking into place. “And why everyone is so concerned about sending the prince to Bayal.”

“That’d be right,” Eshun said. “The Wicked Period is fun for the first few days, but after that, it’s unwelcome. Especially for someone like me. I already have to keep a low enough profile as it is, but lately—you do know I’m a witch, right?” He looked at Sydney with a hint of uncertainty, and she nodded.

“He told me,” she said.

“Good. If I’m found out, my life is over.”

“You’re an actual witch, then, right?” Sydney asked. Eshun raised an eyebrow, and she said, “I have a friend who was exiled to the mountains for witchcraft, and she thinks she’s a witch for some reason, even though she’s from a Guardian bloodline...”

“Oh, the Mountain Witch,” Eshun said, grimacing. “No, she’s not a witch. I am.”

“So, what, you hang out here and hurt people? Is that what actual witches do?” Sydney asked. “Why are you living in a human city?”

“Why would a human girl move into the mountains?” he countered.

“She was exiled.”

“Well, there you have it!”

“You were exiled?”

“Beasts can hurt humans, and they call them witches. Guardians can hurt spirits, and we call them beasts. I am a beast.” Eshun gestured to himself with a flourish of his hand, and Sydney groaned.

“Beasts and witches and guardians! Can you all make your terminology more confusing?” she said with exasperation. “What is a beast?”

“You’ve only heard it from the human perspective?” he asked. He sighed. “Of course you have. You were a human. ‘Beast’ is what spirits call human Guardians. Humans call our Guardians ‘witches.’ We don’t call anyone witches, because that is a human slur for us. Our slur for human Guardians, in return, is ‘beast.’ So humans would call me a ‘witch,’ but my sister—a witch, as humans would call her, or a Guardian, as I would call her—would call me a ‘beast.’”

“What even ever,” Sydney said, moaning. “I don’t care! I don’t think I can take much more of this stupid prejudiced garbage.”

“Don’t blame me for my society,” Eshun said with a shrug.

“It doesn’t matter. None of this matters,” Sydney said, waving her hand. “I don’t want to hear your life story, and I just really don’t care why you’re pretending to be a human. You’re a witch, and that’s all that matters to me. You can help me get into the castle. So, how are we going to do that?”

She looked at Eshun expectantly, and he released a slow sigh, turning his attention to the fire as he thought. His eyes flicked to her. “The castle is covered in wards, and you can’t get in by yourself as a spirit. You need a physical body,” he said. “I can provide that. Take my body, and do your work.”

“Your body? Like...how? How do I take your body?”

He reached into one of the pouches on his belt, pulling out a small bronze amulet. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, looking at Sydney.

“Your soul amulet?” she said.

“That’s right,” he responded, setting the amulet on his thigh. “And I guess you must also know what it does.”

“Wait,” Sydney said, eyeing his face, “when you say ‘take your body,’ do you mean as in possess you? I already tried to do that once, and it didn’t work.”

“You did?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Well, kind of...I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I did try.”

“How did you do it?” he asked. He crossed his arms, eyeing her with amusement.

“I, um...my friend took off her amulet and told me to will myself into her body, and I kind of ran at her.”

“You ‘kind of ran at her’?” he repeated, his amusement growing. “Is that how you will yourself to do something?”

“No, I mean, I didn’t just...” Sydney said, beginning to feel foolish. “I thought about doing it and hoped it would happen. That’s what I did.”

Eshun let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “Listen, girl. Everything has will. Humans flex their muscles, push up against things, and the things move. That’s will. Spirits do not have muscles to flex, but they use their form, their spirit, to move themselves, and therefore the physical world, if they please. That’s what you have to do.”

“I know how to make myself physical,” Sydney said. “Is that what you mean?”

“That is one way of doing it,” Eshun replied, letting another low chuckle slip out. “When you are given a container, you can fill it. Do you know why your previous possession didn’t work?”

“Because I didn’t try to fill her up right?”

“No,” he said. “Because a conscious beast isn’t a good container! What sort of idiot would walk right up to a beast who’s perfectly aware of her surroundings and try to possess her?” He leaned back and laughed.

“I didn’t know that was a thing,” Sydney said, frowning. “How would I know? I mean, she took off her amulet, too, so she should’ve been empty, right?”

“Where did she put it?”

“On the table.”

“Next to her?”

“...Yeah.”

He laughed again. “A beast’s soul amulet is also a ward!” he said. “What could have happened with a ward sitting right next to her?”

“So why would it be different with you?” Sydney said, fuming. “Yours is right there, too!”

“This is not a beast’s pendant,” he said, smirking. He picked it up and dangled it in front of her. “Do you know the difference between my amulet and your friend’s?”

“No. Why would I?” Sydney said, swatting it away. He retracted it.

“When a beast—a human Guardian, whatever—is born, their soul is removed from their physical body, but it’s still connected to it. We—spirit Guardians—are born from spirits. We aren’t physical at all! This amulet is made to give me an anchor and to help me attach my spirit to something physical, and then that thing becomes my avatar. It’s easier to interact with the world that way, and I don’t have to waste energy maintaining my connection to my avatar or willing myself to move the physical world. I have no durable connection to this body without my amulet.” He set the amulet back down on his leg again.

“So if you take it off, you lose your body?” she asked.

“This body is empty. It’s merely a puppet,” he said, and he opened his arms to show it off. “I am not inside of my amulet—I am free to move about as I please, just as human Guardians are free to do as they please, even when their amulets are kept safe at home miles away with their lovers. In the presence of an empty shell, my spirit can move it around no problem, with or without an amulet. And, should I wish to leave...”

A shadowy figure emerged from Eshun’s body, and the body collapsed into his seat, entirely unresponsive. The shadow became more solid, but it wasn’t as opaque as Sydney’s. Eshun, the real Eshun, a spirit that hardly resembled the man in the chair, smirked down at Sydney. “Do you see? This body is now yours to use.”

Sydney gaped at him. “But...” she said, looking down at the body across from her with dismay, “but then...did you make that body?”

The shadow evaporated, and Eshun sat up straight again, adjusting himself in his seat. “Does it look fake to you?”

“Then...is it dead?”

“Why do you think humans are afraid of witches?” Eshun asked, leaning back. Sydney felt a chill run down her back.

“I don’t want to use your body,” she said, looking away.

“Do you have a choice? You could allow the prince to be taken away.”

Sydney inhaled, staring through the grate of the stove. The fire leapt up and curled, and for a moment she thought she saw the eyes of the Witch King. Exhaling, she looked away and propped her chin up on her fist. “This place is fucked up,” she said.

“We play the cards we are dealt,” Eshun said. “If you want to give up your mission, you’re welcome to stay with me. I can help you establish a new life.”

“I’m not giving up,” Sydney said, straightening in her chair. “I can’t. Even if I did let him get taken away, I have his amulet.”

She reached into her shirt and removed the pendant for him to see, and his eyes widened. He leaned forward and reached for it. Sydney let him, and as she expected, his hand passed through it. He sat back and let his spirit lift from the body. Even as a spirit, his spectral hand passed through the pendant. “That does make a difference,” he said, releasing a low whistle. “This is more serious than I thought.”

“Even if they take him to Bayal without me, they can’t perform the marriage without this,” Sydney said. “That would just make everything worse, wouldn’t it? That’s what the prince said would happen.”

“Yes,” Eshun said. “Sit there for a moment. I will arrange a few things.”

His spirit moved through the table, and he pushed objects aside with his hands as he sat waist deep in the wood. Finally, he found a small vial of dust, which he opened and dumped into one of his hands. Walking out of the table and through his bed, he threw open the window and cupped his hands together, whispering words into the dust. He lifted the dust to his lips and blew. It flew off his palm and formed a bird in the air, which flew out of the window.

“Take that amulet off,” he said, turning to Sydney. “That would be another reason why you failed your first attempt at possession. You can’t possess a body with another person’s soul hanging around your neck.”

“Oh,” Sydney said, blinking. “But...will it be safe here?”

“I will be here to guard it,” Eshun said. “That is the amulet of my future Queen, after all. Take my body, and go to the castle. Be careful with it—you will have my amulet as well, and it will give you access to my magic.”

“It will?” Sydney asked, taken aback. “Wait, but I thought I couldn’t use your body if your amulet is attached to it!”

“I told you, this isn’t a human amulet. It is the opposite. My soul is free and my amulet maintains my connection to the body, while human souls naturally maintain a concrete connection to their bodies and their amulets allow their souls to be freed. As long as my amulet is attached to a body, that body will contain my power. Just don’t do anything foolish with my magic, understand? You must go to the back, where the servants enter. I will draw you a map. The court’s fool will meet you there. Tell him, ‘By the cover of this solemn night, our poor victim must take his flight.’ Don’t bother speaking to him unless you’re speaking in rhymes, and if he gets out of hand, give him a riddle to concentrate on. He’s strange, but he will help you.”

“Won’t he be...I dunno, not keen on helping us? He works for the Guardians, right?”

Eshun’s spirit smirked. “That’s an issue of business, girl. Leave that to me.”

Read previous chapters on the Witch King blog or use the chapter masterpost to navigate. To see works in progress and help my literary career, pledge to my Patreon! 

[e-vo-lu-ti-on]

Part 2

In the recent sequels, the semi-feudal futurism of Star Wars has been updated for an audience perhaps even less credulous of monarchies than it was in 1977, with Princess Leia converted into a general of a more or less republican anti-imperialist resistance. Black Panther is monarchist without apology. Its semi-feudal futurism is combined with the cultural nationalism historically associated not with the nominally connected Black Panther Party, but its adversary Ron Karenga’s US Organization – with which the Panthers had a violent shootout at UCLA leading to the deaths of Los Angeles Panther Captain Bunchy Carter and Deputy Minister John Huggins.

In Black Panther, we are presented with a mythology that makes anti-imperialist resistance unnecessary. In the Marvel myth of the African nation of Wakanda, initially created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and brought to the big screen by Disney, Third World poverty is not a result of the ravages of colonialism and the uneven exploitation of global capitalism. Rather, this poverty simply does not exist – it is an illusion intended to hide the wealth cultivated and protected by an African monarchy from time immemorial. Development exceeding that of advanced capitalism has already been achieved within a semi-feudal mode of production protected in the boundaries of a nation-state.

Our hero is the monarch T’Challa, whose drug-induced physical strength allows him to function as an isolationist superhero, keeping Wakanda’s wealth hidden from the outside world. In this mission he relies equally on a dizzying array of advanced technological gadgetry, reminiscent of imperialist agent James Bond.

But the Wakandan monarchy has a dirty secret. T’Challa’s father T’Chaka murdered his brother N’Jobu, who while undercover in Oakland – the city where Huey P. Newton and Bobby Seale founded the Black Panther Party in 1966 – had come to the conclusion that Wakanda’s advanced technology should be used to liberate black people around the world from poverty and oppression. Because this posed a threat to Wakanda’s national sovereignty, N’Jobu was eliminated and his son abandoned to grow up without his father.

N’Jobu’s son, Erik “Killmonger” Stevens, rises up with the goal not only of avenging his father’s murder, but also of claiming the Wakandan monarchy and using it to realize his father’s dream of international revolution. “Two billion people all over the world who look like us whose lives are much harder, and Wakanda has the tools to liberate them all,” he says to a skeptical Wakandan nobility. “Where was Wakanda?” These two political visions – of a global insurrection against oppression and the defense of the nation-state – are played out in the contest for the throne between the African monarch T’Challa and the urban African-American Killmonger, who the Wakandan nobility scorn as an “outsider.” As Christopher Lebron writes in Boston Review:

Rather than the enlightened radical, [Killmonger] comes across as the black thug from Oakland hell bent on killing for killing’s sake—indeed, his body is marked with a scar for every kill he has made. The abundant evidence of his efficacy does not establish Killmonger as a hero or villain so much as a receptacle for tropes of inner-city gangsterism.

T’Challa’s eventual victory against Killmonger is not achieved by African initiative alone, as the core figure of critical race theory Kimberlé Crenshaw has written. The visual spectacle of the film, Crenshaw reflects, “sucked me in like a narcotic and had me accepting things that made my heart ache upon reflection.” Its exuberant celebration of a purportedly timeless African essence represses its complicity with the history of racist violence. In Crenshaw’s words:

A civil war between Black families was unfolding over aiding other Black people, and… the CIA’s shooting down of vessels carrying technology into the fight against an anti-black world order was hailed as a heroic moment… I kept wondering how I’d come to dance on the table for the CIA? The ones that helped destroy the dream of African liberation, that had a hand in the assassination of Lumumba, staged a coup against Nkrumah, tipped off the arrest that imprisoned Mandela, installed the vicious, nation-destroying Mobutu? Why not throw in the FBI and COINTELPRO as kindly white characters? Was this meant to be ironic? What meaning do we assign the fact that the possibility of a real life Wakanda in the resource-rich Congo and Ghana, and the promise of a Pan African quest for collective self-determination were precisely the threats that the CIA worked to suppress?

After Killmonger is murdered by T’Challa, he says, “Bury me in the ocean with my ancestors that jumped from the ships, ‘cause they knew death was better than bondage.” But it is the lie told by Disney’s Black Panther that this is a binary choice. Killmonger’s last words are the closest the film gets to the actual historical contribution of Afrofuturism, in the negative form of a disavowal. The Afrofuturist Detroit techno group Drexciya proposed, in the liner notes to its 1997 The Quest:

During the greatest Holocaust the world has ever known, pregnant America-bound African slaves were thrown overboard by the thousands during labour for being sick and disruptive cargo. Is it possible that they could have given birth at sea to babies that never needed air? Are Drexciyans water-breathing aquatically mutated descendants of those unfortunate victims of human greed? Recent experiments have shown a premature human infant saved from certain death by breathing liquid oxygen through its underdeveloped lungs.

Drexciya’s Afrofuturist utopia builds on a concept introduced in Parliament’s follow-up to Funkentelechy Vs. The Placebo Syndrome, 1978’s Motor Booty Affair. On that album, George Clinton’s mythos moved from outer space to underwater, turning the myth of Atlantis into an alternative trajectory that begins with the North Atlantic slave trade. “We need to raise Atlantis from the bottom of the sea,” says the concluding track, “Deep.”

Achille Mbembe speaks of Black Panther as a futuristic fable, a “techno-narrative” whose power derives from its “reversal of the African sign,” recalling the diasporic “reflection on the possibility of a new world, of a black community which would be neither debased nor stamped with the seal of defilement.” The Afrofuturism of Black Panther, for Mbembe, is the overcoming of Western humanism from the vantage point of those who Western modernity assigned the space of the non-human. The future beyond Western humanism is prefigured by the coupling of the human body and the “quasi-infinite plasticity” of technology, and the concomitant transformation of the violated Earth of Africa into “astral material.”

However, from the vantage point of post-humanist Detroit, where the plasticity of technology subjected the diasporic black population to the tyranny of the automobile factory, Drexciya proposes an entirely different politics of Afrofuturism. Drexciyans do not belong to a counterfactual history insulated from the slave trade which lies at the foundation of capitalist modernity. Rather, they passed through it, and survived it, animating what Paul Gilroy called the “Black Atlantic.” Kodwo Eshun has described this diasporic continuüm, in a powerful review of The Quest, as “the ‘webbed network’ between the US and Africa, Latin America and Europe, the UK and the Caribbean along which information, people, records, and enforced dematerialisation systems have been routing, rerouting and criss-crossing since slavery.”

The Drexciyan Afrofuturist myth is a myth not of the nation-state, but of liberation. As Eshun puts it: “By inventing another outcome for the Middle Passage, this sonic fiction opens a bifurcation in time which alters the present by feeding back through its audience – you, the landlocked mutant descendent of the Slave Trade.” It is a myth which, as Nettrice R. Gaskins writes, “draws on modern African cultural ethos, technology, and artistic actuation by creating self-determined, representational worlds. In discourse of dissent, this is a place where the oppressed plot their liberation, where stolen or abandoned migrants survive adverse conditions.”

The film is aware of the greater power of the myth of this revolutionary Black Atlantis – and it recognizes that Killmonger, for so many viewers, will be its most sympathetic character. Thus T’Challa must somehow absorb Killmonger’s spirit of resistance and justice to bring the film to a palatable conclusion. He does so by reproducing the political placebo syndrome that came about in the late 20th century. Under his rule, Wakanda begins practicing the black capitalism that came to displace black power as the revolutionary movements of the 1960s and 1970s were crushed by the state and ran up against their own strategic and organizational deadlocks. He buys the condemned building where his uncle was murdered and establishes a center for STEM education – an investment of the Wakandan monarchy in urban development.

The character of the Black Panther was introduced in the Fantastic Four comic series three months before the founding of the Black Panther Party, but the name-recognition and credibility of the film in a political landscape marked by Black Lives Matter surely draws on the history of black liberation for which the BPP is such a powerful synecdoche. In her review of the film at The Baffler, Kaila Philo has noted precedents to its appropriations of BPP history and aesthetics, by cultural icons like Jay-Z and Beyoncé:

Black artists revere the Black Panthers because they have given us our most indelible images of Black radicalism and, more importantly, power; the Party’s staunch socialist and anti-imperialist ideology often falls to the wayside, however, because the power they seek is economic and not merely a function of the white capitalist credo, which leaves the poor behind. It’s this credo that quietly informs our best and brightest Black entertainers to this day.

In a 1970 letter to the National Liberation Front of Vietnam, founder of the Black Panther Party Huey P. Newton wrote, “we are interested in the people of any territory where the crack of the oppressor’s whip may be heard. We have the historical obligation to take the concept of internationalism to its final conclusion – the destruction of statehood itself.” With this revolutionary agenda suppressed and dismissed by today’s multicultural liberalism, Killmonger’s mission can only be, as Adam Serwer writes disingenuously in The Atlantic, the production of a new historical trauma, on the model of X-Men’s Magneto:

Killmonger’s plan for “black liberation,” arming insurgencies all over the world, is an American policy that has backfired and led to unforeseen disasters perhaps every single time it has been deployed; it is somewhat bizarre to see people endorse a comic-book version of George W. Bush’s foreign policy and sign up for the Project for the New Wakandan Century as long as the words “black liberation” are used instead of “democracy promotion.”

Arming insurgencies all over the world, however, was a project of internationalist revolutionaries long before George W. Bush, as Newton’s letter attests, and it is diametrically opposed to the violent entrenchment of nation-states in the existing imperial hierarchy represented by American neoconservatism. Revolutionary internationalism presents an alternative to the placebo syndrome of capitalist philanthropy, to which the liberal multicultural élite claims there is no alternative. Disney asks us which figure is worthy of the title of Black Panther: is it the poor African-American child from Oakland who dreams of international revolution, or the monarch who aims at defending the glory of his nation? History has already given us the answer.

[instapicsil3]

Sandy Alibo has spent the past few years patiently building and promoting @surfghana, the very first skate crew to come from Ghana. But when it came time for her and her partner, Kuukua Eshun, to make another dream a reality—a partner group called Skate Gal, exclusively for and by women—she wanted to push the subject matter beyond ollies and kick flips. “I wanted to really share more than just skateboarding with these girls,” Alibo said. “I wanted us to have a place to talk about work, life, family, inspiration. To be really happy to just have one another, to connect with other people.” Tap the link in our bio to read more. https://ift.tt/2IUf0Ny

[dianabcu-blog]

Glossary of Terms (Otolith Group and The Light Surgeons)

The Otolith group was founded in 2002 and consists of Anjalika Sagar and Kodwo Eshun (and others) who live and work in London. Their work is research based and spans the moving image, audio, performance, installation, and curation.

“Facelessnes that we really like.” That is how the members of Otolith group explain the reason behind their name.

Otolith group is building a new film culture based on a collective practice. They are not just making films, but also curating exhibitions, putting on discussions that brings people together instead of seperating the audience from film makers. The term integrated practice comes from the 80s and it means combining/coordinating seperate elements as to provide a harmonious, interrelated whole. With it they are building a new education system. 

They won a turner prize for  The Image in Question III . The Image in Question is a series of screening-events that explore the histories and potentials of the essayistic.  Four characters – the boy, an engineer, an industrialist and a journalist – are extracted and given a narrative voice in the contemporary world.

“The world doesn’t need any more films, the world doesn’t need any more video art – so you have to think it through.”

From researching sound I also came across an interesting group that I feel like has similar principles as the Otolith Group. The Light Surgeons make a variety of stuff. From documentary led audio/visual production to installation performances. They work with comercial artists to produce a visual element to a performance or they develop their own visual work. TLS try to develop live cinema approach to performance.

They made a live cinema work, a collaborative piece called Super Everything commissioned by the British Council. It was filmed in Malaysia and it touches issues with the environment - confusion of mass consumption, effect of the internet (and how does that affect our ‘freedom’).

When they were writing a proposal for the piece they worked on keywords for the video and what the outcome would be. They constructed a narrative of how different themes and subjects could sit together. 

The project involved extensive collaboration with a diverse group of Malaysian musicians and visual artists. An hour long performance is a multi layered audio/video piece with them reinterpreting footage/audio that they have gathered live on stage. As a framework they are bringing together people, ritual and play. It looks beautifully rich of Malaysian culture through the lens of identity. It touches the topic of who we are as human beings. 

We have to go beyond race, religion, creed.

The piece makes a point that there are deep fundamental questions that need to be answered, questions about justice, democracy and even freedom.

The sentence that stuck with me from a clip of the live performance is: “If we don’t know who we are, if we dont know where we have come from, how do we know where we are going?”

[connectza]

2017 Project - NON XCHANGE

NON XCHANGE materialises and builds upon the international connections already established by NON’s projects and artistic affiliations. Through performance, discussion, and exhibitions, NON XCHANGE confronts spatial violence and systemic exclusion, forming a cultural dissent against the structural legacy of colonialism.

NON XCHANGE is a multidisciplinary series of events, creating a borderless network for understanding, exchange and collaboration, taking place at various locations in the UK, Germany and South Africa.

Read more about the London programme:

2 June, 14:00-16:00hrs, ICA Theatre

The opening event of NON XCHANGE is a panel discussion, it will focus on individual and collective bodies that come together in resistance to existing hierarchies of power and structures of oppression. Departing from the performativity of the United Nations’ as a theatrical platform for global politics, the speakers will consider and reflect upon how artists can create social spaces that disrupt the flow of power. How does our investment in a notion of ‘global identity’ tie us to the valuation of a certain notion of community and the rejection of other evident bodies?

Chaired by curator and writer Osei Bonsu. Speakers include artist, DJ and writer Juliana Huxtable, Professor Akwugo Emejulu (University of Warwick) and filmmaker and academic Kodwo Eshun (Goldsmiths University).

June 2, 19:00-20:30hrs, ICA Cinema 1

NON XCHANGE will Premier a new film made in collaboration by Grace Wales Bonner, Harley Weir and Dev Hynes. It experimental film that consists of collaged footage taken of the dance scene in Johannesburg and Cape Town, revolving around the fantasy and reality of the life of Leroy Mokgatle, a 17-year-old ballet dancer from Pretoria, South Africa.

June 2, 21:00-03:00hrs, ICA Theatre & Bar Located in the ICA Bar will be a programme of videos by Bafic, Jody Brand, Akinola Davies and Tabitha Rezaire amongst others.

NON XCHANGE will present a programme of music and performance within a unique installation featuring commissioned flags and banners designed to echo the architecture of the United Nations General Assembly. It will feature artists from the South Africa, U.K and the U.S, including Angel Ho, Chino Amobi, Faka, Farai, Orethea, and Juliana Huxtable.

June 3, 16:00hrs, ACE Hotel London

Join NON citizens Chino Amobi, FAKA and Farai Bukowski-Bouquet at the ACE Hotel, London, for a panel discussion exploring the damaging power structures still present in experimental music, and the artists that confront, challenge and decohere the whiteness of noise and industrial genres. Investigating the ways in which artists can decolonise musical culture, the panel use the questions raised by writer, theorist and filmmaker Kodwo Eshun in his lecture Non Negation: Blackness out of Space: Noise out of Time: What emerges from this black noise that moves within and by way of the ab-normative traditions of white noise supremacy? The intransigence of Non Worldwide be and the belligerence of Babyfather might be heard as the conjuration of blackness out of space, of noise out of place and of matters out of time. What can be heard when blackness moves out of its space? When noise leaves its place? When matter matters?

NON XCHANGE TAKEOVER

4 June, 11:00-16:00hrs, Radar Radio

12 am - Curtly Ghallywood / Nollywood Radio

1- Juliana Huxtable Poetry Show

2 - FAKA

3 - Angel-Ho

4 - Chino Amobi

[soccernetghana]

Feature: The Rise and Struggles of Mysterious Dwarfs in recent times

[caption id="attachment_616323" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] Ebusua Dwarfs[/caption] They pride themselves as the best team in the central region, one of the traditional teams in the Ghana who have graced Ghana football from time memorial, Cape Coast Mysterious Dwarfs. A team that clasp on tradition has its strength of Cape Coasters always behind them and tout themselves as 'Ebusua'' which means family. They have an emblem ''crab'' that demonstrate the implacable spirit of Oguaaman. There is a platitude that whatever goes up surely must come down. Even in our facet of life, one goes through infancy, childhood, adolescent, adulthood, and old age and eventually die. When you take a product for instance, it goes through a product cycle that is, introduction, growth, maturity and decline at some point. So it is with football, where teams build, peak and decline. Some win trophies in the process whiles others do not before the decline. For Ebusua Dwarfs, their fans have had ambivalent experience for the past years. Seasons gone by, the ''Abontoa Abontoa'' club have achieved some feet that needs to be applauded. They have been able to produce players who had national teams call ups. The like of Rashid Sumaila, Kwame Frimpong, Seidu Bancey just to mention few. The notable one that will forever be remembered is Robert Mensah whose name has been used to name the park at Siwdu in Cape Coast. In recent times, the Cape Coast based team started some special with the late coach Nana Gyepi in the 2008/2009 division one league. He qualified them to the middle league when they placed second behind Tarkwa United after 14 matches, amassing 28 points. [caption id="attachment_458464" align="aligncenter" width="600"] Ebusua Dwarfs[/caption] Lamentably for the mysterious boys, they were unable to qualify from the middle league to the Premier League when they were beaten to the top by New Edubiase after three games each in a group. New Edubiase gained first ever promotion with seven points, followed by Dwarfs with six, Gold stars with four and Tarkwa United fallen to the bottom with no point. The tenacity of the team with crab symbol did not go unnoticed in the 2009/2010 as they qualified for the middle league for the second time. They came second with 27 points after Medeama (28) in the zone 2B. The former Dwarfs player guided his team to top their group this time around, winning all the three games with 9 points. Medeama came second with 6 points; Mine stars with 3 points and West ham United were at the bottom of the summit. Dwarfs appointed former black star captain John Eshun to head the technical area of the team after gaining promotion to the 2010/2011 premier league. Fast forward, they placed 11 th after 30 games with 41 points at the end of the 2010/2011 premier league. They had their staunch defender Rashid Sumaila adjudged the best defender of the season. As the 2011/2012 season was underway, coach John Eshun was sacked some few days before the commencement of the league due to dissensions at the technical area. Professor J.K.Mintah, the University of Cape Coast lecturer was appointed to lead the team. As we know for football, most often done not, coaches bring their philosophies and ideas to establish a way they will like their team to play. Professor J.K.Mintah was not an exception to that. The yellow and green side started the season not too bad as they got 9 points out of 15 points in their first five matches, they won their two home games (Bechem United, Berekum Arsenal) and drew 3 away games(Ashgold,Hearts of Lions, Mighty Jet). They looked promising and ended the season with 36 points after 30 games and placed 10 th on the league log. Position wise, it was a step forward compared to the 2010/2011 that is, from 11th to 10th . But point wise, it was a decline from 41 to 36. [caption id="attachment_257814" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Prof. Mintah of Ebusua Dwarfs[/caption] The total performance of the team at the end of the season saw the UCC lecturer con coach as runners up in the best coach category behind Maxwell Konadu of Kumasi Asante Kotoko. The former best defender in the 2010/2011, Rashid Sumaila maintained his position in the premier league team even though he could not win the best defender for the second time. As plans were afoot for the 2012/2013, Dwarfs sold their skipper Bismark Aseidu to Medeama, Rashid Sumaila and Seidu Bancey to Kotoko. Fast forward, the Crabs  were not encumbered by the sale of some key players but came fourth at the end of the 2012/2013 league season. They improved point wise and position wise, 50 points and 4 th respectively after 30 games. This granted them qualification to play the CAF Confederation in 2013/2014 season. Their highest achievement since 2000, when they were knocked out by Ismaily of Egypt in the quarter finals. An era with great prospect after an improvement in the previous season set the tone for the yellow and green fans to at least see their team win the premier league after trailing six points beneath the summit. The 2013/2014 season did not go well as expected by the 'Abontoa Abontoa' fans. Their coach (Professor J.K.Mintah) as part of his national duty as the psychologist for the Black stars, went on assignment with the Black star while dwarfs were preparing for a CAF Confederation match against Petro Atletico de Luanda of Angola. Management of Dwarfs was not happy with his decision to go with the national team as he had taken a sick leave in the ongoing season. These disagreements engendered the resignation of Professor J. K. Mintah. The team ended up being relegated as an era also came to an end. These were good times for the mysterious club. Players like Bismark Aseidu, Rashid Sumaila, Seidu Bancey, Stephen Aidoo just to mention few, played vital role in the process. We can say that for the past two decade, it was under the tutelage of professor J.K.Mintah that dwarfs played some silky football and CAF Confederation again. After his resignation, coaches like veteran J.E. Sarpong, Prosper Narteh, Da Rocha, Bashir Hayford, Robert Asibu all tried their best but could not achieve the feet of their predecessors. So one may ask what has caused them and still causing them not to rise to the occasion as we knew them previous years ago. [caption id="attachment_379336" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Dwarfs football club[/caption] Internal gossips from reps to management level have been a stymie to their progress. The team has it main management in Accra that gives room for rumors. These rumors go a long way to affect some decisions of management there by affecting the team negatively especially the apocryphal stories. Also, lack of proper planning is also a hindrance to their progress. Every team plans on what to achieve in short term, medium term and long term in terms of buying and selling players, structures etc. But it is the opposite for the yellow and green club. After 2012/2013 season, dwarfs have struggled to keep coaches who were performing at their tenure. The notable one was Ricardo Da Rocha who parted ways after placing 4 th in the 2016/17 league. Because of lack of clear direction, some players who were declining were brought to the club which stifled their progress at some point. Players like Ibrahim Musa and Gilbert Fiamenyo are classical example. Before the start of the 2019/20 season, the High Court in Cape Coast ordered for the liquidation of the Club over a 20 year debt that was to be paid to Great Liverpool on the transfer of their former player Patrick Villars. Again, there was no proper planning with the payment effect. The earlier they find a proper plan to this problem, the better. Furthermore, getting a sponsorship cannot be overlooked. As money is not easy to come by especially in Ghana, sponsorship goes a long way to help clubs pay salaries of players, staffs, infrastructures and many more. Salaries of players have been a problem for Dwarfs especially after the death of their bankroller Nana Adu. There are some salaries outstanding yet to be paid amid covid-19. The club would have to get a vibrant marketing team to draft proposals for sponsorship giving assurance to the sponsors the mileage and benefit they would get when they come on board. This will help pay players well enough to give their best to the club. With the right materials and the above hobbles solved, the 'Idepandey Idekay' boys along with management and fans will see their team rise again. Mysterious Dwarfs won the Ghana premier league in 1965/66 league and the FA cup in the 1968 and will hope to win it again. [caption id="attachment_815803" align="aligncenter" width="597"] Dwarfs performance[/caption] By Kwasi Baffoe baffoediccey@gmail.com source: https://ghanasoccernet.com/

[mealha]

‘A queer person can be anybody’: the African photographers exploring identity

In his new book, Africa State of Mind, Ekow Eshun celebrates contemporary African photography. Here he showcases the work of artists looking at the self and sexuality, from Zanele Muholi to Eric Gyamfi

In August 2009, an exhibition titled Innovative Women opened in Johannesburg, aiming to showcase the work of the city’s young black female artists. The launch was attended by Lulu Xingwana, minister for arts and culture at the time, who had been invited to officially open the show. But instead of giving a speech, Xingwana stormed out of the gallery after seeing images by the photographer Zanele Muholi that depicted naked women in close embrace. Muholi’s work, said the minister, was immoral, offensive and ran contrary to “social cohesion and nation-building”. South Africa has one of the most progressive constitutions in the world, with discrimination on the basis of sexuality barred by law. Yet censorious attitudes such as Xingwana’s towards homosexuality are widespread. Almost three-quarters of the population believe same-sex sexual activity is morally wrong, according to a 2016 survey. Similarly intolerant views are commonplace across Africa. Homosexuality is outlawed in 32 of the continent’s 54 nations. It is punishable by life imprisonment in Uganda, Tanzania and Sierra Leone. In Sudan, southern Somalia, Somaliland, Mauritania and northern Nigeria, the penalty is death. Against that backdrop the work of a photographer such as Muholi takes on a dual role, both representing individual artistic expression and operating as a form of political activism; a means to positively assert LGBTQ+ identity in straitened circumstances.

Ama and Shana at lunch by Eric Gyamfi, 2016 Gay relationships are illegal in Ghana, where photographer Gyamfi was born, but the tender, intimate images in the series Just Like Us, where Gyamfi documents life in the country’s queer communities, do not dwell on the sexuality of his subjects but emphasise their ordinariness.

Afrikan Boy Sittin’ by Hassan Hajjaj, 2013 With its explosion of colours and distinctive handmade frame, this image typifies the powerful and assertive nature of the Morocco-born photographer’s work. Hajjaj’s portraits confront prejudices about culture and identity head on.

Vintage by Sabelo Mlangeni, 2009 The South African photographer, who works mainly in black and white, documents queer life in the townships of Mpumalanga province in his Country Girls series. Homophobic violence is routine in the towns he visits, yet his work creates scenes of aspirational normality.

Bhekezakhe, Parktown by Zanele Muholi, 2016 The self-portrait is part of a project entitled Somnyama Ngonyama (Hail, the Dark Lioness), in which the South African artist uses direct, psychologically charged images to confront the politics of race and representation.

Kingsley Ossai, Nsukka, Enugu state, Nigeria by Ruth Ossai, 2017 Part of a series in which the British-Nigerian artist trains the lens on people from her local community, the image challenges ideas about gender, masculinity and what it means to be a man. Ossai’s sitters wore clothes that blur the boundaries between menswear and womenswear.

Continue reading... from Photography | The Guardian https://ift.tt/38WgAIp

[footballghana]

FEATURE: The ‘Rise and Struggles’ of Mysterious Dwarfs in recent times

They pride themselves as the best team in the central region, one of the traditional teams in the Ghana who have graced Ghana football from time memorial, Cape Coast Mysterious Dwarfs.

A team that clasp on tradition has its strength of Cape Coasters always behind them and tout themselves as 'Ebusua'' which means family.

They have an emblem ''crab'' that demonstrate the implacable spirit of Oguaaman. There is a platitude that whatever goes up surely must come down.

Even in our facet of life, one goes through infancy, childhood, adolescent, adulthood, and old age and eventually die.

When you take a product for instance, it goes through a product cycle that is, introduction, growth, maturity and decline at some point.

So it is with football, where teams build, peak and decline.

Some win trophies in the process whiles others do not before the decline. For Ebusua Dwarfs, their fans have had ambivalent experience for the past years.

Seasons gone by, the ''Abontoa Abontoa'' club have achieved some feet that needs to be applauded.

They have been able to produce players who had national teams call ups.

The like of Rashid Sumaila, Kwame Frimpong, Seidu Bancey just to mention few.

The notable one that will forever be remembered is Robert Mensah whose name has been used to name the park at Siwdu in Cape Coast.

In recent times, the Cape Coast based team started some special with the late coach Nana Gyepi in the 2008/2009 division one league.

He qualified them to the middle league when they placed second behind Tarkwa United after 14 matches, amassing 28 points.

Lamentably for the mysterious boys, they were unable to qualify from the middle league to the Premier League when they were beaten to the top by New Edubiase after three games each in a group.

New Edubiase gained first ever promotion with seven points, followed by Dwarfs with six, Gold stars with four and Tarkwa United fallen to the bottom with no point.

The tenacity of the team with crab symbol did not go unnoticed in the 2009/2010 as they qualified for the middle league for the second time.

They came second with 27 points after Medeama (28) in the zone 2B.

The former Dwarfs player guided his team to top their group this time around, winning all the three games with 9 points. Medeama came second with 6 points; Mine stars with 3 points and West ham United were at the bottom of the summit.

Dwarfs appointed former black star captain John Eshun to head the technical area of the team after gaining promotion to the 2010/2011 premier league.

Fast forward, they placed 11 th after 30 games with 41 points at the end of the 2010/2011 premier league.

They had their staunch defender Rashid Sumaila adjudged the best defender of the season.

As the 2011/2012 season was underway, coach John Eshun was sacked some few days before the commencement of the league due to dissensions at the technical area.

Professor J.K.Mintah, the University of Cape Coast lecturer was appointed to lead the team.

As we know for football, most often done not, coaches bring their philosophies and ideas to establish a way they will like their team to play.

Professor J.K.Mintah was not an exception to that.

The yellow and green side started the season not too bad as they got 9 points out of 15 points in their first five matches, they won their two home games (Bechem United, Berekum Arsenal) and drew 3 away games(Ashgold,Hearts of Lions, Mighty Jet).

They looked promising and ended the season with 36 points after 30 games and placed 10 th on the league log.

Position wise, it was a step forward compared to the 2010/2011 that is, from 11th to 10th .

But point wise, it was a decline from 41 to 36.

[caption id="attachment_756076" align="alignnone" width="300"] Prof. Mintah of Ebusua Dwarfs[/caption]

The total performance of the team at the end of the season saw the UCC lecturer con coach as runners up in the best coach category behind Maxwell Konadu of Kumasi Asante Kotoko.

The former best defender in the 2010/2011, Rashid Sumaila maintained his position in the premier league team even though he could not win the best defender for the second time.

As plans were afoot for the 2012/2013, Dwarfs sold their skipper Bismark Aseidu to Medeama, Rashid Sumaila and Seidu Bancey to Kotoko.

Fast forward, the Crabs  were not encumbered by the sale of some key players but came fourth at the end of the 2012/2013 league season.

They improved point wise and position wise, 50 points and 4 th respectively after 30 games.

This granted them qualification to play the CAF Confederation in 2013/2014 season.

Their highest achievement since 2000, when they were knocked out by Ismaily of Egypt in the quarter finals.

An era with great prospect after an improvement in the previous season set the tone for the yellow and green fans to at least see their team win the premier league after trailing six points beneath the summit.

The 2013/2014 season did not go well as expected by the 'Abontoa Abontoa' fans.

Their coach (Professor J.K.Mintah) as part of his national duty as the psychologist for the Black stars, went on assignment with the Black star while dwarfs were preparing for a CAF Confederation match against Petro Atletico de Luanda of Angola.

Management of Dwarfs was not happy with his decision to go with the national team as he had taken a sick leave in the ongoing season.

These disagreements engendered the resignation of Professor J. K. Mintah. The team ended up being relegated as an era also came to an end.

These were good times for the mysterious club. Players like Bismark Aseidu, Rashid Sumaila, Seidu Bancey, Stephen Aidoo just to mention few, played vital role in the process.

We can say that for the past two decade, it was under the tutelage of professor J.K.Mintah that dwarfs played some silky football and CAF Confederation again.

After his resignation, coaches like veteran J.E. Sarpong, Prosper Narteh, Da Rocha, Bashir Hayford, Robert Asibu all tried their best but could not achieve the feet of their predecessors.

So one may ask what has caused them and still causing them not to rise to the occasion as we knew them previous years ago.

Internal gossips from reps to management level have been a stymie to their progress.

The team has it main management in Accra that gives room for rumors. These rumors go a long way to affect some decisions of management there by affecting the team negatively especially the apocryphal stories.

Also, lack of proper planning is also a hindrance to their progress. Every team plans on what to achieve in short term, medium term and long term in terms of buying and selling players, structures etc.

But it is the opposite for the yellow and green club. After 2012/2013 season, dwarfs have struggled to keep coaches who were performing at their tenure.

The notable one was Ricardo Da Rocha who parted ways after placing 4 th in the 2016/17 league.

Because of lack of clear direction, some players who were declining were brought to the club which stifled their progress at some point. Players like Ibrahim Musa and Gilbert Fiamenyo are classical example.

Before the start of the 2019/20 season, the High Court in Cape Coast ordered for the liquidation of the Club over a 20 year debt that was to be paid to Great Liverpool on the transfer of their former player Patrick Villars.

Again, there was no proper planning with the payment effect.

The earlier they find a proper plan to this problem, the better. Furthermore, getting a sponsorship cannot be overlooked.

As money is not easy to come by especially in Ghana, sponsorship goes a long way to help clubs pay salaries of players, staffs, infrastructures and many more.

Salaries of players have been a problem for Dwarfs especially after the death of their bankroller Nana Adu.

There are some salaries outstanding yet to be paid amid covid-19.

The club would have to get a vibrant marketing team to draft proposals for sponsorship giving assurance to the sponsors the mileage and benefit they would get when they come on board.

This will help pay players well enough to give their best to the club. With the right materials and the above hobbles solved, the 'Idepandey Idekay' boys along with management and fans will see their team rise again.

Mysterious Dwarfs won the Ghana premier league in 1965/66 league and the FA cup in the 1968 and will hope to win it again.

  Source: Kwasi Baffoe

source: https://footballghana.com/

[neferdede]

The Financial Blueprint 101 : Money Talks, Money Matters

Chief Executive Women NYC

August 10, 2019

Chief Executive Women NYC held our second annual event. Financial literacy and financial freedom are the keys to living a stress free life. We aimed to bring something different to our community. This well thought out event took place at Hudson Terrace NYC. My role handing the creative aspects and socials approaching the event was tiresome yet worth it in the end. It was an overall success and I couldn’t be more proud of my team for pulling it off. Our special guest presenters Joseph K. Danso, Marquita Eshun, and Nicole Purvy equally left us feeling more knowledgeable and comfortable about fiance than when we entered the building. Great thing have small and humble beginnings. I cannot wait to plan and curate future vents that will be beneficial for the millennial generation in the long run.

Scared Money Don’t Make No Money !

Faith > Fear

Visit ChiefExecutiveWomen.com to learn more about our events and get involved today !