#not just in the U.S. but across the 'western' world

[stillnaomi]

World War III and the Fall of Imperialism

A speech by Booker Ngesa Omole, The National Vice Chairperson of the Communist Party of Kenya

As we gather here at the 7th International Conference of the World Anti-Imperialist Platform, we stand at a critical juncture in our shared struggle against the scourge of imperialism. Today, I want to discuss a stark reality that looms over our world: the inevitability of World War III, driven by the unrelenting aggression of imperialist powers. This war is not a distant possibility but a present danger, rooted in the insatiable greed of monopoly capital.

Imperialism, in its various manifestations, poses an existential threat to the sovereignty of African nations. Initiatives such as AFRICOM serve as instruments of this imperialist agenda, undermining our autonomy and reducing our countries to mere pawns in the geopolitical chess game orchestrated by Western powers. These military strategies are designed not to protect our people but to secure the interests of the imperialist elite.

In Kenya alone, we host three foreign military bases, a glaring testament to the erosion of our sovereignty. These bases are not just symbols of military presence; they represent a direct violation of our independence and dignity. They subjugate our military and intelligence agencies to the whims of U.S. imperialism, turning our institutions into extensions of foreign powers. This scenario is replicated across the continent, where foreign military presence is a common thread in the tapestry of imperialist domination.

The spectre of World War III is already haunting us, as conflicts rage on multiple fronts. In West Asia, the struggle against Zionist aggression is an anti-imperialist, antifascist war. In Eastern Europe, we witness the brutal realities of NATO-backed conflict in Ukraine. And in East Asia, tensions simmer around Taiwan and the Korean Peninsula, echoing the same imperialist ambitions.

Lenin, in his classic work “Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism,” eloquently articulated the dynamics of imperialism and its inevitable contradictions. He described how imperialism seeks to escape internal crises through external wars. Today, we observe this in the provocations and military exercises conducted by the United States and its allies, which serve not just as a show of force but as desperate attempts to maintain their declining hegemony.

Yet, amidst this chaos, the anti-imperialist camp is rising, united in its struggle against oppression. Comrades in Russia, China, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, Iran, and various resistance movements across the Global South are not seeking war; they are prepared for a just struggle against imperialist aggression. The unity and operational strength of the anti-imperialist front underscore a powerful truth: we are not alone in this fight.

The reliance of imperialism on proxy wars and economic sanctions reveals its strategic limitations. The imperialist powers fear direct confrontation, knowing the consequences of nuclear escalation. This hesitation will be their downfall. While they aim to exhaust nations like Russia, China, and Iran, we can turn their war of attrition into decisive victories across multiple theatres of conflict. These victories will not only weaken imperialism militarily but will also trigger a political and economic collapse. The fragmentation of NATO, the decline of the U.S. dollar’s hegemony, and the emergence of BRICS and other alternative institutions signal the end of the US imperialist order.

The eventual defeat of US imperialism will pave the way for a new global order defined by national liberation revolutions and the defeat of all neo-colonial projects across Africa, Asia, and Latin America. This new order will also see the inevitable resurgence of socialist revolutions and the establishment of people’s democracies. Additionally, there will be a true commitment to peace, independence, and self-determination as guiding principles for global governance.

As we face the challenges of our time, let us reaffirm our commitment to the struggle against imperialism. The victory belongs to the people. The end of imperialism will not only reshape global politics but empower nations to pursue socialism, democracy, and peaceful coexistence.

In conclusion, as we confront the spectre of World War III, let us remember that this is a final confrontation between the forces of imperialism and those of anti-imperialist resistance. Together, we shall emerge victorious, heralding a new era of hope, freedom, and progress for all.

Death to Imperialism!

Long live International Socialism!

[la0hu]

so many tiktok memes are insanely misogynistic but steeped in juuuuuust enough post-post-post irony for all these chronically online women to plead the fifth. "girl dinner." "i'm just a girl (in the world, that's all i'll ever be)." and now this "very demure" thing. like regardless of how self-aware, sarcastic, or genuinely critical of antifeminism the source material is, somehow these memed phrases become tools to reinforce the idea that women are delicate, soft, helpless, brainless, small creatures not worth taking seriously. that's how they're used. that's what the punchline always becomes. it's all so coquette adjacent, which is just repackaged white supremacist radfem trad wifery. even the whole "brat summer" thing is starting to become grating. i'd actually prefer someone called me a bitch rather than a brat, because at least a bitch sounds like she could actually do something, like she still has teeth

[zvaigzdelasas]

Major coordinated demonstrations took place across the world on Saturday to mark the 100th day of Israel's bombardment and military assault on the people of the Gaza Strip that have now claimed the lives of nearly 24,000 Palestinians, a large majority of them innocent men, women, and children who had nothing to do with the attacks orchestrated by Hamas on October 7 of last year.

In London, as many as 500,000 people marched on Parliament Square to demand an immediate cease-fire Gaza, condemn their own U.K. government's support of Israel's disproportionate and "genocidal" onslaught, and warn against a wider regional war that experts warn is creeping closer by the day.[...]

In Dublin, organizers of a march that saw more than 100,000 march through city streets called it the largest rally for Palestinian rights in Irish history.[...]

The crowd was filled with Palestinian flags, posters calling for an "End to the Gaza genocide" as well as makeshift washing lines, with baby clothes hanging from it, representing the many young lives lost in the conflict.

At the front of the march, four people held mock corpses in bloody body bags to represent the growing number of civilian casualties.

In the United States, tens of thousands marched in Washington, D.C. to denounce the Israeli onslaught—which has claimed over 23,000 lives, including more than 10,000 children—as well as their own government's complicity in the carnage. President Joe Biden was on the tip of many demonstrators' tongues and polls in the U.S. have shown very little support across the political spectrum for how he is handling the situation.[...]

Following the march, demonstrators left a pile of bloodied baby dolls, including severe parts, in a pile outside the White House as a message to Biden. "The blood of the over 10,000 murdered children in Gaza is on his hands," said CodePink co-founder Jodie Evans.

Meanwhile, in Indonesia, thousands gathered outside the U.S. embassy in Jakarta to condemn the ongoing "genocide" in Gaza perpetrated by Israel with the backing of the U.S. government and other Western allies.

Large protests were also held in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia as well as in the South African cities of Cape Town and Johannesburg. [...]

Cities in Israel were not among those holding large-scale demonstrations against the government's ongoing military campaign in Gaza. One application by Israelis for a rally in Haifa to denounce the onslaught was rejected.

13 Jan 24

[reasonsforhope]

"Nasir Mansoor has spent 40 years fighting for Pakistan’s workers. Whether demanding compensation on behalf of the hundreds of people who died in a devastating 2012 factory fire in Karachi or demonstrating against Pakistani suppliers to global fashion brands violating minimum wage rules, he’s battled many of the country’s widespread labor injustices.

Yet so far, little has improved, said Mansoor, who heads Pakistan’s National Trade Union Federation in Karachi... Regulations and trade protocols look good on paper, but they rarely trickle down to the factory level. “Nobody cares,” Mansoor said. “Not the government who makes commitments, not the brands, and not the suppliers. The workers are suffering.”

Change on the Horizon

But change might finally be on the horizon after Germany’s new Supply Chain Act came into force last year. As Europe’s largest economy and importer of clothing, Germany now requires certain companies to put risk-management systems in place to prevent, minimize, and eliminate human rights violations for workers across their entire global value chains. Signed into law by German Chancellor Olaf Scholz in January 2023, the law covers issues such as forced labor, union-busting, and inadequate wages, for the first time giving legal power to protections that were previously based on voluntary commitments. Companies that violate the rules face fines of up to 8 million euros ($8.7 million)...

...As governments come to realize that a purely voluntary regimen produces limited results, there is now a growing global movement to ensure that companies are legally required to protect the people working at all stages of their supply chains.

The German law is just the latest example of these new due diligence rules—and it’s the one with the highest impact, given the size of the country’s market. A number of other Western countries have also adopted similar legislation in recent years, including France and Norway. A landmark European Union law that would mandate all member states to implement similar regulation is in the final stages of being greenlighted.

Although the United States has legislation to prevent forced labor in its global supply chains, such as the 2021 Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act, there are no federal laws that protect workers in other countries from abuses that fall short of forced labor. That said, a proposed New York state bill, the Fashion Act, would legally require most major U.S. and international brands to identify, prevent, and remediate human rights violations in their supply chain if passed, with noncompliance subject to fines. Since major fashion brands could hardly avoid selling their products in New York, the law would effectively put the United States on a similar legal level as Germany and France...

The Results So Far

As of January, Germany’s new law applies to any company with at least 1,000 employees in the country, which covers many of the world’s best-known fast fashion retailers, such as Zara and Primark. Since last January [Jan 2023], German authorities say they have received 71 complaints or notices of violations and conducted 650 of their own assessments, including evaluating companies’ risk management.

In Pakistan, the very existence of the German law was enough to spark action. Last year, Mansoor and other union representatives reached out to fashion brands that sourced some of their clothing in Pakistan to raise concerns about severe labor violations in garment factories. Just four months later, he and his colleagues found themselves in face-to-face meetings with several of those brands—a first in his 40-year career. “This is a big achievement,” he said. “Otherwise, [the brands] never sit with us. Even when the workers died in the factory fire, the brand never sat with us.” ...

-via The Fuller Project, April 2, 2024. Article headers added by me.

Article continues below, with more action-based results, including one factory that "complied, agreeing to respect minimum wages and provide contract letters, training on labor laws, and—for the first time—worker bonuses"

With the help of Mansoor and Zehra Khan, the general secretary of the Home-Based Women Workers Federation, interviews with more than 350 garment workers revealed the severity of long-known issues.

Nearly all workers interviewed were paid less than a living wage, which was 67,200 Pakistan rupees (roughly $243) per month in 2022, according to the Asia Floor Wage Alliance. Nearly 30 percent were even paid below the legal minimum wage of 25,000 Pakistani rupees per month (roughly $90) for unskilled workers. Almost 100 percent had not been given a written employment contract, while more than three-quarters were either not registered with the social security system—a legal requirement—or didn’t know if they were.

When Mansoor, Khan, and some of the organizations raised the violations with seven global fashion brands implicated, they were pleasantly surprised. One German retailer reacted swiftly, asking its supplier where the violations had occurred to sign a 14-point memorandum of understanding to address the issues. (We’re unable to name the companies involved because negotiations are ongoing.) The factory complied, agreeing to respect minimum wages and provide contract letters, training on labor laws, and—for the first time—worker bonuses.

In February [2024], the factory registered an additional 400 workers with the social security system (up from roughly 100) and will continue to enroll more, according to Khan. “That is a huge number for us,” she said.

It’s had a knock-on effect, too. Four of the German brand’s other Pakistani suppliers are also willing to sign the memorandum, Khan noted, which could impact another 2,000 workers or so. “The law is opening up space for [the unions] to negotiate, to be heard, and to be taken seriously,” said Miriam Saage-Maass, the legal director at ECCHR.

Looking Forward with the EU

...Last month [in March 2024], EU member states finally approved a due diligence directive after long delays, during which the original draft was watered down. As it moves to the next stage—a vote in the European Parliament—before taking effect, critics argue that the rules are now too diluted and cover too few companies to be truly effective. Still, the fact that the EU is acting at all has been described as an important moment, and unionists such as Mansoor and Khan wait thousands of miles away with bated breath for the final outcome.

Solidarity from Europe is important, Khan said, and could change the lives of Pakistan’s workers. “The eyes and the ears of the people are looking to [the brands],” Mansoor said. “And they are being made accountable for their mistakes.”"

-via The Fuller Project, April 2, 2024. Article headers added by me.

[bekaterrier]

A few other wonderful shows I wanted to shoutout for BIPOCtober, with BIPOC creators and/or leads:

A Ninth World Journal: Based on Numenera, a tabletop roleplaying game, and written, produced and performed by David S. Dear (plus guests). Set one billion years in the future… it’s the story of Januae, a man who randomly teleports to strange and dangerous places with no way of controlling it.

@meteorcitypod: In 2008, a freak meteor shower hit Detroit, killing hundreds and displacing thousands. Hundreds of people were quarantined for radiation exposure. 10 years later, Bianca Diaz, a vlogger returns to tell the stories of the dead, the missing, and the remaining citizens of Detroit, now called Meteor City. Shortly after returning, Bianca realizes that Meteor City, New Detroit, and the people left behind are not what they appear to be...

@witcheverpath: An interactive horror anthology podcast. Their current story is Message in a Bottle. A siren misses what was taken from her, but as she swims out to sea, she discovers a bottle that may change the course of her life.

@radio-outcast: A fantasy-western audio drama. When Helix, the Messenger God of Sound, gets yanked from the 1980s and sent to the 1880s by her abusive ex-lover, the God of Time, she must forge unlikely alliances with two humans: Jesse, a cowboy out for revenge, and Charles, a conman running from his past. The three of them embark on a journey across the American West, each with their own goals and secrets waiting to be revealed

@vegapodcast: A Sci-Fi Adventure Podcast!: In a fantasy futuristic world, Vega Rex is employed by her government to kill off the world's worst criminals. She's never met a criminal she couldn't catch...until now. Join Vega as she journeys through a world of bumbling apprentices, powerful technogods, and her biggest challenge yet

@noadventurespod: A fantasy (un)adventure story that follows Sig, the owner of Signature Eats bakery, as he aggressively avoids becoming embroiled in any daring quests or chosen one shenanigans even though the universe really seems to want him to do just that. This is a story about cutting the Hero’s Journey off at the knees to chill with friends. And also baking. This is also a story about baking.

Harlem Queen: A Black historical fiction audio drama based on the life and times of Black, woman, gangster "Numbers Queen" Madame Stephanie St. Clair during the Harlem Renaissance (the story takes place around 1926-32). She fought the "big boys" (Lucky Luciano and Dutch Schultz) and won.

@herebedragonspod: When the body of a previously unknown aquatic creature washes up on shore, four women are called together for the expedition of a lifetime. Tasked by the U.S. Government to find and record evidence of this new breed of sea monster, Harper Bennett, Pippa Cambell, Lt. Commander Adrienne Scarlett and Dr. Natalya Atlas set off into the untamed wilds of The Bermuda Triangle.

@unwellpodcast: A Midwestern Gothic Mystery. Lillian Harper moves to the small town of Mt. Absalom, Ohio, to care for her estranged mother Dorothy after an injury. Living in the town's boarding house which has been run by her family for generations, she discovers conspiracies, ghosts, and a new family in the house's strange assortment of residents.

Fan Wars: The Empire Claps Back: A not-so-romantic comedy about two star wars fans on opposite sides of the Last Jedi debate.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Soon after my arrival at the Transgender Center, I was struck by the lack of formal protocols for treatment. The center’s physician co-directors were essentially the sole authority.

At first, the patient population was tipped toward what used to be the “traditional” instance of a child with gender dysphoria: a boy, often quite young, who wanted to present as—who wanted to be—a girl. 

Until 2015 or so, a very small number of these boys comprised the population of pediatric gender dysphoria cases. Then, across the Western world, there began to be a dramatic increase in a new population: Teenage girls, many with no previous history of gender distress, suddenly declared they were transgender and demanded immediate treatment with testosterone. 

I certainly saw this at the center. One of my jobs was to do intake for new patients and their families. When I started there were probably 10 such calls a month. When I left there were 50, and about 70 percent of the new patients were girls. Sometimes clusters of girls arrived from the same high school. 

This concerned me, but didn’t feel I was in the position to sound some kind of alarm back then. There was a team of about eight of us, and only one other person brought up the kinds of questions I had. Anyone who raised doubts ran the risk of being called a transphobe. 

The girls who came to us had many comorbidities: depression, anxiety, ADHD, eating disorders, obesity. Many were diagnosed with autism, or had autism-like symptoms. A report last year on a British pediatric transgender center found that about one-third of the patients referred there were on the autism spectrum.

Frequently, our patients declared they had disorders that no one believed they had. We had patients who said they had Tourette syndrome (but they didn’t); that they had tic disorders (but they didn’t); that they had multiple personalities (but they didn’t). 

The doctors privately recognized these false self-diagnoses as a manifestation of social contagion. They even acknowledged that suicide has an element of social contagion. But when I said the clusters of girls streaming into our service looked as if their gender issues might be a manifestation of social contagion, the doctors said gender identity reflected something innate.

To begin transitioning, the girls needed a letter of support from a therapist—usually one we recommended—who they had to see only once or twice for the green light. To make it more efficient for the therapists, we offered them a template for how to write a letter in support of transition. The next stop was a single visit to the endocrinologist for a testosterone prescription. 

That’s all it took. 

Archive here

Read this whole thing. What I quoted is just the tip of the iceberg. We were right about everything.

[mariacallous]

A decade ago, the U.S. Congress was on the cusp of passing a bill that would have legalized most of the nearly 11 million unauthorized migrants living in the United States and put them on a path to citizenship. Now, come Jan. 20, the country is set to launch what will likely be the largest mass deportation effort in its history.

“We know who you are, and we’re going to come and find you,” said Thomas Homan one day after President-elect Donald Trump named him as the incoming administration’s “border czar,” responsible for border security and the removal of unauthorized migrants. Homan has promised to carry out “the biggest deportation operation this country’s ever seen.”

If he succeeds, it will reshape migration for a generation or longer—not just in the United States but in much of the world.

This moment has been building slowly. Since roughly the 1960s, most of the advanced economies—with the notable exception of Japan—gradually opened themselves to larger flows of migrants. In the United States, the foreign-born share of the population rose from less than 5 percent in 1970 to nearly 15 percent today; in Britain, that share rose from a little more than 6 percent to more than 16 percent.

Most Western countries saw immigration as an economic winner, bringing talent and ambition and helping fill labor shortages in occupations from farm work to health care. There was a strong humanitarian impulse as well: Horrified by the refusal of most countries to admit European Jews fleeing Nazi persecution before and during the Second World War, Western countries adopted generous refugee and asylum laws obligating them to admit many of those escaping persecution, torture, or death threats around the world.

But in the 21st century, that welcoming spirit has crumbled. In the 2000s, Congress tried several times to pass legislation to legalize unauthorized migrants who were longtime U.S. residents, as it had done during the administration of President Ronald Reagan in 1986. The most recent effort failed in the House of Representatives in 2014, despite support from more than two-thirds of senators, including 14 Republicans.

Then over the past decade, both the United States and Europe faced a series of migration crises, with displaced people arriving at their borders in far larger numbers than governments could handle or their populations were willing to accept. Tinkering with asylum processing and enlisting help from neighboring states such as Mexico or Turkey bought occasional breathing room—until the number of arrivals would inevitably soar again, creating a fresh crisis.

With the growing number of migrants fleeing conflict, violence, or economic collapse—the number of displaced persons worldwide has doubled over the past decade, to nearly 120 million today—immigration has become more politically charged across the world. In Europe, populist parties running on anti-immigrant platforms have made widespread gains. Even countries that have historically welcomed large numbers of migrants, such as Canada and Australia, have become warier and are reducing immigration quotas.

But no country faces an about-face as stark as that in the United States. Trump returns to the White House with what he believes is a mandate to sweep the country of unauthorized migrants, including millions who have been in the United States for decades and millions more who have arrived in the past four years and enjoy temporary legal status under the Biden administration’s more generous schemes.

Trump’s first appointments attest to his seriousness. Homan has four decades of experience on migration issues; as the acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) during Trump’s first term, he was the architect of the controversial policy of separating migrant parents from their children when they crossed the border from Mexico illegally.

Trump’s new deputy chief of staff for policy, Stephen Miller, has spent the last 15 years schooling himself in the intricacies of U.S. immigration laws to wield them in the service of a xenophobic agenda. At Trump’s Madison Square Garden rally in late October, Miller told the cheering crowd that “America is for Americans and Americans only.”

And the president-elect’s nominee to head the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), Gov. Kristi Noem, deployed National Guard troops from her state of South Dakota to help stop migrants at the Texas-Mexico border.

It is not at all clear, however, that Americans actually voted for this agenda. Immigration was a big issue in the campaign, but surveys indicate that it ran well behind the state of the economy and was a second-tier issue alongside health care, national security, the Supreme Court, and the future of democracy.

Polls on immigration are also all over the map. A September Pew Research poll found that nearly 9 in 10 Trump supporters, and 56 percent of registered voters overall, said that they favor “mass deportations of immigrants living in the country illegally,” suggesting strong support for the Trump agenda. But 58 percent also favor allowing undocumented immigrants to remain in the country if they are married to a U.S. citizen. And considerably higher majorities—including half or more of Trump supporters—want to admit more refugees, foreign college graduates, and immigrants who can fill labor shortages.

The new administration’s actions will be a test of which of these competing priorities Americans will actually support. In his first term, Trump did not push very hard. While he all but shut down refugee admissions from overseas, took steps to curb legal migration, and tightened the U.S. border with Mexico during the COVID-19 pandemic, his administration did little to remove migrants already present in the country. The total number of deportations during his first four years was 1.5 million—half as many as President Barack Obama’s first term and similar to the number in Obama’s second term and outgoing President Joe Biden’s four years.

Trump was more successful in reducing legal migration. Immigrant arrivals slowed significantly under Trump, though much of that came from the almost complete shutdown of U.S. borders and immigration processing during the pandemic year of 2020, the final year of his first term. What would a mass deportation look like? Unless Congress changes them, U.S. laws make a huge increase in removals unlikely.

Migrants targeted for deportation are permitted to appeal their removal to U.S. immigration courts, an arm of the Justice Department. The backlog in those courts is more than 3 million cases, a sixfold increase since 2016; wait times for hearings can stretch to two years or longer. U.S. detention capacity for all migrants—either recent arrivals or those awaiting removal—is roughly 40,000.

Miller has pushed for the government to create tent cities along the border to expand that capacity, but the costs would be high. The American Immigration Council has estimated that it would cost $88 billion annually to detain and deport 1 million migrants per year, which is nearly nine-tenths of the entire current DHS budget. And many countries are reluctant to take their own citizens back. Venezuela has at times refused entirely, and others, including Cuba and China, are considered “recalcitrant.”

Homan promised in a Nov. 8 interview with Fox News to start by focusing on “public security threats and national security threats,” which is pretty much what the Biden administration and others have done; more than 40 percent of those arrested and targeted for removal by ICE in 2023 had some sort of criminal conviction or pending charge.

Beyond that, things get harder. Homan has promised to revive “worksite enforcement” in which ICE targets workplaces such as slaughterhouses and farms that are suspected of employing large numbers of undocumented migrants. The history of such raids suggests that they will be difficult.

Only one large-scale raid—against chicken processing plants in Mississippi—was conducted during Trump’s first term. Some 700 migrants were arrested and some deported, but the employers got off with a slap on the wrist. The Mississippi plants continue to face large labor shortages and continue to hire unauthorized migrants.

Many of Trump’s wealthy donors rely on foreign workers, including unauthorized migrants, and are likely to push back against the resumption of workplace raids.

Reaching deep into American communities will be harder still. To start, it is challenging simply to find undocumented migrants; unlike some countries, U.S. residents are not required to carry documents that prove their right to be in the country. Many states, including California, Oregon, and Washington, as well as cities such as New York, Boston, and Philadelphia, also have “sanctuary” laws that prevent local law enforcement from cooperating with ICE agents, making arrests and detentions more difficult.

Homan has promised to ignore such obstacles in deploying ICE agents: “If sanctuary cities don’t want to help us, then get out of the way, because we’re coming,” he said on Fox & Friends. Miller has also talked about getting friendly red states to call up state-level National Guard forces and sending them to assist ICE agents in blue states. This could set up unprecedented clashes across state borders.

The public reaction is hard to predict. Most immigration enforcement takes place near the border or quietly, when unauthorized migrants are detained on criminal charges and turned over to ICE. Sending agents into neighborhoods to arrest individual migrants will be far more explosive; nearly 14 million U.S. citizens and lawful permanent residents live in households where are least one member is unauthorized. Nearly 1 in 3 Latino families—a group that voted  more strongly for Trump in this election than in the previous two—is faced with the threat of removal or family separation in the event of a mass deportation.

All of this assumes, of course, that the new administration chooses to be constrained by existing laws and norms. But other options may exist. With Republican control of both the House and the Senate, Trump may be able to push through laws not only to boost funding for removal operations, but also to weaken legal protections for unauthorized migrants.

His officials are likely to expand the use of expedited removal—a provision that permits removal without a court hearing for recent arrivals. Previous administrations have used the power almost exclusively to remove unauthorized border crossers shortly after their arrival, but Trump tried late in his first term to extend that power to migrants who had lived anywhere in the country for less than two years. The increasingly pro-Trump courts may help such an effort pass muster.

This week, Trump suggested he may go farther still and declare a national emergency—using broad powers granted by Congress to the president—in order to deploy the U.S. military to expedite deportations.

Even if his deportation plans fall short, a large-scale attempt of the sort being promised will mark a revolution in the U.S. approach to migration. Until now, conservative critics of immigration, including Trump himself during his first term, have focused largely on securing borders and reducing new arrivals. Right-wing parties in Europe, too, have focused on tightening borders.

But if the United States starts mass removal, populist governments in other parts of the world will likely be emboldened to take more draconian measures as well. Despite the political controversies, the United States has long been something of a model for embracing immigration—more than one-fifth of all the world’s migrants reside in the United States. Mass deportation will send a far uglier message.

If the effort proves too difficult, and Trump buckles to the inevitable backlash, the political debate in the United States may revert to where it has been for decades: how to provide a reasonable level of security at the border while continuing to admit new immigrants who benefit the economy—and looking the other way at the millions of unauthorized migrants who have settled and built lives in the country.

For decades now, that has been a messy and uncomfortable compromise. But the alternative promises to be much worse.

[historyfordummies]

The Vietnam War

French colonisation of parts of Southeast Asia (French Indochina)

While there were previously conflicts between different areas of Vietnam, the start of the Vietnam War (or, as the Vietnamese call it, the American War) lies in the French colonisation of Vietnam and other parts of Southeast Asia (such as Laos and Cambodia).

2. World War One and the Paris Peace Talks

It was during this period that much of the colonised countries (not just in East and Southeast Asia, but globally) decided to request international assistance in freeing them from their imperialist rulers, partly motivated by the Paris Peace Talks, where U.S. president Woodrow Wilson stated that all nations have the right to self determination. This gave hope to leaders of independence movements all over the world, so Kim Kyu-sik and, importantly, Hồ Chí Minh, who requested U.S. support for Vietnamese independence. This, however, was ignored by Wilson, and it became obvious to leaders of independence movements across the world that the right to self determination was a right given to "white" nations only. This did its part in radicalising some of these movements, who now knew that they could not depend on Western assistance in their struggle for national self determination and independence.

3. World War Two and the First Indochina War (The French War)

During World War Two, Vietnam, as much of East and Southeast Asia, had been colonised by Japan. For countries such as Korea, this meant their first experience with colonisation, but for Vietnam, it was exchanging one colonial ruler for another, with little substantial difference for most Vietnamese.

Significant, though, was the end of the war and Japanese surrender, leading (most) Japanese troops to be expelled from Vietnam through the August Revolution. For a short period, an independent Vietnam seemed possible; the Việt Minh (Việt Nam Độc lập Đồng minh Hội; League for Independence of Vietnam) were made the government of the now independent Vietnam, under the leadership of Hồ Chí Minh (who had disassociated from his communist ties to fight for a unified Vietnam), and with (now former) emperor Bảo Đại as "supreme advisor" to the Việt Minh government.

Part of the success of the Việt Minh was owed to their massive popular relief efforts during the Vietnamese famine, which, much like the Irish famine in Great Britain, had much to do with French and Japanese colonial adminstration forwarding Vietnamese food to their own countries while the Vietnamese were starving.

This independence, however, was not due to last. With the Japanese surrender, the French anted "their" colony back, but met fierce Vietnamese resistance. The Vietnamese, naturally, did not want to be re-colonised by the French now that they had regained independence, however briefly.

The First Indochina War (in Vietnamese known as the French War) was what followed, with French troops and the Vietnamese Imperial Army fighting Vietnamese independence fighters under the Việt Minh. The French, however, were devastated by World War Two and unable to keep a colonial war going for very long; they simply did not have the means. This is where the United States comes into the picture.

4. The French War becomes the American War (Second Indochina War)

After it became clear that the French could not keep up the war, the Geneva Accords of 1954 temporarily split the country along the 17th parallel, promising elections in 1956 (much as had been the case in Korea, and with similar success). This resulted in a communist North and a South led by the pro-American president Ngô Đình Diệm.

The United States, much in contradiction of their declaration that every nation has the right to self determination, had supported the French, who were not able to continue their war economically, since they had to focus on rebuilding France. For much of the First Indochina War, the United States stood for majority of the costs, as much as 70%. They also provided troops, equipment, and, eventually, they took over the war, partly motivated by the Domino Theory, which hypothesised that if one country falls to communism, its neighbours will soon follow. After the defeat on the Korean peninsula, which established a communist North Korea, and after the "Loss of China", they did not want yet another communist country in Eastern Asia. So they fought.

Worth noting is, though, that they did not fight the North much. Instead, they focused on finding "Communist collaborators" in the South, using this as an excuse to spray large parts of the South with Agent Orange, and to kill numerous civilians, oftentimes after torturing (or, in the case of women and girls, raping) them. Body counts became a competition, and any Vietnamese could be labelled a Communist collaborator, though the Americans did not always even bother claiming that. Entire villages were slaughtered, and racism among the American troops ran rampant, causing them to treat the Vietnamese as less than human. Song My/My Lai is perhaps the most well known massacre of a Southern Vietnamese town, but by far not the only one. This "search for communist collaborators" devastated the South, and is the reason why most Vietnamese refugees are originally from Southern Vietnam, contrary to what one would expect when knowing that it was North Vietnam who was the "communist enemy", and South Vietnam was supposed to be the United States' ally.

The U.S. were not able to successfully fight the North Vietnamese troops, and as the war dragged on, it became obvious that the United States would not be able to win. So, instead, they tried to find a way to retreat without being humiliated.

5. "Vietnamisation" of the War

This, along with a constantly worsening public opinion, led to the "Vietnamisation" of the war, meaning that the United States would remove its troops and leave the South Vietnamese to fend for themselves. What followed rather soon was the Fall of Saigon, the capital of South Vietnam, which was captured by Northern troops. Thus, Vietnam was united under the North Vietnamese, with Lê Duẩn (General Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Vietnam since 1960) as fe facto head of state.

6. Other Aspects Worth Noting

The Vietnam War was very useful for South Korean dictator Park Chung Hee, who offered the United States South Korean military support in exchange for economic support for the South Korean economy. Additionally, he used it as leverage to keep the U.S. "tame" regarding some of his policies that the U.S. government would not otherwise have accepted as easily as they did within this context.

South Korean troops were known as some of the most brutal ones towards the South Vietnamese civilians.

Additionally, calling it the "Vietnam War" is misleading, since the Americans also bombed parts of Laos and Cambodia, despite not formally being at war with them. The North Vietnamese fighters got much of their supplies through mountain paths in these countries, which, to the United States, meant they were free game. This, however, is not usually mentioned in discussions of the war, nor is the Third Indochina War, in which Vietnamese troops invaded neighbouring Laos and Cambodia, and which forced China to intervene, making use of the domino theory themselves, claiming Vietnam had to be stopped from throwing its neighbours into chaos.

Sources:

Lecture materials (will not disclose the names of my lecturers/my university for privacy reasons)

Brocheux, Pierre: Ho Chi Minh. A Biography

Hägerdal, Hans: Vietnams historia

Immerwahr, Daniel: How to Hide an Empire. A Short History of the Greater United States

Kim, Byung-Kook & Ezra F. Vogel: The Park Chung Hee Era. The Transformation of South Korea

Smedberg, Marco: Vietnamkrigen 1880-1980

Turse, Nick: Kill Anything That Moves. The Real American War in Vietnam

Young, Marilyn B., John J. Fitzgerald & A. Tom Grunfeld: The Vietnam War. A History in Documents

See also: Snow in Vietnam (Amy M. Le), All They Carried (Tim O'Brien), The War Prayer (Mark Twain) for fictionalised narratives.

[eretzyisrael]

by Dennis Prager

The American Founders’ attitude toward the Jews is summed up in these words of John Adams, second president of the United States:

I will insist the Hebrews have [contributed] more to civilize men than any other nation. If I was an atheist and believed in blind eternal fate, I should still believe that fate had ordained the Jews to be the most essential instrument for civilizing the nations. … The Romans and their empire were but a bubble in comparison to the Jews. They have given religion to three-quarters of the globe and have influenced the affairs of mankind more, and more happily, than any other nation, ancient or modern.

As Israel once made the West, now it is saving the West. This was eloquently stated a few weeks ago by Wall Street Journal columnist Gerard Baker in a column titled, “Israel Defends Itself—and May Save Western Civilization”:

How will we ever repay the debt we owe Israel? What the Jewish state has done in the past year—for its own defense, but in the process and not coincidentally for the security of all of us—will rank among the most important contributions to the defense of Western civilization in the past three-quarters of a century. Israel has in 12 months done nothing less than redraw the balance of global security, not just in the region, but in the wider world. It has eliminated thousands of the terrorists whose commitment to a savage theocratic ideology has claimed so many lives across the region and the world for decades. Above all, it has provided an unexpected but crucial reminder to our enemies that there are at least some willing and able to pursue and defeat them, whatever the risk to our own lives and resources. The only appropriate responses to Israel’s gallantry, fortitude and skill from us—its nominal allies, especially in the U.S.—are ‘thank you’ and ‘how can we help?’ Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few, Winston Churchill said of the men of the Royal Air Force after they had repelled Hitler’s Luftwaffe during the Battle of Britain. We should echo those words today as we watch in awe what a country smaller in area than New Jersey, with a population less than North Carolina’s and an economy smaller than that of Washington state, has done for all of us.

[rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world]

“Making Jewish people the face of the US-Israel war machine is dangerous. The far right is rising all around the world, and with it, a real and violent threat against Jewish people, but rather than talking about or working together to defeat fascism and injustice everywhere, western states are mis-defining antisemitism to justify ongoing genocide.” — Stefanie Fox

JVP’s Executive Director, Stefanie Fox, spoke to the @unitednations this week where she conveyed the urgent need to withstand the U.S. campaign of repression aimed at silencing, criminalizing, and crushing the movement for Palestinian freedom.

Her address comes at a moment in which militarized police target and brutalize hundreds of anti-Zionist Jews alongside their Palestinian classmates across student encampments. Encampments where Jewish students led shabbat services and passover seders, and countless young Jews have never felt more Jewish than while participating in the pro-Palestine multifaith, multiracial community committed to justice for all people.

Repressing the movement for Palestinian liberation is a perilous path that paves the way for authoritarian policies, undermines democratic rights, and closes the space for civil society worldwide.

In the words of Dalia Darazim of @sjp.columbia who also testified, “Our battle ultimately is not with university administrators. It is with the entire imperial core. The crackdown on college campuses is just one symptom of the colonial violence that will continue as long as the Zionist occupation over Palestine persists. We know our universities are just one front in this battle for liberation and they are a crucial reminder that none of us are truly free until Palestine is free.”

Watch the full panel at the link in our bio or at https://www.jadaliyya.com/Details/46089

[rotzaprachim]

let’s talk genocide denial!!! I’ve been seeing a Lot of it and it’s very infuriating on all fronts, especially when we are facing situations with multiple genocides at play! For ref, I am not indigenous to turtle island, I am a Tagalog Jew! 1) people refusing to recognize the nakba and the state of Israel’s long-form treatment of Palestine as a form of genocide because “there are more of them now!!!” Genocide is not solely a matter of “numbers” of people alive but also the purposeful destruction of peoples and cultures, as has been enacted against Palestine. 2) this is a complex one but…. Importation of discourses of originalism and indigeneity to middle eastern and Eastern European cultural contexts where they don’t belong. While pretty straightforward on turtle island, the constant flow of people into and out of these regions has meant many groups of people have lived in the same places for hundreds or thousands of years. The claim of “certain” groups of people as being invaders or recent “imports” has been a central aspect of the justification of deportation and genocide across EE and SWANA regions. This includes Jews across Eastern Europe (middle eastern invaders!!!) Palestinians in Palestine (Arab or greek invaders!!!) Armenians everywhere (Christian invaders!!!!) Greeks in Turkey and Egypt, Bosnians in Bosnia-Herzegovina (Turkish invaders!!!) and so forth. Don’t adopt these discourses. 3) point blank labeling of antisemitism as something *fake* the Jews control. *antisemitism*

4) refusal to reckon with the extent of the Shoah and intergenerational traumas and realities of the Shoah (like other genocides.) a genocide affects not only the survivors but their descendants. I’m seeing a lot of people acting like Zionism is a particularly evil ideology the Jews cooked up and then brainwashed other Jews into believing and then everyone chose to move to Israel instead of continue living in their nice cosy Yiddish bund homeland, and that removes the goysiche agency from the story. The Shoah outright obliterated the Jewish homelands and cultural areas Jews had been living in across Europe, and any genuine antizionism or diasporism NEEDS TO LOOK that history right in the face rather than sweeping it under the rug. It NEEDS to reckon with why so many Jews came to believe that they could no longer live outside of their own state because the goyishe world told them with blood that they could no longer live outside of their own state. It also needs to deal with the fact mass numbers of Jews were pretty unceremoniously dumped from DP camps to the state of Israel after the war was over. Genocides affect the survivors for generations, including where they live. 4) refusal to recognize antisemitism in the Arab world or the contexts which forced middle eastern Jews from their homelands and into the state of Israel. Oh it must be /their fault./ see above, no effective antizionism without reckoning with these histories.

5) tankies. There’s just been a mass platforming of tankies recently and many of them engage in genocide apologism or outright denial, especially of the holodomor. Others whitewash the policies of forced cultural assimilation or land dislocation undertaken by the USSR as “necessary anti-conservative revolutionary action against reactionaries.” I don’t care what their *good stances* are, we should not platform outright genocide deniers even if they can *justify* mass killings by means of political ideologies. These ideas include the idea that any discussion of governmental violence or genocide by a non U.S.-aligned state is a western psyop invented by the U.S., and they include not only historic genocides (although as discussed, genocides are not solely “historic” in the sense they continue to affect survivors and their children for generations) but current and ongoing violence against Uighur, Kurdish, Ukrainian, and Tibetan people.

5) anti indigenous racism in turtle island. Also a complex one as I don’t want to engage in whataboutism, but a lotttt of the jokes about *just send the Israelis to New Jersey/New York/Florida* ignore the fact that New Jersey, New York, and Florida are also settler colonies and indigenous homelands. A lot of the discussion of IL by white settlers has revealed the extent that they do not view themselves as white settlers, nor do they really understand native peoples and First Nations continue to exist. “I’d let Native American Hamas kill me and it would be awesome!!!!” Well there is no Native American Hamas, but there might be a tribe in your area that needs money for new kindergarten chairs or support for landback, so you shouldn’t treat them as a vaguely existent hypothetical.

6) reimposition of the colonial notion of one land for one ethnic group with one language and only one language that can be applied to place names. Even if this is in a *decolonial* sense for one area it’s still very dangerous logic to play with, especially with the ethnic diversity of much of the world. The idea of inherent primacy of one ethnic group over another in the post colonial era has been at the root of many mass killings.

7) labeling a language as “evil” or “untrustworthy”

8) I shouldn’t have to tell you why the idea that “there are no civilians” is very bad in literally any case

[buzzdixonwriter]

No More Old White Men For President

I think we’ve seen the last of old white men as political leaders for this century. 

Not saying there won’t be old political leaders.

Not saying there won’t be white political leaders.

Not saying there won’t be male political leaders.

Just saying we’re not going to see any combinations of all three (maybe two of three provided the politician is really good at their job).

Good.

As a distinct subset, old white men have never been the majority in this country.  They wielded their unearned status over women and minorities and younger people to leverage power and control for hundreds of years.

But that was then, this is now.  A hundred  years ago the country was almost ninety percent white; in less than twenty-five years current demographic projections will reduce that to just under fifty percent, making whites the largest minority in a country made up of minorities, but a minority nonetheless.

Good.

Right now, whites are no longer effectively a majority in the U.S.  Including people of mixed ancestry who identify as white, only seventy-one percent of the country is white.

When persons of mixed ancestry are taken out of the mix, that number today drops to less than sixty-two percent.

The cause of this precipitous drop in the white population? 

The whites’ own pernicious “one drop rule” that goes all the way back to the earliest colonial era.

As demonstrated by the fabled “lost colony” of Roanoke, white English colonists in the new world felt no particular attachment to their home culture across the Atlantic and when treated shabbily by their absentee masters back in merrie olde England were perfectly capable of defecting to one of the local Native American tribes.

Realizing they couldn’t force indentured servants to work like slaves, the landed gentry began importing actual slaves from Africa.  Unlike the indentured servants who colonized America, the enslaved Africans faced perpetual chattel slavery with their children born into slavery as well.

Small wonder many of them sought escape to the west where they could be adopted and accepted by local tribes.

Add to this various frontiersmen willing to intermarry with Native Americans -- not to mention the countless number of half-white children born into slavery after white slaveowners raped their mothers -- and whites in American -- particularly that entitled white gentry class -- sought to exclude as many people as possible from the body politic by claiming one drop of non-white blood meant that person by legal definition was non-white.

Don’t listen to the malignant MAGA nonsense; identity politics were created by white men for the protection and preservation of white men.

In the beginning, “white” applied only to those of English or Northern / Western European descent. 

Jewish people, no matter where they came from, weren’t accepted as “really” white.  The Irish and Italians were viewed as subhuman thugs.  A select few French, German, Scandinavian, and some upper crust Spaniards and Slavs were allowed in the white man’s world, but most Eastern Europeans, Middle Easterners, and all Asians were excluded.

…that is, until the number of white people in America began declining, then suddenly previous barriers held against the Irish, Italians, and Eastern Europeans dropped in order to reinforce white ranks.

But to this day Latin Americans, African-Americans, Middle Easterners, and Asians are kept outside the old white men’s circle of power.

Oh, a few token representatives are allowed in:  Fetching females who parrot what the old men want to hear, sociopathic opportunists of all kinds willing to make a buck by selling out others like them, etc.

But by excluding all those tainted by so much as “one drop” of Native American, African-American, Middle Eastern or Asian heritage, selfish old power hungry white men hoped to concentrate all the benefits of citizenship on themselves alone.

Well, that didn’t last long.  First African-Americans were freed, then women got to vote, then laws forbidding Asians from being American citizens were struck down, and finally laws against miscegenation were abolished.

The latter meant a lot of people now claimed membership in two subsets of American, the traditional pure white stain [sic!] and something else.

This results in bizarrely arcane rules and regulations, as well as increasingly paradoxical cultural standing.  A single “full blooded” Native American great-great-grandparent enables one to claim membership in that tribe, a tall kid without a noticeable epicanthic fold can be accepted as white even if one parent is fully Asian.

On the one hand, the true American ideal is liberty and justice for all with every person having a chance to participate in society to the best of their abilities. 

On the other, there’s definitely a cultural subset that wants to make sure old white men (and the various subsets of that subset, viz. white women, young white men, etc.) are more equal than others.

But their day is drawing to a close.

Already there are enough old white men who do believe in liberty and justice for all and who vote for young and female and minority candidates to ensure this country’s coalition of minorities get a say in how things are done.

Donald Trump and MAGA represent that last feverish attempt to hold onto power before old white men no longer find the country deferring to them simply because they’re old white men.

Oh, there will be old white men involved in politics in years to come.

They will start as young white men who know how to deal and make alliances with all the other subsets in the country.  A few will be successful enough at their careers to survive long enough to become old white men…

…but they’ll never wield the same dominant clout old white men used to have.

I trust we will not have another old white male president for the rest of this century.  That particular combo is a toxic turd that needs to learn to play will with others.  We will have old people male and female, of all sorts of different backgrounds serve as president, and we’ll probably have a few younger-to-middle aged white men as well, candidates who grew up in the new realpolitik and understand their age and skin tone and assigned genitalia give them no more special consideration than anyone else.

  © Buzz Dixon

[rjzimmerman]

Electricity That Costs Nothing—or Even Less? It’s Happening More and More. (Wall Street Journal)

Excerpt from this Wall Street Journal story:

Most people pay a fixed price for each kilowatt-hour of electricity they consume throughout the day. The price is set by their power company and only changes at infrequent intervals—once a week, a month or even only once a year.

Van Diesen, a software salesman, recently signed up to receive electricity from two providers that charge him the hourly price on the Dutch wholesale power market, rather than a fixed price that resets monthly or annually. When the price of electricity falls low enough, smart meters in his house begin charging his two electric cars.  

Wholesale prices swing wildly each hour of the day, and even more so as a larger share of electricity flows from wind and solar installations. Because the generation costs of wind or solar farms are negligible, market prices will be near zero when there is enough renewable power to cover most of a region’s electricity demand. 

Electricity market dynamics get weirder when renewable-energy producers don’t have an incentive to stop feeding power into the grid, usually because of government subsidies. Then grids can be flooded with excess power, pushing prices into negative territory.

Van Diesen said he’s made 30 euros, equivalent to around $34, over the past five months charging his car, enough to cover the service fee from his power supplier, a Norwegian company called Tibber.

“I’m charging the car for free,” said van Diesen, who is part of a group of clean-energy enthusiasts in the Netherlands who call themselves green nerds. “To me it’s also like a hobby and a game—how far can I go?”

Doing laundry in the evening? The electricity could be free a few hours later when demand dies down and the wind picks up. Likewise, in regions with lots of solar power, charging an electric vehicle in the morning is usually far more expensive than powering up under the midday sun—or whenever the price is right.

In the U.S., most states don’t currently allow such real-time pricing, but many think that will change. Already, in some of the world’s biggest economies from Western Europe to California, the occurrence of zero and negative wholesale power prices is growing fast.

Wholesale prices across continental Europe have fallen to zero or below in 6% of all hours this year, up sharply from 2.2% in 2023 and just 0.3% in 2022, according to data collected by Entso-E, the group of European transmission system operators. In markets with lots of renewable capacity, this year’s figure was higher: 8% in the Netherlands, 11% in Finland and 12% in Spain. Analysts expect those numbers will grow as more solar panels and wind turbines are installed.

The changes sweeping Europe’s electricity markets, which were accelerated by the energy crisis brought on by the war in Ukraine, show what could happen in the U.S. in a few years when renewable capacity reaches a similar scale. In 2023, 44% of EU electricity was generated by renewables, compared with 21% in the U.S.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 1

Author's Note: You must have read the "Black Boys Bloom Thorns First" series before trying to dip into this new book!

"I will be one of the greatest That is a vow, yeah, that is a promise Always wanted to be famous Just being real, yeah, just being honest

My haters gon' always be nameless Give them no cloud, I give them no power

Creators built different, they ancient Sooner than later, all will be ours…"

Iniko—"The King's Affirmation"

King N'Jadaka Udaku of the Panther Tribe from the kingdom of Wakanda sat at the head table for the Congressional Black Caucus's newly minted Pan-African symposium/dinner. Housed inside of the National Museum of African American History and Culture, the event brought together Black leaders from all over the world that wanted to shape their future with the influence of Black American politicians after the great disaster of the Infinity War.

The king sipped from a glass of lemon water with his young Executive Assistant Mpilo by his side, very much aware of the eyes dragging across his intimidating figure in the midst of seventy-five world politicians of African descent with their various entourages. Women and men allowed to participate in the momentous occasion chanced glancing his way to assess what kind of man he was on this rare occasion that N'Jadaka visited Washington, D.C.

He grew accustomed to the staring. King N'Jadaka became the legend made flesh among them, the rare Black man of real power surrounded by other Black leaders that tried to balance governing in the face of American neo-imperialism. The people in that room would've given up their firstborn child just to be in his presence, especially the representatives from Sudan and Ethiopia. Thanos's ridiculous plan to snap problems away only created more dire ones on earth and Africa suffered as a result. The rise of new warloads and the loss of faith in democracy sprouted far and wide. Slavery, coups, and genocide had ramped up. Troubled nations in the motherland looked to Wakanda and not the U.S. for leadership, and that made N'Jadaka's stay in his former homeland dangerous. The C.I.A. had a bench warrant of death on his head. Western powers wanted the king of Wakanda eliminated.

The Golden Jaguar sighed and pressed his hands on his thighs and flexed his fingers to offset the ribbons of tension coursing through him. Despite it being an all Black affair, there were enemy ops in the conference hall among them. The Dora Milaje and his Onyx Squad remained visible and dispersed throughout the perimeter, their smart-looking uniforms marking them as superior protection among the American security hired to keep unwelcome outsiders from trying to sneak an audience with the Wakandan king.

This attempt at a heavily-publicized gathering of Black international elites became a way for powerless Black politicians in the U.S. to rival and possibly supplant N'Jadaka's influential UDC creation that made waves in under a year. No matter what power-to-the-people slogans were used to get them in office, Black American politicians were still…politicians. No different than their white counterparts that only worried about getting re-elected and stuffing their pockets with money, connections, and a fat board member assignment or consultation position on some corporations dime after retirement. No matter the pithy declarations about supporting the Black community he heard all evening, there were wolves in the room seeking access to more power. The white American power structure lit a fire under the CBC's ass to put together something that would convince diaspora Africans to join with them instead of the Wakandans. N'Jadaka knew what it was and decided to participate anyway. Just to let the CBC know he was watching them closely and feigning diplomacy. America was a weak and decaying order. The bored king found solace knowing he would be its demise.

N'Jadaka tapped his hand on the fancy table cloth. Mpilo took note of his mood and quickly checked his comm tab for the expected time of arrival for Yani and the children. The trip abroad had lasted over two weeks, most of it spent at the United Nations in Geneva, and meetings in New York, London, and South Africa. N'Jadaka cancelled a trip to Saudi Arabia when one of the crown princes of an oil billionaire insulted him on a viral vid. He made an example of them by snubbing a much-anticipated visit there. Any form of anti-Blackness anywhere was swiftly aired out. Mexico, Argentina, Spain, France, Italy, and the Dominican Republic were already smarting from his public call-out of their treatment of Black people due to an increase of racialized violence targeting poor Black citizens in their nations. With Yani's urging and Ramonda's powerful voice as an ambassador, there was a rallying call against global femcide in the wake of the disappearance of so many people.

The U.S. didn't let the great loss of citizens stop their continuing encroachment of resources and they took advantage of pumping predatory capitalism along. What could've been a moment of self-reflection, a shift in priorities, and a new way of being for the country as a whole was simply an opportunity to prey on weaker nations even harder. Their only hindrance in achieving more power was the rise of Wakanda under N'Jadaka's leadership. He instilled fear in every nation that wanted life to go on the same way, and he also gave hope to those parts that saw a chance at progressive changes aligning with Wakanda. The western powers still gasped at his U.N. speech criticizing colonial apartheid in Palestine and Gaza. The gasp turned into full-fledged choking when he charged genocide co-signed and funded by the Americans. Once he pontificated on the historical similarities between Gaza, South Africa, and the Black American segregation of his own people, his War Dogs got wind of Mossad operations trying to penetrate Wakandan intelligence through the C.I.A.

Back home, the continent was split.

African nations that had long been ignored and left to suffer on their own benefitted from supporting Wakanda. N'Jadaka flooded their lands with tech support, agricultural advances, doctors, and a quick rebuilding of infrastructures with his Wakandan Humanitarian Corps that embarrassed the U.S.. At N'Jadaka's urging, Azania and Caanan had stopped selling uranium, colbalt, and platinum to anyone outside of Africa in exchange for advanced agricultural expansion. Mining had ruined and polluted their lands with run-off depleting usable soil and water. Rapid climate change didn't help them either and the neighboring nations were on the verge of famine. Wakanda helped clean their water, soil, and air for free, allowing farmers to produce a bumper crop that saved millions from starvation and prevented them from becoming refugees in other nations. Those who had been malnourished received the best medical treatment, and once snatched from the brink of disaster, Azania and Caanan were staunch allies for good.

Niganda and Mohannda were a different story, currying favor from the CBC leaders and complaining to the U.S. president that Wakanda was a global threat to sovereignty. The other African nations galvanized by the freely given help, threw all of their allegiance to the Wakandans, thus leading other unaligned African nations to fear him creating a United States of Wakanda to rule them all.

It wasn't a bad idea.

He never acknowledged those types of concerns and just let the rumors grow to keep his enemies on their toes. His own father N'Jobu had flirted with visions of a united continent under Wakandan rule in his journals. Currently, N'Jadaka scrambled to replace War Dogs lost to the blip in order to keep his finger on the pulse of other nations.

"Princess Yani will arrive within the next two hours. They have crossed onto the Atlantic," Mpilo said.

N'Jadaka nodded. He gave Mpilo a full-time job as his personal assistant since the loss of his father in the snap. The king had no idea the young man suffered that loss until months after the memorial honoring the lost ones. Mpilo continued to do his work professionally until Yani brought the news to the king's attention. She recognized Mpilo's family name from one of the palace attendants sending personal condolences to their staff on her behalf. When N'Jadaka questioned him, Mpilo broke down in tears in the king's office. His father and two oldest brothers had vanished leaving behind his mother and baby sister. Barely an adult, Mpilo now had the responsibility of looking out for his immediate family. N'Jadaka terminated his fellowship and gave him a permanent job title as his executive assistant.

The king let out a sigh of relief.

He needed to be with his family again. Normally Yani would be with him, but she was on her own global tour promoting her book, "The Wakandan Way of Birth". Their children traveled with her and he caught interview segments of her in three countries. The world was enamored with the exotic princess. It was her first appearance outside of Wakanda representing the nation. N'Jadaka grinned thinking about the reaction of the Caribbean. The entire region went nuts finding out officially that an island girl had snagged the most powerful man in the world.

She promoted the book in St. Thomas first, and he hated not being there with her. She traveled to Jamaica next to visit the land of her father and paid her respects to their relatives there. In the midst of the new global normal, Yani's book became a smashing success. All proceeds went to funding her midwifery scholarships to further the number of Black and Native midwives and doulas learning at the Wakandan birthing centers. The money allowed women to focus fulltime on their craft without monetary constraints. She planned to give more once she became queen because the palace allotted a salary for Queen Consorts that she planned to use for more income-based scholarships. Wherever there were Black and Indigenous women in need, Yani made sure they took priority over anyone else.

Everyone wanted their hands on the book. A Wakandan publishing company mass marketed the coffee-table sized manauscript, and they looked exquisite. The cover was created by a Birnin S'Yan artisan who made a vibranium-tinged dye that was threaded into a gorgeous royal purple and silver cloth overlay. The book had fifty full-page color photos that Yani spent months agonizing over from a total of 200. The cover photo itself deserved to hang in a museum. It showed a young woman holding her newborn daughter and they were both dressed in the vibrant colors of the River Tribe.

When the pre-release online sales skyrocketed, Yani made the decision to only provide non-online sales out of Wakanada through global Black bookstores. The international brick and mortar stores made bank with the flood of non-Black customers wanting their hands on something from Wakanda. Even people who weren't even interested in childbirth or culture clamored to snatch up a copy just to get a glimpse of what Wakanda looked like from the inside. The first print sold out in one week.

The talks finally ended and the affair moved into a spacious outdoor dining area where a small jazz trio played music in a corner. The balmy weather made it comfortable to be outside and he took in a deep inhale of D.C. air.

Okoye and Ayo kept the pre-dinner rush to talk to the king at a distance, giving N'Jadaka time to snag a moment of peace. After ten minutes he shook hands and greeted caucus leaders, trying not to look annoyed at their requests for selfies with him. He obliged to be polite and to give an air of camaraderie. Everyone wanted everyone else to think they had connections to him by how loud they talked or laughed with him. He knew the drill.

The hosts ushered his entourage to their dining seats near the front of another podium. No one pretended to be sly about sneaking candids of him with their smartphones.

"King N'Jadaka, your son is here to see you right away," Ayo whispered in his ear.

N'Jadaka looked around and spotted Riki walking out from the museum with his personal Dora, Quamba. All the diners stopped to watch the prince of Wakanda walk through with his hands behind his back and his eyes searching for his Baba. Some people tried to snap photos of Riki, but all of N'Jadaka's children wore necklaces that thwarted any cameras from getting clear pictures of them by jamming up electronics and flash photography cameras.

Riki looked too clean.

Yani braided his hair in the spiral style of his Wakandan ancestors, threaded with shells and beads that bounced around his shoulders. This week, Riki wore jade and black fingernail polish decorated with mini panther claws in bright gold which was the rage of young children in Birnin Zana who loved their local team that played a popular sport called ukudlala ngomlenze…leg play. It was a game that required balance, and intense leg flexibility as two teams battled each other on a low swinging wooden bridge that moved across a deep body of water. One member of each team took turns standing in the center of the swinging bridge as the other team members of the challenging team split up on either side to rock the opponent off their feet, without any of their own teammates falling over too. The narrow bridge swung higher and higher, pushing athletes to go against gravity, their exhausted limbs put to the test for long durations. N'Jadaka had promised Riki a trip to the national competition in the River Tribe territory once they returned home.

Riki's black royal sash rested snug across his chest with the family crest emblazoned on it. The boy was seven-years old and sprouting a bit of height. He was almost as tall as Sydette and would probably surpass her by the time he was eight. The freckles on his red-brown skin were more pronounced, covering his nose and cheeks. Riki's eyes lit up when he spotted N'Jadaka.

"Baba!"

The boy ran past chuckling adults who admired the tailored royal suit and polished shoes. N'Jadaka held his arms out and his son jumped onto his lap and kissed his cheek. The happy king wrapped his child up in love.

"I've missed your busy behind," N'Jadaka said. "Where's your Mama and the girls?"

"Changing clothes. I couldn't wait to see you," Riki said, squeezing his arms around N'Jadaka's neck.

"Good trip, Dumplin?"

"Yes. People went crazy for Mama and her book. I'm ready to go home though. I don't like this country…the people here are so fake. They only like you if you're rich or famous."

"Hungry?"

Riki nodded and scanned the tables for the evening's selection. He scrunched up his nose at the servers placing rolls and butter on the tables.

"Can we eat this food, Baba?" Riki asked.

"We have people watching the chef in the kitchen."

The Udaku children had been taught to reject outside food unless their parents permitted them to partake. N'Jadaka had become cautious with poisoning and normally had his own personal chef make all of their food, but he opted to watch the American cooks this time around instead of turning down a plate. The head chef for the evening was a famous Black American from New Orleans who read that N'Jadaka liked food from that region and wanted to create a menu to impress the powerful king.

"Sit next to me," N'Jadaka said, pulling out a chair for Riki.

Mpilo took a seat across from them at the circular table that seated twelve. Members of the CBC organizing committee greeted him then took their seats at other tables. The jazz music grew softer as guests took their seats all throughout the guarded space. A congresswoman from Philly took to the podium near N'Jadaka's area and announced the arrival of Yani and Ramonda. Eager applause broke out and N'Jadaka stood up from his seat. He helped Riki stand in his chair so he could see his mother and aunt enter.

N'Jadaka's Uncle Bakari escorted Yani and Ramonda together as Sydette and Joba walked in front of them wearing matching purple dresses with their hair twisted and pulled back with amethyst panther-shaped hair clips. Yani mesmerized the crowd in a shimmery emerald green dress that revealed all her rounded curves. She styled her hair with extensions in an upswept fancy roll that denoted her status as queen-to-be. Ramonda had the crowd transfixed with her tall purple isicholo and deep purple gown. Uncle Bakari appeared dapper in his black tux. N'Jadaka's grandfather Dante escorted Bakari's wife Shavonne and they all made their way toward the front where their Dora Milaje escorts brought them to the king's table.

Sydette and Joba dashed to him first and he picked up both girls and smothered their faces with kisses amidst their squeals of delight for being with him again. He put them down the moment Yani reached him and he couldn't hide from the world his love for her.

He wrapped eager arms around her tight and pressed his forehead against her brow. The tense energy in his body drained down into the floor and he exhaled a long breath. Yani rested her arms around his massive shoulders, her perfume drowning him in memories of their shared bed and the last time they had been alone without the world watching their every move.

"Baby, I missed you so much."

"I know. I couldn't wait to get here and hold you."

"You know these niggas is starin' so we better play it cool for Ramonda's sake."

Yani giggled and pulled away from him. He kissed her hand and turned to Ramonda, giving his auntie double kisses on both cheeks. He hugged his grandpop next and finally showed love to his American aunt and uncle who raised him after his parents died. They all took their seats at the dining table. Yani sat at his right, and Riki, Joba, and Sydette took over his left side.

As the first courses of salads, soups, and finger foods were brought out, announcements were made. The head chef was brought out and recognized. N'Jadaka allowed the nervous man to take a picture with him holding up a plate of sausage gumbo with rice. There was special recognition given to Yani, along with a surprise plaque presented to Ramonda for her role as an ambassador fostering goodwill between America and Wakanda.

N'Jadaka caught up with his aunt and uncle and the family chatter reminded him of being home except they were being watched like fish in a fishbowl. When dessert and coffee were brought out at the end of the meal, Ramonda switched seats with Riki and leaned in toward the king.

"President Mubiri would like to have a nightcap with you during the mixer inside the museum," Ramonda said.

"Why?"

Ramonda's sharp eyes observed the guests.

"He believes D.C. is neutral ground and he would like to discuss rumors of you inciting a coup in his nation."

"Sounds like C.I.A. bullshit."

"Even so, it wouldn't hurt to appear cordial. Get some photos taken that shows two rival nations talking together. Yani is your icebreaker. Madame Mubiri is here, too. A nice photo-op of beautiful African women mingling will make the CBC very happy."

N'Jadaka glanced at Yani's fingers. She had on her deadly finger armor. Hopefully she wouldn't threaten the man again.

He signaled for Quamba and several Onyx Squad security to take his children and grandfather back to their penthouse suite at the hotel they were lodged in for the weekend. He hugged and kissed the children promising to read a bedtime story to them later. People moved out of the way and stared at his heirs. All three children walked like royalty, heads held high, backs kept straight.

The after dinner mixer started inside the lobby of the museum where a giant abstract art installation above their heads looked like the unfurling of giant bronze ribbons. N'Jadka read the description of the sculpture that was supposed to represent the swinging motions like a band of angels coming down to carry Black Americans back home like the old spiritual "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot". The artist, Richard Hunt, used suspended cables to anchor the work, and the swooping arcs of the bronze bands reminded N'Jadaka of his mother's arms around his body when he was small.

Several servers traipsed the lobby carrying drinks and savory finger foods. A D.J. played contemporary R&B and the guests relaxed into full-blown partying mode. Bakari and Shavonne headed toward a display of Harriet Tubman's shawl further inside the museum and Mpilo escorted Ramonda to meet some caucus members who were dying to be seen with her.

N'Jadaka held out his arm and Yani rested her hand on it. She walked with a majestic stride that matched his and they mingled for a bit. Yani's charm was her greatest weapon and they spent a considerable amount of time discussing her book and tour. Her radiance overwhelmed a few people who couldn't stop admiring her even as they moved on to other guests. The allure of power was a true aphrodisiac, and Yani wielded it well. All of her Wakandan training and years of experience dealing with all sorts of people paid off in spades as she delighted American dignitaries. He couldn't stop staring at her himself. Her voice lit up his face and he smiled at everything she said. Yani's youth also surprised people. She would be entering her late twenties soon enough, but carried a greater maturity and self-awareness in the last year representing Wakanda internationally.

They worked the first three corners of the lobby before the mixer branched out to the rest of the museum, and they headed toward President Mubiri and Madame Mubiri who lingered near a replica of a slave quarter. The Mohanndan president stood with a glass of liquor in his hand entertaining cronies as his wife watched her husband's dour animated face with his uppercase gums spilling over his lowercase teeth. Her eyes sparked up when Yani approached holding out her hands toward the woman.

"Madame Habiba Mubiri, I finally get to see you again in a less formal setting," Yani enthused.

Yani ignored Mubiri and immediately pulled Habiba away from her husband, touching her hand in informal friendship.

"Mubiri," N'Jadaka said, offering his hand. Mubiri shook it.

"King N'Jadaka."

Yani reached for a glass of wine from a server that had been freshly poured from the bar. She presented it to N'Jadaka using the ancient submissive stance of queens in Wakanda, holding the glass up to him with her right hand, while her other hand cradled the elbow of the serving arm. N'Jadaka caught the lust in Mubiri's eyes again for his fiancé. He took the glass from Yani and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you, baby," he said.

"May I please borrow Madame Mubiri? I would love to introduce her to the head organizer," Yani asked Mubiri.

It was clear that Mubiri didn't want his wife to do anything, but Yani's seductive voice couldn't be denied. She played on the man's need to control women by asking his permission. Her earlier exaggerated submissive act toward N'Jadaka fed into the man's cultural ego. Yani upped the ante by touching his arm and squeezing it. Her touch ignited something in the president and he lifted his wife's arm and practically threw her at Yani.

"I'm sure you two have some important things to discuss without us present," she added.

"Enjoy yourselves," Mubiri said, his gaze plastered all over Yani's figure as the two women strolled further into the heart of the museum.

N'Jadka pretended to drink his wine while being focused on something else until Yani was gone.

"I thank you for the personal invitation to your wedding King N'Jadaka. I didn't think you would extend us any welcome to your country again."

"It's a time of celebration, not political intrigue. Yani wanted your wife there. They have been corresponding for a time getting to know each other. You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"And miss the nuptials of that delightful woman you parade around like a trophy? Never. We will attend and enjoy the splendor."

They both drank in silence.

"Did you like the tour of the museum earlier?" N'Jadaka asked.

"An intriguing history lesson. You must be proud of your heritage here."

"I am."

"Rebels at heart. I see why the Americans want to control you."

"I know you don't want to stand here and shoot the shit about my lineage. You want to know if I'm plotting to throw you out of office."

Mubiri choked on his drink as N'Jadaka stared at his face. The Mohanndan's cronies flicked their eyes away in embarrassment, not expecting the king to be that blunt.

"What would I gain from having you taken out, Mubiri? There would only be another leader who thinks the same as you, so nothing would change. Pinning your hopes on the Americans holding me in check has not paid off in a year. I offer nothing but hope and a chance at directing Africa's vast internal wealth and ancient wisdom back to where it belongs…on all of our people."

"Our people? You Wakandans are stand-offish and think only of yourselves. These little excursions into other African nations giving them little trinkets of your resources reeks of a ploy to rule over us all. At least your uncle acted like a benevolent father-figure in the west."

"My uncle was not the man you all think he was. I am telling you now, to your face Barasa Mubiri…I have no plans for a coup, an assassination, nor war with your country. Did you not read my fiancé's book? Wakandans value peaceful living, enhancements to prolong life, and self-actualization that benefits the whole and not just the individual. We kept to ourselves for centuries even when we had the means to colonize the world and bend it to our will. But we didn't."

"I still think that is an option in your arsenal, King N'Jadaka."

"I am from the school of 'don't start none, won't be none'. My goal is transformative liberation for whomever wants it."

"So-called liberators often transform into something sinister, if given the chance."

The king moved closer to the east African president, closing the small gap between them.

"I only plan to bring hell to those who mean us harm. Do you plan to cause problems for us with this U.S. administration?" N'Jadaka asked.

Mubiri shook his head and smiled.

"I want peace and prosperity for our people too."

"Good. You have heard directly from my mouth what I want. Let's spend the rest of the evening showing the world that Africans can co-exist on the continent without people confirming their biases about us being warlords and despots. We can be civil with our disagreements. Everything doesn't have to be bloodshed, or rumors of hostile take-overs."

N'Jadaka excused himself with Okoye by his side.

"You were very civil, kumkani," Okoye said.

"I promised Umama that I would control my hostile tendencies here."

"She would be very pleased. Princess Yani is speaking to a delegation from the Sudan. Ambassador Udaku is with the Press Secretary for the American President."

N'Jadaka peeked at his kimoyos. He wanted to leave as soon as possible without making it glaringly obvious that he was ready to dip. His declining of the White House meeting with the President didn't sit well among the ruling Republican party.

"Kumkani!"

Mpilo rushed to him breathing heavily.

"You must come immediately," Mpilo said.

N'Jadaka quickened his steps with Okoye at his side. Mpilo led them through a throng of people and Yani rushed forward, clasping his hand in hers.

"What is it?" he said.

He squeezed a protective hand around hers and she pulled him toward another room. His family stood with other guests admiring a wall display. Ramonda stood with Dante and his uncle Bakari had taken off his glasses. Shavonne held an arm over Bakari's shoulder and they made room for N'Jadaka to move in front of them. Yani linked her arm with his.

"We didn't know this was here," Yani said.

N'Jadaka looked at a series of life-sized color photos of his mother Califia leading a Berkley BSU meeting. Her young face looked on fire like her hair as she held up a fist, her brows knitted together, and her mouth open spitting fire. A second photo connected to the first in a collage-styled presentation showed her carrying N'Jadaka on her hip. He was four years old wearing intricate cornrows and they both looked directly at whoever took the picture for a public event in Oakland. A deep inhale filled his lungs. The third image brought the handsome beauty of his father N'Jobu to life. He wore the dark ceremonial royal robes of Wakanda looking noble and fly as fuck. A fourth photo made N'Jadaka blink trying to figure out where it came from. He sported an MIT sweatshirt and his grin looked so innocent long ago. It came back to him. Chocolate City. A school paper had done an article about him and his dorm mates The final photo was a formal publicity photo of himself as the king of Wakanda. The entire collage mural threaded his Black American roots to his Wakandan roots, forming a romanticized link of the diaspora back to the motherland.

He appreciated his family becoming a historical footnote in the museum. Dante wiped his eyes and Yani wrapped an arm around him, helping the older man to reconcile the pain they felt in not having Califia and N'Jobu there with them.

The museum director approached N'Jadaka with a timid smile, her pale brown eyes dazzled by how close she stood next to him and his entourage. She down casted her gaze quickly when he stared directly at her.

"We hope you like this new installation King N'Jadaka. Unfortunately, the artist has been ill, or else he would've been here," the director said.

"Very impressive," he said.

His eyes lingered on his mother's image holding him while Ramonda gazed at N'Jobu's image. He wondered what thoughts went through her mind. Was there regret? Any remains of sadness that he had chosen someone else over her?

"Every time I see your parents, I see our children," Yani said. "You look so much like Riki in this one."

Yani reached out and let her fingers hover under the chin of his childhood image. He wanted to go home. Back to Wakanda. He whispered in Ramonda's ear and she slid next to the director to heap praises on the installation. Clasping Yani's hand, he guided his relatives toward the nearest exit. The Dora snapped to attention flanking them while the Onyx squad scanned for any problems.

Five dark SUVs pulled up to the side of the museum with Kingsguard drivers. Their entire party was whisked away to a luxury hotel in the heart of the capital and they disembarked in an underground parking garage to avoid paparazzi.

N'Jadaka entered his suite with Yani, and their children tackled him onto the floor wearing their pajamas. Dante watched them from a couch for a few minutes before standing up.

"I'm heading to bed, JaJa. What time do you need me to be ready for Joba's grandma?" Dante asked.

"She's arriving with the rest of Disa's family in the half cruiser around noon. We'll pick up some family in St. Thomas and Jamaica too before we travel back to Wakanda. The wedding rehearsal happens on Wednesday instead of Thursday."

"Yani's still doing the Today show interview?"

"Yes," Yani said, pulling Sydette from on top of N'Jadaka's head, "It's the only place I'm promoting the book."

Dante looked surprised.

N'Jadka gave Yani a look to take the children to their shared junior suite. Dante watched the family leave and he moved closer to his grandson.

"What's going on?" Dante asked.

"I don't want Yani in this country any longer than she has to be. We have some credible threats here in the states, and we're doing some culling of problems."

"Culling? You mean killing right?"

N'Jadaka glanced over his shoulder. Yani's voice gently scolded the children from being so hyper and loud before bed.

"Grandpop, things are escalating. Neutralizing threats will become more common for me."

"I don't have any issues with that."

N'Jadaka nodded.

"I'm turning in. See ya in the morning."

"I'm sleeping in."

"That doesn't surprise me."

He squeezed his grandfather's shoulder and watched the older man shuffle off to the adjoining door that led to another private suite. A Dora on night duty greeted Dante and closed the suite door behind him.

N'Jadaka stepped into the bedroom with his children frolicking across two queen beds. Sydette bounced on hers and played with her kimoyo beads while Riki and Joba tried to sidestep Yani's attempts to get them under the covers. N'Jadaka clapped his hands and all three children stopped goofing around and centered their attention on him. Yani placed hands on her hips, her long extensions fallen over one shoulder.

"Hey, what's going on in here? Mama said it's time for bed. Stop playing around."

"You promised us a story," Joba said.

He sighed and tread softly to the younger children's bed and plopped down on it. Pulling Joba onto his lap, he nuzzled his chin on top of her head. She touched his cheek.

"Are you too tired Baba? We can wait for another time," Joba said.

Her soft voice and soft hands brought forth all the mental exhaustion of the day.

"Thank you, Sunshine," he said.

He kissed Joba's cheek and she scrambled under the covers next to her brother. Riki patted his hand and he stroked the boy's braids.

"Night, Baba," Sydette said.

His oldest climbed under thick blankets and blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it and place it lovingly on his cheek.

"Tomorrow you will go with Grandpop to have breakfast with Uncle Bakari and Aunt Shavonne, then Grandma Theresa will arrive and we'll all meet up for lunch," Yani said.

"When are we leaving this place?" Riki asked.

"Soon," N'Jadaka said. "Get some sleep."

All the children looked relieved. He slipped his hand over Yani's and pulled her out of the room, turning off the lights and closing the bedroom door. Yani threw her arms around his waist and they hugged each other, allowing their mutual warmth and affection to flow through one another. He had his family back.

N'Jadaka's sleep was interrupted not by a sound, but by the missing softness removed from his side. Opening his eyes, he spread his hand out feeling for Yani. A toilet flushed from the bathroom outside of the hotel bedroom and she padded in quietly, closing the door before re-joining him. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand he was surprised to see it was only three in the morning. His body felt like it had slept later than that. He spooned back around Yani's lush form and they threaded the fingers of their right hands together, tucking them under her breasts.

The TV they watched before nodding off played a twenty-four hour news channel. Broadcasts of his visit stayed on loop most of the night, but the current images flashing onscreen highlighted the weather and celebrity gossip.

"At the end of this week we will be married," he whispered into Yani's ear.

She giggled and pushed her rump against his crotch.

"Queen Yani and King N'Jadaka," he said. "Nervous?"

"A little. Our counseling sessions with Elder Efetebo gave me a lot to think about. Umama and Ramonda have helped me too. Feels like I'm a part of something bigger than anything I have ever known in Wakanda…and yet…"

N'Jadaka reached over and turned on a lamp. He turned her face toward him.

"What is it?"

Yani's eyes watered and she blinked quickly. Two small tears trekked a lonely trail down her round cheeks. He kissed them away and cuddled her in his body heat and strength. She continued speaking in a low voice.

"At times…I know many still see us as outsiders on the noble court. They don't come for mi like they used to in the beginning, but I see it in their eyes. I know they want you take a Wakandan concubine. As modern and visionary as our country is, they hold on to these old timey ways to discredit our reign. I can see if they don't want Sweet Pea to have claim to the throne, but Riki and Joba have the bloodline in them. That should be enough. They want you to have a legally sanctioned child with a second wife to make the new line more legitimate…more Wakandan than diaspora. Everyone is scared to say this to your face, so that is the only thing that keeps them in line."

"Zola and Ilana tell you this?"

"They tell me everything. They love us."

"I've been on the elders' asses about that shit."

"There's only so much they can do. They can't stop other people from talking what they feel to be true in their hearts. A segment of the population will always see us diluting the bloodline."

"I will have Zola and Ilana tell me who the gossipmongers are and I will cast them out on their asses."

Yani sighed and burrowed into his arms.

"That will only make them feel justified and maybe cause more trouble for me in the palace. I will deal with it in mi own way."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Right now I'm a weak piece on the chess board. But once that royal isicholo is on my head, I will have more power to play a different position. I won't need to run to you all the time complaining."

"You don't run to me."

She rubbed his bicep and kissed the skin there on his arm.

"I can stand on my own. I have to in order to survive the politics as queen. The more time I spend in the throne room with you, I see why you wanted me there so much."

"Does it overwhelm you?"

"Sometimes. The Council of Elders are so particular…so strict. Like I said, we have the most modern country and I can't get over how backwards they can be with a willful adherence to tradition without even considering the impact of our population being made up of so many young citizens. Nearly half of our citizens are under the age of twenty. Even before the Infinity War. These young people are hungry for change. They want to create new traditions. Look at Zola and Ilana, my staunchest supporters…their desire for new things spills over into every conversation we have together. So much goes on back home and yet, we both have to deal with the rest of the world's problems too. I tell myself I'm up to the challenge, that I can multitask and handle every little fire that breaks out in the Court of Nobles, but it can look daunting at times."

"We have each other. We have our family. There's nothing we can't get through together. I put us all in hell and we climbed back out… you and me. I plan on protecting you Yani, and providing you with anything you need for yourself or our children. The nation will know your power and influence for generations to come. I mean…look at your book tour. The world knows who you are…"

Yani's eyes drifted away from N'Jadaka's face. She reached for the tv remote on the nightstand and turned up the volume on a previously broadcasted segment. Onscreen a male news anchor out of D.C. spoke over a background image of N'Jadaka back in his Killmonger days. Mercenary fatigues covered his body and his short locs had barely curled over his forehead.

"They outed you," Yani said.

N'Jadaka listened to the anchor list his accomplishments at MIT and the Navy before cutting to alleged covert missions for various off-the-grid companies and ghost units. He sat up on the bed as a female political analyst sat in front of an image of the Pentagon. She shared a clip of N'Jadaka's speech to the U.N. and inferred that the Wakandan king's connection to the C.I.A. and mercenary past would prove to be a detriment to African nations seeking true democracy. The overall segment painted N'Jadaka in an unsavory light.

"…King N'Jadaka has stated publicly at the latest U.N. gathering in Geneva that he will continue to interfere with African nations that are in turmoil. Our government can't afford to have Wakanda becoming the world police if the U.N. can't rally around the support of ending genocide in the Congo or demanding that Rwanda and Uganda stop their pillaging of coltan in that region. His calling out of multinationals is dangerous to the progress America is making to help the DRC put an end to the loss of life there. We've sat on the sidelines long enough waiting to see what direction Wakanda will move in since the mysterious ousting of King T'Challa, and now that we know the full background of the rebel king…this by the way is what he is known as in Mohannda and Niganda. Those two nations also have large deposits of colbalt, coltan, and uranium, and their leaders have hinted King N'Jadaka may wage war to secure those resources just like he hoards vibranium from the rest of the world."

"Janice, are you suggesting that King N'Jadaka's background as a C.I.A. operative may provoke a World War Three scenario in the future? He is in our country right now, in this city exactly with other African leaders and Black politicians from around the world. You really believe he will bring us to the brink of another global disaster after we've gone through so much?"

"He is a threat to our national security and the security of other African countries who desire peace and free-trade without violence. It is our duty to protect those people, and to protect the leadership who want to sell resources that benefit all. We are all witnessing the emergence of a secretive superpower under the leadership of a man we trained in black ops and who has no allegiance to anyone. I find this disconcerting and frankly, Bill, I'm shocked at how casual the leadership in this country is taking this troubling revelation."

"Excluding his recent U.N. speech, King N'Jadaka has only spoken out publicly against the on-going genocidal war in the DRC. As far as we know, he hasn't done anything outright on the continent of Africa that should warrant the type of forceful caution you are suggesting. Why are you so adamant about this discourse in the capital?"

"Wakanda is an unknown factor in global conflicts to date. U.S. officials and the Pentagon would like to see it stay that way, but King N'Jadaka appears to be rattling his saber. His training and access to the most powerful weaponry on earth scares me. It should scare everyone, especially with his negative views toward the United States…the land of his birth."

"Genius…decorated solder…Navy SEAL…C.I.A. operative…mercenary…king…you've given us a lot to think about with your upcoming book about Wakanda's place in geopolitics."

"Here's something else to think about. King N'Jadaka —Erik Stevens when he was an American—used to have Tony Stark as a mentor."

"Iron Man?"

"Yes."

"Are you implicating the billionaire superhero in anything to do with King N'Jadaka's spectacular political trajectory?"

"I'm only pointing out how entrenched the Wakandan king is within bleeding edge technology in the military arms race and his close proximity to someone many found problematic years ago as an industrialist. Who knows if these two men are still in contact with one another? Tony Stark should be called to Washington to answer pertinent questions about his past with this king."

N'Jadaka flicked the off button for the tv. Yani placed it back on the nightstand.

"They've been sitting on this shit for a year. Been wondering when the C.I.A. would drop it in the court of public opinion. Of course that bitch pushes her upcoming book during the last leg of your international book tour. I bet all of your book sales that Everett Ross had a hand in being a ghostwriter for it."

"Will they connect me with your mercenary past? Klaue?"

"No. Klaue used aliases on St. Thomas."

"What if they ask you about how we met?"

N'Jadaka lifted a long braid from Yani's face and tucked it behind her ear.

"I was on vacation in paradise and met you…a beautiful island girl. We fell in love and that's all there is to it."

Yani kissed his lips gently and rolled back on her side. He curled around her and they snuggled for a bit. He whispered in her ear.

"I don't want you to worry about anything that woman said. They've been looking to smear me every chance they get. It doesn't take away from those who support and believe in us."

She nodded into his arm and he kissed her temple.

"These people can only speculate from afar. We'll always be ahead of them. The only thing I want you thinking about is how you'll look in that wedding dress when I see you walking down the aisle," he said.

"That woman on tv tried to make you look like a monster, but all of your achievements only made you look like a man they should praise."

"I came up out the mud and took my talents to the last place they expected. They're starting to see what Africa could become once I get these wars abolished. Africa has always been the center of the world. Once we get the rest of these colonial shackles off her feet, I'll make her flex."

"You sound like you want to be king of the motherland."

"Don't tempt me."

Yani glanced back at him.

"Would you do something like that?"

"No more talk about the world. The sun hasn't come up yet and the children are still asleep."

N'Jadaka smashed his lips against hers and hurriedly slipped his tongue in her mouth to hush more inquiries. Her watery mouth tasted of 7-Up that she must've snuck a sip of from the suite's mini-fridge. His mind slowed down the way it always did when he kissed her. The heartbeat thumps in his chest matched the speed of hers. His long locs fanned out around her face and his Golden Jaguar necklace claws grazed her throat. Yani hummed into his mouth while sucking his tongue and he gasped at the initial thickening of his dick.

Pulling away, he stared down at her face, taking in the wide round eyes with curling lashes that fluttered whispery kisses against his neck as he kissed her forehead.

"I hate when we're apart," he said.

"I know."

"I love being with you like this when the children are in the next room asleep and safe…when no one from the outside bothers us. I can have you all to myself…oohhh…."

Yani slid her hands down his chest and squeezed the growing bulge in his pajama bottoms. He leaked a growing spot of precum and she toyed with it through the silk barrier. Her fingers became sticky and slick. He groaned and murmured her name into her hair, lifting his body higher so he could watch her hand do wonders teasing his erection.

Resting against her, he slid his fingers across her chest, fondling her breasts through her gauzy nightgown top. He pulled down on it until her titties spilled out, the plump nipples feeling like fat grapes on his fingertips. Pinching and plucking at them gently, he played with her breasts until he was ready for more. He climbed above her and pushed his groin into her mound, the friction swelling his dick until it poked out of the waist band on its own. He tugged his pajama pants down and gripped the thick erection in his eager hand. Yani lifted off her gown and he pushed the covers back so he could see the blessed globes jiggle.

"Oh shit," he groaned.

He pressed the tip of his dick against her pierced clit and a glistening long thread of precum shined up her labia. Swiping the bulbous head back and forth, he smeared the clear fluid on her fat vulva like icing on a chocolate cake. Yani shifted her big thighs and her ass cheeks jiggled. He smacked the underside hard and the recoil from that position forced a heavy moan from his lips. She had gained weight. He knew her trip back to St. Thomas and Jamaica meant eating good childhood food, and his woman didn't miss nary a meal. It was a gift to him no doubt.

Kicking off his pajama bottoms all the way, N'Jadaka played with Yani's breasts and labia until he was ready to penetrate the pretty pink opening flashing at him. Yani turned on her side and he parted her labia with one fluid motion of his dick sinking deep into her. She whimpered at the stretching of her walls after a long absence.

"I won't go crazy, baby…I promise. Too many people close around," he huffed.

Her pussy accommodated his girth with a tight wetness he was accustomed to having mold like a second skin around his dick. All he could think of was President Mubiri ogling Yani's body, especially her ass. It looked so round and ripe in her dress. He thrust forward knowing that man would never know pussy as sweet and juicy as the one sheathing his exceptional length. Only kings deserved the clenching his dick received at that moment.

"Yani….dassit…baby…damn…"

He grit his teeth trying to keep from shouting. Lowering his head, he dropped his face into the back of her neck and muffled his vocal straining. In and out…her perfect gushy cavern squelched and he dug in deeper, wanting to hear the sounds of his balls smacking her ass.

"Fuck…girl…"

She arched her back and he smothered his body over hers, preventing her from taking control and making him nut too quick. His dick needed to marinate in her pussy. He held Yani's back against his chest and reveled in the snug pussy cradling his dick. Keeping still, he played with her clit without thrusting, making her indulge in the pressure off all that meat stuffed inside of her. She huffed into her pillow and wiggled her hips, but he kept her anchored against him without mercy.

"You miss Daddy's dick?" he asked.

"Yes."

She whimpered pitiful sounds and clawed the sheets, eventually wilting in his arms. His dick could stay hard for hours, the gift from the heart-shaped herb's power flowing through his blood. He rested in her walls for an hour, teasing her clit and whispering nasty things in her ear. She started crying from the delicate teasing of his fingers all over her jewel-pierced vulva for such a long time without release.

"You betta not cum until I tell you…okay?"

"Okay…okay…I can't take much more…"

She bit into his arm and the heat from her mouth made him chuckle. Yani sat on the edge of her orgasm. Her legs shook from the anticipation. He needed the slow revving from her to keep himself in check.

They shared a sex routine they always adhered to on their reunions since their year of living together in the palace. It was a way to protect her pussy from his veracity. He was never allowed to cum in her pussy first when they joined. It took too much out of her to handle him regularly, so he learned to control his first release and saved it for her submission to him on her knees. The king's affirmation was always a facial for his beautiful queen.

If Yani orgasmed too quickly first, he would head straight to pound town, spurting too much semen that always released the beast in him. Uniting their bodies in slow methodical build ups kept him manageable for her. As he resumed stroking her walls after the long delay of cockwarming, he kept tabs on his arousal levels. When it was time to shift the pace before he wore her down, he pulled his dick from her precious pink sanctuary. Yani scrambled off the bed to submit to his need for dominance.

He moved his legs over the bed and spread his thighs wider, giving Yani room to position her knees on the floor properly in front of him. She offered him her tits, smacking them together playfully, and he fondled a nipple, fisting his dick, and watching her big beautiful brown eyes stare up at him.

"I love you like this…looking up at me…yeah baby…open that mouth…stick out your tongue…yeah, just like that. You gon' let me fuck that pussy some more after this?"

She nodded, looking innocent and expectant.

"Sexy ass…" he hissed.

He bent down and kissed her and she sucked on his lower lip, tugging on the skin with her teeth. Pulling back he shoved his dick down her throat, the girth hallowing out her cheeks on both sides as she sucked and worked her neck. She smacked her lips against his tip, releasing it with a loud pop and a sliding of her tongue across her top lip.

"Suck dick so good…suck it some more…right there…let me stretch that mouth. Stop playing with it Yani, take that shit the right way…"

He reached out and softly slapped the side of her mouth and she gave him a sly grin and licked the underside of his thick ridge. He grabbed her hair then, yanking on the braids to remind her of her place. She hit that itchy sensitive part of his dick with the friction of her scandalous tongue. The thinnest part of the dermis seemed to rest there in that spot that gave her tongue-tip the secret combination to start making his dick leak with clear fluid again. His erection was like a rigid pole vault in her mouth and he was so ready to dismount with a fat nut. Yani hummed, and slowly licked along the sides of his dick. His breathing quickened to a pace that alarmed him. She was beginning to control him, making him react like a desperate man under her spell, and that was being disobedient. Her bratty behavior couldn't be corrected in the heat of her deep throating him. That would require major spanking and loud cursing. The last thing he wanted was for their children and security team to hear him curse a blue streak while spanking Yani's ass. She wanted him to hurry up and ejaculate so she could ride his dick and cum.

A surge of semen rose up through his balls. He slapped Yani again for putting a super charged gwak-gwak 3000 on him too soon. She became obedient again and squeezed his fat sack, staving off his release. He thought about letting her milk him and cumming in her mouth, but the decadent and demanding king wanted to paint her face with hot semen when he was ready. It was his way…he craved the ritual of it between them, and also because he knew a little secret about her.

He grinned slyly thinking about it.

Yani had been sneakily watching old videos of him with past lovers. Months earlier he had scanned old computers that he planned on destroying until his spyware cam detected unusual activity in secret files. The spycam revealed Yani's viewrship and he chuckled at the thought of her using him for her personal porn collection. He said nothing, and left the old computers where they stayed in their home, pretending to ignore them as old artifacts from his past life. The most viewed images were his cum shots on women's faces, and he clocked the intense looks of pleasure on her face when he did it to her. She loved submitting to him that way and it was a great help to their energetic sex life. Lovemaking wasn't as frequent as it used to be because their lives were so busy, but the intensity increased because of it.

Yani continued the arousing slow sucking. He watched her glossy plump lips slide back and forth across the top half of his dick. Her fawning eyes stayed locked on his, riling up his body because she made the act of dick sucking look so illicit. So pornographic.

Every now and then she would stop sucking and rubbed her lips back and forth across the mushroom cap creating a delicious tickling. His balls throbbed. She twisted her fingers around the head to give him new sensations, never once breaking eye contact. Yani knew how to chip away his defenses by giving off innocent vibes. She'd stay on her knees looking up at him with her big titties all out, nipples perky and offered to him like delectable appetizers. That look took him back to St. Thomas and the first time he ever touched her. His dick felt heavy between his legs. Thoughts of her back then being a little spitfire towards him ratcheted up his emotions for her in the present. In six days he would wed the most beautiful, cunning, and loving woman he had ever had to call his own. She latched onto him like a ride or die and he never wanted her to be that way ever again. She deserved better…she deserved more from him. His best. No, he would be a ride or die for her. Always.

He palmed her breasts and squeezed them. Lifted them up and down. Thumbing her nipples with wide circles, he listened to her breathy pants of pleasure. She stroked his dick. Yani would soon be the composed queen of a mighty nation in public, but at night, she would always be his nasty little slut…on her knees begging for Daddy dick to be stuffed in all of her orifices. That turned him on as he pushed her tits together. Her eyes were glassy. Lips pouted. She reached down and peeled back the wings of her inner labia giving him peek-a-boo glimpses of her wet pink. She needed his dick and slapped her pussy lips to ignite a wild fire in him.

"Taste mi," she purred.

Yani held up her wet fingers scented with her love and he licked them, opening his mouth wider so she could stuff three digits inside to paint his tongue with the dew. He swallowed her offering and she traced the shape of his lips with her own until the swollen skin on his lips itched for more.

"Killmonger."

Her moist lips pushed out the air to say that name. It ended him. He jumped to his feet and leveled the deep slit of his dick toward her cheek.

"Yani! Fuck! Fuck!"

Hollering out more expletives, a rush of thick hot cum splashed all over the side of her face. It dripped down to her neck in a sticky white deluge. He gulped for air and groaned to the ceiling.

Cumming on her face soothed the raging libido in N'Jadaka long enough for him to gather Yani in his arms and put her back on the bed. She leaned on her side again. Curling around her ass, he lifted her heavy thigh and pushed back inside her pussy.

"…fucking this pussy…."

He groaned and pumped, letting his lust take over, grateful he ejaculated on her face first because he would've broke her back if he hadn't. She took the pounding like a graceful queen, fully aware that he was lost in the pussy, her pleasure forgotten because her loving blotted out all of his senses. He took advantage of his selfishness because once she became queen, their sex life would switch over to ancient protocols that dictated that the queen had to cum first with her pussy being eaten before the king could even put his dick inside of her. Yani looked forward to that, and he plowed into her knowing that he had a week left to be a bedroom bully.

He smacked her ass cheek harder, talked his shit in her ear and knew his dick tugged on her labia long enough. The king pushed her onto her back and mounted her with one purpose: to hear her scream his name in his ear.

"Cum all over this big dick. Show me how much you love me."

Rocking into her, he held onto her bouncing tits and they both watched him pump long strokes into quivering walls. Her mouth fell open and he crushed her with his full weight. Her lips brushed against his ear and he waited to her that old name of his called out.

It didn't take long.

"Killmonger…Killmonger…fuck me…fuck me Killmonger…."

The silky muscular walls of her pussy squeezed around his dick in a constant flow of contractions that only added to his pleasure listening to her cry out for more. The ecstasy of her voice spiraled him out of his soul.

Hunched over her, N'Jadaka pressed his face into her pillow and roared into the cotton. His dick swelled inside of her and the intense throbbing rippled all the way to his anus and down the back of his ankles. He gasped like he was dying, mashing Yani's breasts into his sweaty chest and enjoying the rooted sensation of his balls throbbing and pushing out semen.

"Goddammit," he sputtered into her hair.

His eyes rolled back into watery sockets that blurred his vision. He rolled over and she climbed on top of him, breasts swinging in his face. Yani bounced on his dick and he thrust up to meet her passionate energy. He settled into sucking on her nipples and areola, letting her rock the bed with her own efforts. She gave him nurturing with the fucking, cooing to him and rubbing his locs.

"My man works so hard…you like your queen taking care of the royal dick, Daddy?"

He nodded, groaning at her soft accent and the way her pussy yanked on his dick with perfect timing. She went at his stiffness at the speed and depth that was comfortable for her and he submitted to whatever she wanted to give him. He watched the up and down movements and admired how shiny she made his dick. Her sticky wetness overflowed and made his lap slippery. The sounds of a fat ass smacking on his balls pleased his ears.

Yani leaned forward and her breasts covered his face entirely, smothering him in buttery softness like a fleshy curtain hiding him from the world. Grateful to be hidden inside her warmth, he relaxed into letting go of all of stresses, all of his problems, all of his worries. He let his queen carry him away to physical delights that poured life back into him. That's what she had always been for him. A life giver. A true goddess the way Tahir had called her.

He started hollering and Yani slammed her hand over his mouth. His heels pressed down into the mattress and his toes curled. Yani panted above him, her voice going up an octave as her second release ascended its peak.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming on your dick, Killmonger!"

She whipped her head back and forth. Arching her back, her nails clawed his chest.

"Oh, God….oh god! Killmonger…!"

He grabbed her arms and pressed her against his chest. Thrusting his hips upward, he forced Yani to take all the dick as her pussy contracted and milked every drop of cum he shot into her. Their cries of lust co-mingled into an ancient primordial release.

N'Jadaka's voice became hoarse and Yani cradled his face and kissed him, uniting all of their parts together. Her slow languid kisses centered him once more. He hugged her tight, his face mashed into her breasts, and she rubbed his head. They both could feel his stiff dick still throbbing inside of her.

"Can you take more?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Go to the restroom and come on back," he said.

He smacked her ass cheek and she climbed off of him.

Waiting for her to urinate and put special lubricants on her vulva and inside her vagina, N'Jadaka stretched his body. His dick fell back onto his stomach, the head pulsing and dribbling semen above his belly button.

"Fuck, I miss this shit," he said to himself.

Yani returned and they kissed. He licked a trail down to her pussy and pampered her with plenty of earned licks and kisses. The sweet odor of the lubricant she used to protect her womanly parts excited him. He blew a soft breath on her clit and the lubricant warmed up on her vulva adding more pleasure to their adult play time. The pale lighting of the sky heralded the new morning. Yani came in his mouth with her thighs covering his head.

Before the children arose to greet them, Yani rode his dick reverse cowgirl so he could watch the new weight of her backside gleam from the sunlight. Each time she rose up, he watched how tight her pussy gripped his dick. He kept quiet, swallowing his groans, nearly crying himself looking at how big her ass had gotten. N'Jadaka knew the weight gain wasn't from pregnancy. They had been apart since her last period, but he imagined how she would look with pregnancy weight. He liked her chunky and round like a butterball. Her weight had fluctuated over the last year, but it had settled down in the last two months until she did her book tour.

He watched the massive orbs of jiggly ass cheeks bounce on him. It was insane to have a body like that. But it was all his. Her voluptuous gifts belonged to him.

A new thought floated in his mind.

Part of the royal protocols meant that Yani wouldn't be permitted to take birth control during their wedding and honeymoon. Any child conceived during the first month of marriage to a royal couple was a sign of a prosperous future. The world was missing billions of people. Wakanda needed to repopulate. That meant she couldn't be on the contraceptive shots Wakandans used. She would already be weaned off of it to match the timing of their wedding.

He could get her pregnant right then and there.

Yani arched her back and wiggled her backside. She studied his face over her shoulder as she made love to him in the best way for him to admire her body. His dick seemed to get harder thinking about impregnating her before the wedding.

"Do that shit, Ma. Shake that ass."

Yani giggled and tossed her braids over her one side of her head and continued watching him watch her move.

"Look at all this ass…."

She reached back and lifted her ass cheeks for him, her light pink manicured nails looking lovely splayed out to tease him by digging into the ripeness of that bubble. He smacked her butt hard. They'd been fucking for three hours after the troubling news broadcast. He gripped the sheets admiring the dimpling in her backside. If she grew bigger back there during a new pregnancy, she would probably get stretch marks. Titties would get bigger too. He remembered what they looked like filled with milk and he rubbed his large hands all across both ass cheeks, sinking his fingers into the weight.

Sweat dripped down her body and pooled around the indentations on her lower back. She wound her waist teasing the tip of his dick before sliding back down, clapping her own cheeks for him. The woman knew how to keep him satisfied. He gripped her waist and kept her bounce steady. His balls ached to release. He already knew she was fatigued but kept going because she missed him so much and wanted to show off for him longer.

"Such a good girl, Yani. You took good care of this dick. I can't wait to put some more babies in this pussy."

His loose talk brought a glance back at him. Her pussy squeezed his dick with his baby talk. He laughed.

"You heard me girl. Might get you pregnant right now if you keep playing with me like this…shit. Get down for me…just like that. Arch that back. Yeah baby, givin' me that right triangle action…yeah, there it go…head all the way down…big ass up…"

N'Jadaka wistfully stared at Yani in the doggy position, her head to the side so he could watch her face while he smashed. He held onto her waist and pushed in. They had to hurry or else there'd be a pounding on the door with three sets of feet jumping up and down to get their attention.

CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.

Loud. So loud.

Perspiration dropped down from his face onto her spine. His kimoyo beads lit up bright yellow. Okoye was notifying him of incoming reports from Wakanda. He had an hour before the general came to him.

He groaned once Yani hit that spot on his dick with her pussy that felt like lips and tongue suction. The queen had skills that were mindblowing. She started cumming before he did so he rode her wave of pleasure, encouraging her to squirt all over him and fuck up the covers even more with all their fluids on the blanket. He pulled out and palmed her ass, holding the tip of his dick close to her entrance where he shot ribbons of heat all over her labia. Sitting back on his haunches, he admired the way her tight pink opening throbbed and glistened with his cum covering it. She moaned softly at his gentle fingering of the pretty mess he made.

He rubbed her booty and then helped her get under the covers. Kissing her forehead he wasn't surprised to see her drift away quickly from exhaustion. She knew more than anyone it would be some time before they could be like that again until their wedding night. Once back in Wakanda there would be a whirlwind of duties and ceremonial events for their betrothal march.

His dick finally went limp.

He showered and changed into a saffron yellow lounging tunic and slacks. Kora arrived on time to get the children up and ready for breakfast with the rest of the family. He kissed them goodbye and welcomed Okoye and Ayo into the suite.

"Sit," he said.

He poured himself fresh orange juice and nibbled at some breakfast pastries his personal chef sent down from the half cruiser floating invisibly above the hotel roof. Getting comfortable in a side chair, he watched the two Doras on the couch.

Okoye tapped her beads and ten pictures of African men floated above her wrist. She flicked the images above the hotel coffee table and N'Jadaka peered at each one with stern eyes. Each man came from various nations on the continent in service of genocide and predatory exploitation. Okoye tapped each image as she spoke.

"Angola, Congo, Rwanda, Uganda, Sudan, Nigeria, Central African Republic, South Sudan, Somalia, and Ethiopia. Each man neutralized as requested," Okoye said.

She gave him time to inspect the stats on each man's file report before swiping them away and bringing up targets in Eastern and Western Europe.

"Ukraine. Russia. England. France. Germany. Spain. Turkey. Italy. Norway. Sweden," Okoye said.

She went through all twelve countries in South America and ended with combined targets in the U.S. and Canada.

"Any blowback yet? Suspicions?"

Ayo spoke up.

"None kumkani. Each target was studied for months before our War Dogs acted. If there were pre-existing medical conditions, we exacerbated the problem. Others were set up with accidents or placed in precarious positions through threats of exposure. Several committed self-harm when faced with public humiliation," Ayo said.

The women led him through detailed intelligence. Yani eventually woke up and padded past a narrow hall in a long ivory robe to shower and dress. Okoye and Ayo didn't notice her.

"Kumkani, there is one more target," Okoye said.

She tapped her beads and Agent Everett Ross's image popped up along with his ex-wife, C.I.A. Director Valentina Fontaine.

N'Jadaka tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair.

"Since Nick Fury has been gone, Ross is our only reliable plant. I can't take any chances trying to turn anyone around from the inside. None of them can be trusted. Not even the Black ones," he said.

"We are on standby to neutralize them as soon as you give us word," Okoye said.

"I want Ross dead, but not until I've used him up. As long as he thinks he's cool with us, I'll string him along. We can use him to get intel on Fontaine. She's making waves in the intelligence community and they're still somewhat close from what we've gathered so far."

"He wants to meet with you before you leave," Okoye said.

"Nah. I have no desire to talk with him. Just tell him I'm busy with my nuptials and will be unavailable for a month. I'm honeymooning with Yani in Umbono Cove on the houseboat. I don't want to be bothered with anything. Ramonda will oversee everything in my absence. Understood?"

They nodded.

A knock at the entrance door brought them all into guarded attention. Ayo answered. N'Jadaka spotted an Onyx Squad captain standing next to Mpilo.

"Kumkani, sorry to disturb your meeting. I have a private message from the President of the United States," Mpilo said.

N'Jadaka waved the young man over to him. Mpilo handed him a thick beige envelope with the Presidential seal on it. He read the short message inside.

"The President would like a private meeting with me too before we leave," N'Jadaka said.

"Your schedule is under tight security. We would need adequate time to set up additional protective measures inside the White House," Okoye said.

"They don't want to meet at the White House."

"Where then?"

"Camp David."

"The American Department of Defense already has additional surveillance on us since our arrival in this country. Nothing we can't handle if they try something there," Ayo said.

N'Jadaka thrummed his fingers again on the armchair.

"They've set the meeting a day after Yani's television interview."

"Will you go?" Yani interjected from behind them.

Everyone lowered their heads to Yani. She stepped into the living room area dressed in a long cozy pocket dress with vivid colors that reminded him of Black Creek in Wakanda, the place where his parents were entombed. Her hair was elaborately wrapped in a matching headwrap. She took a seat at the small dinette table by the window where their morning meal was set up. Pouring herself fruit juice, she sipped and stared at him. N'Jadaka tossed the invitation on the coffee table.

"I don't want to be bothered," he said.

"I think you should go. At least see what he wants. You won't come here again for awhile and it's time that he gets to see you in an informal place. Maybe you'll catch him off guard without all the eyes here in D.C.," Yani said.

He considered it.

"Leave us," he said.

Mpilo, the Doras , and the Onyx Squad guard removed themselves from the suite. He joined Yani at the table and they fixed themselves plates of food and ate together.

"You really want me to go?" he asked.

Yani stuffed a small Wakandan red berry pastry in her mouth.

"I think President Matthew Ellis needs to see the man that frightens him so much. Think of it as a flex if you want," Yani said.

N'Jadaka grinned.

"And people out here think you're just some sweet faced beauty on my arm," he said. "That means I won't be able to travel back home with you and the kids."

She shrugged and sipped on more juice brought from their new homeland.

"It just means I get to miss you again and we can have another reunion in our bedroom back in Birnin Zana."

He widened his legs and patted his thigh. Yani left her seat and sat on his lap. He rubbed on her booty again and rested his head on her breasts.

"I want to be on a houseboat with you…naked. Making long slow love under the moon and stars."

"We will do that soon enough."

"A whole month, you and me…partially alone."

"Don't remind me. Riki has already complained that they don't get to join us until two weeks into our honeymoon."

"Man, two weeks off with just you and me. Yeah, you definitely getting pregnant Yani."

She slapped his arm.

"Stop putting that out in the universe. We said we'd wait two more years before trying…and trying is the operative word, sir. I'm not taking the man-made contraceptive shots as tradition dictates, but I am taking precautions."

She held up the bluish drink she sipped on.

"This was given to me by Umama. Two glasses a day and it inhibits any eggs from fertilizing. You can shoot up the club and I won't be penalized for forsaking tradition…technically."

"Alright then…practice getting pregnant is good enough for me."

"Aren't three children enough for you already for the time being?"

"Nah. I'm making a whole new tribe with you."

"Easy for you to say, I'm the one who has to carry your big babies."

"I'll be right by your side spoiling you every step of the way. You make pretty babies, Yani, and my family's genes are strong. They all gonna look like me."

He kissed her neck and let his full lips linger there.

"Tell me you love me, Yani."

She cupped his chin and raised it.

"I love you."

"Say it again."

He nuzzled against her breasts and she stroked his lengthy locs.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," she said above his head.

Closing his eyes, N'Jadaka listened to Yani's heartbeat and rested in her bosom of peace.

Chapter 2 HERE.

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[blue-grama]

Jesus motherforking shirtballs

Or: I am asking every business journalist to take one (1) gender studies class before I tear my hair out.

This interview came across my dash and it's a lot of fun, particularly Apo's "dad joke" actually being a hilariously cringey pickup line, but one aside by the writer made me wince.

ASDKHGKJ. This is not the first time I've seen an article about BL or gay romance in general speculate that the reason female audiences enjoy gay male romance is because there are no other threatening, icky girls on screen. I find this exceedingly irritating and misogynistic and I'm gonna rant about it. Now, look. Maybe there are women-identifying people out there watching mlm romance because they are threatened by beautiful actresses. Maybe. I haven't met every woman in the world. But this reasoning is, in my opinion, some male-gaze bullshit and needs to be smacked down. A non-exhaustive list of reasons to like mlm romance that AREN'T based on some weird idea of female competitiveness and insecurity: 1. Queer people... exist? Look, the LGBTQ+ community alone isn't the reason KP had huge international success. Just numbers-wise, it was probably watched by more straight people than not. But ignoring that audience makes absolutely no sense, especially because sexuality is fluid and many viewers interested in LGBTQ+ media may be uncertain/exploring. Cultural anthropologist Thomas Baudinette has talked about how many "straight women" exploring BL turned out not to be so straight. It's a thing. (Here on Tumblr the LGBTQ+ audience is THE thing, but there's a lot of selection bias here, obviously.)

2. A good romance is a good romance

In my personal (and admittedly limited) experience, cishet men have a hard time grasping this, but give me a good, swoony romance and IDGAF about the genders involved. I've noticed this is very common among my female-identifying and nonbinary friends, regardless of their sexual attractions in real life. Good chemistry is good chemistry, a good story is a good story, and honestly it's kinda insulting to silo LGBTQ+ romance off as something you need a particular reason to watch, if you're someone who likes watching romance. 3. Female gaze

Look. Mile and Apo are blisteringly hot individuals. It's interesting this article mentions the action sequences and not the inherent appeal of, say, these two humans exploring each other's bodies in front of God and Deutsche Bank:

Perhaps it's a family publication.

But to get a little more thinky about horniness: If you're a female-identifying person interested in men, it can be a tough slog out there. I'm coming from a western perspective, where romance is looked down upon in general. (Asian media seems more willing to look at the romance audience and go "hmm... $$$!" instead of "ugh, girl stuff.") And even when you get romance-driven stories, the male gaze is fucking ubiquitious. I remember having my mind blown some years ago by Outlander -- a show I did not make it through otherwise -- because the wedding episode in the first season has a sex scene in which the camera lingers on the male lead's face. That is some female gaze shit that you just do not see. I just spent a couple minutes checking in with the sex scenes in Bridgerton, probably the biggest romance-genre hit in the U.S. in some time, made explicitely for a female audience in mind, and even there, the camera spends FAR more time on the female leads' faces in sex scenes. Presumably the idea is that the female viewing audience will be inserting themselves into the scene and imagining her pleasure as their own, but ... show me a man's O-face, you cowards.

KP (and BL in general) does that.

I mean, quite literally. But also figuratively - men are posited as objects of desire, and the viewer is the agent desiring them. Taking a straight female as our theoretical viewer: We're so, so socialized to see females as the objects of desire and men as the agents of desire that even media made with straight women in mind parks the camera on the female lead. BL turns that on its head. The female viewer isn't watching a stand-in for herself being desired. She's actively desiring. I hope it's clear that this is miles away from "other girls are threatening." It's about being the one with agency for once.

4. Removal of the burden of one gajillion years of patriarchical bullshit

This is like a trauma response or some shit, istg, but sometimes it's nice to watch a romance not weighed down by 300,000 years of hetero gender relations. How many times have we seen a female character who is just a male fantasy or who starts out great but gets ruined by bad writing and it's like... fuck. Someone has probably written about this a lot more eloquently and intelligently than me, but sometimes it's just like, geez. Leave women out of it. Let us rest. I'm joking a bit, and this entirely elides the fact that non-het relationships can be just as abusive and problematic as a het relationship out there in the real world, but in the realm of fantasy I do think there's an appeal to stripping away at least part of the gender discourse. Especially for a fully escapist show like KP -- personally, I love a good female character, but I did not have any problem with the dearth of them in that series. Don't make me worry, even subconsciously, about the mafia's maternity leave policy, okay?? Contrary to idea that the mlm aspects save some sort of self-insert space for me in that romance, I as a woman-identified person did not want to be anywhere NEAR that hot mess. I wanted a world that touched on exactly zero of my real-life concerns.

Ok, maybe one real-world concern: How to find a small animal vet at an inconvenient hour.

Anyway, like I said at the start, I can't possibly explain everyone's motivations for watching KP or BL or anything, really. The world is a rich tapestry and sexuality is not a simple binary. But boiling it all down to, "women are insecure" ain't it and I would love to see that explanation permanently retired from casual use. EDIT: I forgot the link to the original article.

[beardedmrbean]

While much of the West remains focused on conflicts in Ukraine and Israel, a barbaric assault on Africans is taking place, yet this is hardly noticed. There is an active strategy by certain politicians and the mainstream media to cover it up.

A struggle today for Africa launched by Islamic terrorists is something Western elites wish to ignore, even as thousands of innocents are being brutally murdered, raped, burned alive, and taken captive. It is mostly a war waged against black Christians by African Islamists—and therefore an awfully sensitive subject. The recent Christmas attack against Christians in Nigeria claimed the lives of almost 200 people, yet it was mostly ignored in the mainstream press.

Some took notice when this centuries-old religious conflict flared in 1989, as Sudan's jihad slaughtered 2.5 million Christians and enslaved perhaps 200,000 more. It ended only in 2005, when the U.S. helped broker a peace deal; in 2011, the south succeeded and become South Sudan, the world's newest nation. More recently, Islamist attacks have spread where Islamic and Christian societies intersect: Mozambique, Niger, and Mali. In Darfur, there is a bit of a twist: Arab jihadists are slaughtering and enslaving Black people who converted to Islam long ago, but refuse to adopt Arab culture and language and who, in addition to being thought of as racially inferior, are not considered real Muslims.

Since the mainstream media is mostly absent, people in the West do not know that these African communities are continuously facing attacks that look very like the widely seen Hamas raids. Yet any decent reporter can easily see the pattern—Islamic jihadists throughout Africa, driven by the near-identical supremacist ideology, storm our villages, slaughter our people with guns and knives, rape our women, and take dozens into captivity.

When African children and women are killed in their sleep, teenage girls sexually trafficked across the Mediterranean, and young boys kidnapped for use as child soldiers, there is no global response. Terrorism is planned, funded, and executed by terrorists and their global networks. Why are there no reports analyzing funders and planners of terrorist murder in Nigeria, of genocidal assaults in Africa?

Can it be because we are Black, and the world just doesn't care about us? Or is it that jihad is just too taboo a topic for the Western press and the human rights community? As the U.S. and Europe look away, we Black Africans die. How is this not a sin?

The U.S. confused the entire world with a narrative that blames climate change for religious conflicts in Africa. According to the State Department, climate change has been depleting water supplies in the Lake Chad region. A scramble for water resources sets nomadic cattle herders (who just happen to be Muslims) against the Indigenous subsistence farmers (who just happen to be mostly Christians), attacking them and banishing them from their ancestral lands. The stark but more inconvenient truth is that Muslim terrorists, waging an Islamic "holy war," are overrunning Christian villages throughout the Lake Chad area and north-central regions of Nigeria. The U.S. Department of State insists on tagging the violence as a farmers versus herders conflict, which, according to a 2023 travel advisory bulletin, "can flare up ... in rural areas." Though Nigeria is the place where 89 percent of the Christians killed for their faith worldwide in 2023 were murdered, the Biden administration removed Nigeria from the U.S. list of Countries of Particular Concern (CPC) for religious oppression, and has never put it back on.

This false narrative is used to obscure the unnerving truth about the nature of the conflict that, if acknowledged, would demand a serious effort by the U.S. to protect our vulnerable Christian African villages from people who want to slaughter and enslave us because of our identity. Our "climate" has changed when armed terrorists surround our villages. But the continued cloaking of Islamic terrorism in a weather narrative has exacerbated the killings and expanded the slaughtering fields of women and children in north-central Nigeria and the Sahel—the horizontal strip across north Africa which culturally divides Arabized Africa from the Indigenous, traditional cultures of the south.

The truth is plain and simple—terrorists take up arms. They kill and take Indigenous people captive. They annex and grab their lands. They call it jihad. Period.

The global community, especially the United States, seems to lack the will to address these genocidal onslaughts. Western inaction spells doom for Africans who are being overrun by jihadists.

What happened to the sleeping citizens in Nigeria's Plateau State, murdered in their hundreds during Christmas Eve 2023, is no different than what happened to Jewish families in their kibbutzim on Oct. 7. Yet no one takes notice. No one hears the cries of the survivors.

The world's silence about the plight of Africans must end.

Stephen S. Enada is executive president of the International Committee on Nigeria (ICON).

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.