As I slept last night, or I should say this morning, because it happened around 4am, I encountered what the world of science would call “sleep paralysis” or “REM sleep”. Although many people find relief when they realize that there is a scientific explanation of this phenomena, it does not soothe me, because I know with me, it is not the same. No scientist can explain or perhaps even understand what I go through when experiencing this, none of them can. I always have to go back to my childhood in Jamaica, because it was after I became who I am, Obara Meji, that I realize that most of the experiences that I would have when I became an adult showed themselves to me as a child. This lends to my deja vu experience that I have sometimes. Let me give you an example before getting on with the subject at hand.




Good morning one and all. I hope everyone had a great weekend as I have due to the first session of my online classes. Sunday I went out into nature along with my daughter and two of my Babalawo brothers to do Ebo (Eh-bo) which is sacrifice. When we came back, they had come to my home for a meeting, we have our own egbe (meaning society or group) where we meet and discuss things spiritual and also Isese (E-shay-shay – which is Yoruba for Tradition and this is of Ifa/Orisha) as we are all (including my children), traditional practitioners of Isese, and this means that we practice the way of our ancestors and the way it is supposed to be practiced as done by the Yoruba people of South Western Nigeria. Not a variation of or similar to, or a bastardized version, but the authentic way of practice as it is done today in Africa.




A long time ago, while I slept in my bed with my then husband, I heard footsteps coming to my room slowly. I tried to open my eyes but I heard a voice whisper to me to stay silent and keep quiet. I did. I heard the floorboards of my parquet floor squeak or creak as whoever it was walked slowly to the direction of my bedroom, and I laid still, frozen and afraid.





I typed today’s post last night, and today as I got up to finish it, I do not know what I touched but everything erased from the screen. I sat here looking at the screen and I searched the board for the lost content which had reached over a thousand words but nothing! This is very hard for someone who cannot type such as myself, and I feel like crying as I type this, but I am reminded that there are no coincidences in life, everything happens for a reason, I will comfort myself with that thought.




There was a time when I had a Beauty Salon, a very big beautiful one, In my lifetime I have had three and they were all successful, but as I had a bigger calling I could not keep them up and running forever because God had a very different plan for me, and so here I am Obara Meji. During the time of my fist shop, all was well in the beginning. The shop’s decor was gorgeous and I in my role as stylist was excellent, I am simply being honest not boastful. With success comes enemies and one of my biggest enemy was the wicked baby father’s equally wicked woman, a witch with a broom stick, with whom he had sneaked around with at the time of living with me and our children, we were a family then, and of course his equally, equally wicked mother supported all the evil done to me, as she was born with two horns and a pitch fork.





The time had come for me to go to Africa for my initiation, I had been aware of the Orishas since I was a teenager, when I had found the book on Elegua, (Elegba or Esu in Africa) but I had not realized, but for a long time that all this came from Africa, which  the Cubans have been great custodians of, to some extent.  After they, as slaves were dropped off in Cuba during the trans Atlantic slave trade, the African holocaust.







After I had gone through my first initiation, the three years I spent at home under the tutelage of non-physical beings sent from within time and space to teach me and take me on my journeys, the world seemed to make more sense to me. One day at a time, I saw people differently, I saw their true colors so to speak, and I feared no one or nothing. I had become re-educated, to all I thought I knew, during my training. All that I believed I knew were stripped away. Before I go further with this story, I want to share something with you. There were many times when my spiritual elders (Spirits) came for me to take me on my journeys, as I slept they would come and my spirit would rise up from my body and go with them and it was so swift that one minute I was in my room and the next in some other realm.




Growing up, I had never heard of the Yoruba people of South Western Nigeria, and I certainly had no idea that I would ever travel to Africa in my life time. It is the hope and dreams of every Jew through out the world to travel to Israel and also the same for every other Ethic groups born outside of their ancestral homeland to one day go.  While some Africans throughout the diaspora may have an urge to do so, not many do, even if they have the means to do it, they do not go. The world’s descriptions of Africa and Africans through all sorts of public medium has affected our dear land so negatively, that even though we brag about our color and of our race “Say It Loud, I Am Black And I am Proud”, most blacks are proud just to say it “Loud”, but have nothing to do with the Land from whence their forefathers came, as a matter of fact they are ashamed. There is a song which quotes a line, “Can a mother’s tender care cease toward the child she bare”? Africa, (Alkebulan, the original name for Africa), awaits her children’s return, even if it is just a visit, while the child may forget the mother, the mother will never forget her child.





Good morning, I hate to be repetitive, but I realize that in some circumstances I am not able to help it. As you all know everyday I worry about what I will write as a post on this blog, and as much as there are many topics which can be discussed and written about daily, I worry because almost every story here on this blog site is about my personal experiences and therefore the truth. Not the truth embellished, just simply the truth, and a part of my worry is in waking up those memories that I have since laid to rest in my mind, not wanting to re-visit them. I must say that often times when I read the posts and see my life in black and  white on the computer screen, I become a little embarrassed about some of my naivety, but then I calm myself  in the realization that maybe naivety was or is not such a bad thing, as I believe I still am. Naivety is the trait of my astrological sign Aries. We are strong, dominant, sure, confident people, kind, loving and caring. We are leaders and go- getters, but naive is a flaw within our character as Aries people, and it is very present in me. Does that make me vulnerable, yes it does, weak? absolutely not.





I once use to attend this spiritual church. The church started at nights around nine and it was a lot of fun, the place was very small but lively. The mother for the church was a short fat dark skin woman who liked to control her members. I was not a member but I use to attend with some of my friends because of the fun-loving friendly atmosphere more than anything else. This was way back then. After a while I started to have a funny feeling about the woman who something was not right, and I would go home and have visions of her looking differently than what she really looked like in real life so I started to attend the services lesser and lesser and so did my other two friends of whom I was the youngest. After a while I stopped going all together, I did not like the way she tried to monitor our movements and had members of her congregation cleaning her house, washing and cooking for her, NEVER me though, I was never easily tamed. More

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