Another night in the streets... 5-0!!!

Po-po and the cops again,/
no homo but they cocking them/
Four-fos and glocks and them/
They the paparrazi, they the livest posse/
Kamakazi, nazi, nazi,...
copy papi?

So I'm sitting in front of my house at around midnight just chillin' and talking with my boy. So yeah it's midnight, we're supposed to be safely inside our homes but this is a pretty safe neighbourhood plus I'm in front of my house. Nothing could happen to me right?
... Wrong!!!

Down the road from our house we could see a group of people led by what seems to be soldiers... no police... no gendarmes... who cares, one of those people in uniforms. Me and and my friends continued our conversations knowing that we both had nothing to fear from these uniformed people since we're innocent, law-abiding teenagers, chilling on the block. And we're both in front of our houses.

As the group got closer we noticed that the uniformed people were preceeded by what seemed to be civilians in some form of a line. Me and my boy barely even paid any attention to this group, we were too busy catching up on the latest news in high school and in the neighbourhood.

Finnally this group was at our level. Now that they were closer I could see that they were the police. Whose job, by the way, is to protect us innocent law-abiding civilians.

"Donc vous la, depuiiis que vous nous voyez venir vous etes assis la comme ci ya rien?" "Pas de problèmes, montrez moi vos pieces"

Of course me and my friend didn't have our ID's, I mean we didn't need our pièces to be sitting in front our houses. And anyway, what's this whole deal with pièces? Only in France and french colonies have I heard of such a stupid concept. You have to have your I.D. on you at all times or else you can get in trouble with the police. How stupid is that?

"On n'a pas nos pieces mais comme on est devant chez nous, on peut aller les chercher.
_ Aaaah Très bien! Ok rentrez dans le rang vous allez dormir au commissariat ce soir"

Wow, this fucking cop is asking for my I.D. (for no reason) and now he won't even wait till I go get it, and i'm in front of my house. What type of bullshit is this? And of course there was nothing I could do but join the "rang".
Well, not quite I joined the "rang" alright, after I had rang my bell like a madman. This of course did not please the oppressors(that's what police should be called) so I had to be pulled away from in front of my own door and join the line by force. My friend who was just calm and said to me in english "don't worry once someone comes out of your house they'll sort it out".

Big mistake for him. Because that was enough justification for the oppressor to hit him.
"Vous anango la avec votre anglais la vous etes impolis hein! Taisez vous la bas! Faut plus je vais vous entendre parler tu as compris non"

Anango is slang for Nigerian by the way.
So let me get this straight: it's a crime to not have I.D. while sitting in front of your house. And it's also a crime to speak english. Hm, did somebody say XENOPHOBIA?

We were now leaving and going towards the main road, (of course all walking in line like some type of army drill or something). When another peaceful, law-abiding gentleman who was just heading home was accosted by the oppressors.

"Bonsoir monsieur, vos pièces s'il vous plait.
_Mais je suis un resident du quartier, je rentre a la maison
_On s'en fout, vos pièces s'il vous plait
_Tenez"

After carefully inspecting this man's id, the oppressors let him go home. After a few more steps I look behind and see my mom coming out of the house. Man forget being gangsta!

"MAMAN A L'AAAAIIIDE, VIENS ME SAUVER!!!"

Well, by now I should have known that asking for help from my mom would be considered a crime too. So of course I get hit too, by a man who is like one foot shorter than me. Hm, I was definetly thinking about hitting him back. But one little detail, when I looked at the machine gun that one of these oppressors was carrying, I forgot about all that. I ain't tryina find out if it's loaded or not.

But at least I could see my mom talking to one of them and finding out what the problem was. Of course turning around to look at my mom was also a crime.

"Toi la, tu es bandit hein! Si tu continues je vais t'arreter pour insolence!"

Wow, I would have laughed at that but I wasn't exactly in the funniest environment.

On our way to the main road we also passed by my friend's house and one of his peeps saw him and went to alert his old man. So reinforcements were on the way. Meanwhile we've finnally made it to the main road and these oppressors are actually stopping taxis and telling us to get inside.

"On s'enva au commissariat"
Once again, those guns were looking very persusasive, but somehow I actually still found it in me to argue from inside the taxi. And my mom and my friend's dad were finnally getting here with the ID's. One of the people who was in the line (and now in the taxi) with me actually asked me, to be quiet and to just let it be, because "that's the way it is". I was trying to have the patience to explain to him that actually this is not the way it is and this is not supposed to happen. But he was adamant, and by then I had lost by my patience:

"Pardon mon ga faut pas me fatiguer, toi et puis moi on n'a pas les problèmes"

And on that note I exited the taxi to join my mother in her arguing

"KOFFOUR, JUST SHUT UP AND BE QUIET, BEFORE YOU GET INTO MORE TROUBLE"

Hm, I see. Ok let me at least do something productive here. I approached the oppressor who hit me:
"C'est toi qui m'a tapé non?
_Oui petit impoli la
_Tu as la chance que vous etes, parce que en temps normal..."

By then our parents had managed to convince the oppressors to let us go and we could go home now. Hey! at least they didn't have to pay anything!( trying to be positive here).

We could go home safe now, another night in the streets...

At the party the next day one of my friend was making of me.
"man these cops are crazy the same thing happened to me in Gambia"

Isn't that great, oppressors are an international organization. They oppress everywhere!



P.S. Yesterday I got pulled over here in Canada for D.W.B. not D.U.I, D.W.B. driving while black a serious offence in these parts

P.P.S. For all those interest in Ivorian politics, c'est Alassane Ouattara lui meme qui a envoyé "carte de sejour" en Cote d'Ivoire quand il etait Premier ministre pour taxer ces propres frères qui sont en train de le suivre maintenant...

MLK day

Yesterday was Martin Luther King day...
But unfortunately I don't think a lot people understand!

So here is an excerpt from "Letter from a birmingham jail" This is when he was jailed for leading a protest in Birmigham against segregated lunch counters at local restaurants. Local preachers actually criticized him for being an "extremist".

"We have waited for more than three hundred and forty years for our constitutional and God-given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jet-like speed toward the goal of political independence, and we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward the gaining of a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. I guess it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick, brutalize and even kill your black brothers and sisters with impunity; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see the depressing clouds of inferiority begin to form in her little mental sky, and see her begin to distort her little personality by unconsciously developing a bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son asking in agonizing pathos: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross-country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and "colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and your wife and mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tip-toe stance never quite knowing what to expect next, and plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of "nobodiness"; then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into an abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience."

You can read the whole thing at: http://www.historicaltextarchive.com/sections.php?op=viewarticle&artid=40

And here is an interesting take on the state of hip-hop and black leaders:
http://www.allhiphop.com/editorial/?ID=294

I'm almost done writing my next post, will be up soon