The year. 1988. I was working at an advertising firm on Lexington Ave just below 42nd St, three blocks from Grand Central station. I was almost 33 yrs of age then, and after doing time in Esau's [Uncle Sam's] army, I knew I had to do something with my life.
My mother {may she rest in peace} was a devout Jehovah's Witness. She had left me to be evangelical going around preaching that stuff of which in my early childhood I was forced to participate in.
While she was abroad preaching, I was introduced to smoking Herb and reciting Psalms 1 and others in the praise of Jah Rastafari. Graffiti back then where I came from was "God is a Black Man" and "Yankee go home".
It was through Rastafarian concepts and reasoning's that I discovered the reason of the black men's rejection of white Jesus, as the ship H.M.S. Jesus was instrumental in bringing the first slaves to the shores of the western hemisphere.
As a child growing up and forced to attend kingdom hall meetings and the various assemblies of the Russell-ite faction called the Jehovah's Witnesses, and learning to read at an early age I was drawn to the stories of Daniel, King David and Elijah and all the other great stories without really understanding it all. Back then they used the King James Version of the year 1611 before coming out with their version called the New World Translation.
By the age of 18 I had decided to read this book from cover to cover as one would read any other book to see if I could understand it all. I still didn't. Somehow my spirit could not draw close to the other philosophies of the Muslim faith, Hari Krishna, Bhuddism or any other types, the statement that God was/is black still resonated in my soul. But I digress.
By 1988, I had my ear pierced and was a student of the martial arts. I had studied at Wai Hong's 'Fu Jow Pai' on canal street, because I had a ball busting cousin who was a black belt in Goju Ryu. His name was Andre Chong and he said he had studied under the legendary Moses Powell while he was in the Black Panther Party.
He said he saw Mr. Powell put his hand in boiling hot water and take his hand out unscathed, saw him rip the door off of a Volkswagon in anger, and I didn't doubt that after I did three months at 'Fu Jow Pai'.
I also wore a shield of David symbol on a chain around my neck, at the time I just thought it was the star of David until I began to attend classes at I.S.U.P.K. while going to lunch one day, I came across a brother in the elevator and he asked me if I knew why I was wearing the star of David on my neck.
Answering him rather proudly I inquired into the book he had in his hand. It was a book on the philosophy of sword play by some Japanese author and I told him of my interest into the martial arts.
He told me of a place where he studied the arts and asked if I was interested in attending and I said yes. I later found out that this brothers Hebrew name was Raw-Hab. [overcomer].
The first time I went with Raw-Hab to the martial arts classes little did I know that I was to meet the greatest {at least to me} martial arts teacher ever. Raw Hab introduced me as "I brought this brother in to class", and the teacher abruptly and bluntly asked me "Who you"?
I gave him my slave name (Gov't issue on your birth certificate) and he told me his name was Ga-Wap Shamar. {it took me almost 10 yrs to find out his name meant the Body keeper}.
Just before my first lesson from this teacher, while changing from my work clothes to a Gi, I saw brothers coming in and giving each other a military style salute, fist pounding on their hearts saying the words "Yahawah ba sham Yahawahshai barak ah-tha". It meant 'The Most High in the name of his Son Christ bless you. I was in awe of this and was first taught that and how to say it by a beloved brother (NO HOMO) Yadi-ya Ah-la. My English speaking mind got tongue twisted trying to say it the first three times.
After three weeks of attending the martial arts classes, Ga-Wap was always quoting scripture in his classes, and I was taking to the classes like a fish to water. After being asked to come to school where the other brothers went to after the fighting classes, I caved in and went to the book school, finally. This was my formal introduction into the Israelite School of Universal Practical Knowledge.
I.S.U.P.K. was also called the book school (Ba-Yath Sa-Par) or the house of books. It was a Wednesday and teaching time was shared by Ah-Ra-Ya Ah-La (Lion power) and Ta-Har {Pure,}*. At the end of the class we all turned to the east to say the closing prayers and I had a sense of deja-vu when the prayers were said in Hebrew.
I later learned facing the east was a request from the Great King Solomon (Sha-La-Mah) in his prayer that if we should discover ourselves and face the east and pray to Yah that he would forgive us and restore us his nation back to our lands and rightful glory. And lo and behold I did read it already without understanding it.
I had also read many instances of color, like Job (Ya-I-Yab) being black, Solomon, and the Jews and even Jeremiah himself stating that he was black and I wondered at myself how could I have read this book two to three times from cover to cover without even seeing these things? It was as if the Most High had ripped a veil from off of my eyes and I was beginning to see the truth.
Many Black men, after the brutal murders of many of the men and women who sacrificed their lives in the Black Panther party, went over to the Nation of Islam out of the sheer rejection of white lies, that God and his Son and the holy angels were an all white cast.
Some also did so out of fear of life as the white police then known as pigs were ultimately shooting down members of the Party in their offices in cold blood and literally getting off Scott free in committing these horrendous murders and sanctioned by the F.B.I. and the U.S. Gov't.
When I first began to attend classes at I.S.U.P.K. we were about 20 or thirty brothers to each class, there were also seats for around ten sisters. The total number of brothers in the organization was unknown to me but it was about 120-180 brothers. About 180 brothers had passed through and went their separate ways before I came on the scene.
Back in the day while I was a dreadlock selling herb in Brooklyn, whenever I spoke out philosophically on any subject many a person would ask if I wasn't affiliated with the guys wearing those leather belts downtown or in Times Square. Little did I know that I would.
While on the job at Lexington Ave, Raw-Hab had invited me to come and observe a camp at 44th St and Broadway on a Saturday [the Shabbath]. One Saturday afternoon I decided to do so and so I jumped on the #4 train at Moshulu Pkwy and switched to the #2 train at 149th St.
Deciding to move to a car much closer to my exit at 125th St I came into a car with an old man sitting by himself. Simultaneously, three Hispanic looking young men, came into the car eyeballing the old man as if they were going to try to rob him. I froze in my steps and held position by the door parallel to the old man while scoping out the three dudes and the old man.
The old man had looked at me and a semi smirk passed his face as he twirled his mustache and stretched his legs out wearing grey cowboy style boots. The dudes that had planned to jump the old man saw that I had taken a defensive position to help the old man if they tried nothing and gave up trying and exited at 135th St.
As more people got on as I exited at 125th St I felt better thinking the old man would now be safe from any type of predator. Hmm. I went down to the book school and there I asked about the camp. It was then that I met the Hebrew teacher called Sha-La-Mah (Solomon) and another brother with the Islamic name of Abdul, me and him later riffed a few times as to why he refused to get a Hebrew name.
Now I could have used the correct English term of {He and I instead of me and him but F Esau's damned English}. While I had just met Shalamah and Abdul, I also met Ya-I-Qab {Jacob} the caretaker of the school, a very old and wise man/brother. Abdul had told me he would drop me off by the camp and so I waited for him.
This was also the first time I encountered Charles Epps alias Ya-Shai-Ya, self proclaimed High Priest. At my first sight of him in his garments my face lit up with excitement as I thought here is a man with great wisdom. He must have thought I was looking at him in ridicule as he scowled at me and told me Abdul would not take me to camp as he was riding with Abdul and my presence was not wanted in the same vehicle that he was in. I said okay, shrugged and rode the train downtown to 42nd St and walked up to 44th St.
When I got to 44th St camp I saw the same old man I had seen on the train, and imagine to my surprise he was the head of the school. I also saw Yashaiya and tried to salute him, he was about to ignore me and turn his back when the old man commanded him "Salute him(me), he is one of us".
The brothers in the camp looked so royal and regal and warlike in their dress code it was if they were magnets to all who came in sight to hear them speak, as well as to how they were dressed with studded arm bands and girdles around their waists, many of them spiked studs, was inspiring and awesome.
Yashaiya grudgingly saluted me halfheartedly, but nevertheless I felt great inside as I know knew what I was about to do with my life, and that I had been accepted by the personage of this seemingly old man, whose name I came to find out was Ma-Sha.[Moses].
As I stood at the outskirts of the camp and listened to the various teachers drop knowledge on events historically and present day I was amazed that everything could be proven by the scriptures of the Holy Bible.
Can you imagine what it felt like to discover that here was a group of positive black men who could use the Bible, the same book the white man had used to dupe the world into thinking he was god and the supreme ruler of the earth, these black men were using it to show that the white man was the devil the bible had spoken of and that he and his race were destined for extermination for the evils that they have done, are doing, and will do until they are wiped out?. It was an awesome revelation.
The Brothers would come with newspaper clippings, books, and every other type of visual aid to assist in breaking down the scriptures, the prophesies that affected the Negro both in America and the rest of the world. The most significant visual aids were a picture of black Christ, and a picture of white Jesus which was marked with the number 666 and red horns marked upon his head to depict the devil that he was.
It was here that I found out this white Jesus was none other than Cesare Borgia, painted by Leonardo DaVinci during the French Renaissance to white wash the truth of blacks ruling Europe. Close inspection of his last supper paintings also had Cesare Borgia in at least three positions and women made to look like men in it.
To be continued
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