This week as the British people have been mourning Prince Philip, and I, as a proud British woman chose to pay my respects to the Duke, which sadly sparked anger from black people telling me that the Duke was a racist so I have no business paying tribute to him. This week has been rather sad for me because not only has the nation been mourning, but I have had black people, especially Black Americans who for some strange reason are ANGRY with the British Royal Family and Prince Philip, who happen to idolise DMX, descend on my Twitter and literally scare my white followers, whist abusing me.
I will say this in the most humblest way I possibly can, but it is the truth which needs to be said. My followers are mostly white and other races, other tribes and nationalities who are not black, though I have a REMNANT of black people who follow me, but the point I am making is my followers are calm people, gracious people, who are not used to the barbaric language and rowdy behaviour they have been exposed to by black people on my Twitter over the past days. Sadly its now two different worlds on my Twitter, the angry illogical irrational black people, and the calm rational critical thinking white people. The difference is astounding.
Since the black people descended on my Twitter, a number of my most trusted followers have been forced to shut down their Twitter accounts because they are shocked by the level of anger, rudeness and bullying that black people are willing to openly display in the name of “fighting racism”. The irony.
The thing is, I am used to this kind of barbaric behaviour from black people, I was born in Zimbabwe, one of the most dysfunctional countries in the world, where even on Zimbabwe social media, no eye has seen, no ear has heard, the abominations that Zimbabweans do on Facebook. Zimbabweans will applaud a grown man defecating live on Facebook. Just a few days ago, a Zimbabwean woman who lives in UK and is quite a celebrity on Zimbabwe social media, did a live video whilst she was drunk,, and took off her panties, and started opening her buttocks live on Facebook for people to see her shame and nakedness. Her own daughter, a little girl of about 10 maybe, then came on Facebook to try and stop the live feed, because even as a babe, her sense of right and wrong is far greater than that of her own mother. After this woman, a mother, Ketina Ananiah disgraced herself to this extent on Zimbabwe social media, she was then rewarded with admiration, applauses and sympathy by Zimbabweans for being apparently “real, brave and strong.”
This Zimbabwean woman, who lives in Britain, does these abominations, in front of her daughter, live on Facebook, yet Zimbabweans in their thousands send her messages of support. But, when it comes to me, Mary-Tamar was Jean, when in the past, I shared my pain and trauma, the same people I have screenshot above, the same people sending messages of support to Ketina Ananiah for being a shameful bad mother, abused me mercilessly and called me all sorts of evil names, so much in my secret chambers I would cry tears of blood, because I never understood how it was possible for these people to hate me so much in my purity, and love the people who do far worse evil. Zimbabweans, including my mother, have fought so hard for my children to be taken into care, but I had to be strong. Even when the council made me homeless and wrote a letter to social services so they would take my children, I fought to keep my children.
I drew this picture of myself, when I was fighting for my right to be a loving mother. A God given right I had to fight for.
Yet today, there is a Zimbabwean mother in the UK, a woman not fit to have children under her care, but all Zimbabweans rally behind her and call her a “good mother” for removing her underwear and opening her anus live on Facebook in front of her daughter. Sorry my readers, to share such, but on Zimbabwe social media this is the norm. Imagine, if I Jean Gasho was the one who removed my underwear live on Facebook, in front of my children, all Zimbabweans would have reported me to the police, and social services, and today I wouldn’t be a mother. A UK Zimbabwean, my own ex-sister in law, a nurse called Getrude Musuka once called the police and an ambulance on me to be sectioned under the mental health for standing up to her abuse, and told them to take my children from me. When the police and paramedics came, they had so much mercy on me, and refused to arrest me or section me, they saw me a victim of a people who hated me so much. Yet these same people who once called 999 on me for no reason at all in front of over 50 people to humiliate me, will applaud a mother for removing her clothes live on Facebook in front of her daughter. It’s hypocrisy like this which makes me cry.
Just yesterday, I had a Zimbabwean woman come into my Facebook inbox, and she sent me so much abuse, including a voice note, because she is angry that I am writing about Meghan Markle.
I am sharing these abominations of Zimbabwe social media because I want my white followers to know, that I was born and raised among a people who call evil good and good evil. A people with no sense of morality or shame. I have been through far worse, so what the Black Americans are doing on my Twitter, as barbaric as it may be, is nothing compared to what I have endured in the hands of Zimbabweans.
The only person I speak to from Zimbabwe is my father, because he is the only one who understands me, and comforts me when no one does. Though as a child he did not protect me from my mother, and at one point I resented him so much, but I forgave him, because in my adult years, he tried to fight my mother on my behalf, but he was overpowered by my mother’s army of relatives, he was even bullied for it. My father, the true heir of the Zimbabwe Dynasty, and the only Chief of Zimbabwe I know, the most powerful man spiritually in the Kingdom, as much as he loves his country, he grieves at the mental state of his people.
So as my White, Asian and remnant Black followers send me messages of support, telling me to be strong, telling me that they have to leave Twitter because they can’t bear the abuse I am getting, I am urging you my followers not to quit Twitter. You have to stay, and see the abominations of black people. The time has come for God to vindicate you too, because if you are silenced by black racists, then the world can never change. The time has come for other victims to be heard too. Black people can not be the only victims forever, they have had their time. How about the Indian girl who is abused by her own people for having darker skin. How about the 14 year old Syrian girl who is being sold into marriage to a man old enough to be her grandfather as we speak. Arent their lives as important as Black Lives Matter?
Doesn’t this Syrian young bride’s voice matter too?
It’s the dawn of a new era, whatever they do in secret has to be revealed on a hill top. Hence now the black Americans are exposing their hate and anger for the world to see. I am here to proclaim the dark things black people do in the inner chambers, which is worse than any racism from white people they scream on rooftops.
“Wherefore whatsoever ye have said in the darkness shall be heard in the light; and what ye have spoken in the ear in the inner chambers shall be proclaimed upon the housetops.”
As Britain is still mourning the Prince of the land, I want to encourage the British people to take heart. Some people come into the world to expose darkness as they carry their light, and that’s how the world is changed. Even in death, change can be born. All this madness from black people which is happening before the funeral of the Duke is for a reason. I remember as a young teenager in Zimbabwe at boarding school on one Saturday afternoon, sitting at the very back of the hall, as we were allowed to watch the funeral of a Princess. I remember when Elton John started singing, I remember that picture of William and Harry walking behind their mother’s coffin. I had never seen or felt anything like it.
I remember crying so hard, silently, grieving for a white Princess I had never met. But in so many ways, the death of Princess Diana changed me, and moved me. For it was in her death, that I began to love and appreciate her, because she was after all the Queen of all people’s hearts, even the Queen of a young troubled girl in Zimbabwe a world apart from hers.
Princess Diana was probably the first white woman I fell in love with.
And I am here today in England, the land of Hope and Glory, the Promised Land, and I believe that change is coming to us Britons. I have white women writing to me, telling me their stories of pain on British soil. I have white women, who are depressed and have no one to turn to. One white woman said to me she wanted to end her life, but my essays have given her hope. One British white woman bravely shared with me openly on my blog, her journey of homelessness.
Something tells me that there are a lot of white people in this world, who have no voice. White women who are more SILENCED than Meghan Markle can ever claim to be. Something tells me there are more white people who have no white privilege, than those who have it, “whatever white privilege may be”, in Prince Charles’ voice. These white people who are accused of having a privilege they don’t have, can not voice their pain, because their VOICE or cry for help is labelled as RACISM.
But these are my people, this is my tribe.
My people are the ones who love me, no matter what colour. My people are the ones who feel my pain so much they are quitting Twitter on my behalf.
My people are the silenced ones. The silenced white people are my people. My people are the silenced Asian people. My people are the silenced remnant black people, the rare black people like me, who suffer much racism and pain in the hands of other black people.
So take heart my beautiful “white readers”. Be proud to be white, it’s not a sin. Just as I am proud to be black. You are free from the sins of your forefathers, just as I am free from the oppression of my forefathers. Maybe this is fate’s way of welcoming you into the black world in all it’s glory. I am more grieved by you being silenced, my readers, but nature taught me that when being attacked, you do not retreat, because if you do, you become prey to your foes.
Nature or rather Zimbabwe, the animal Kingdom taught me to be a conquerer, that no matter what comes my way, I have no choice but to stand taller than a giraffe, to roar louder than a tiger, and to soar higher than an eagle…
So that is why as a black woman, I will fight for the rights of my tribe, the silenced white voice in a “black victim” dominated world…
The Genesis of The Revelation By
Mary-Tamar was Jean
Ps: I am a mother of 7, who writes between breastfeeding and running after a toddler, I have no proof reader, so it’s possible my essays may have errors but I try my best to be a perfect writer x
