Firstly, I am not defaming Papa, neither am I saying Daddy is in hell. My Papa made it, he made peace with Yah before he passed, I know he did, but I am here to tell Daddy’s story. He would want me to. When I was born, Papa was so angry at my birth, for he wanted a boy. An heir. His first legitimate SON. But I came out female, and he shrugged. Then when I was about three, I took a pen and began to draw symbols, the triangle, the all seeing eye, and my Papa smiled, he knew then that I was truly his darling baby girl, the heir, and behold he loved me. He favoured me rather. He saw the gift in me…and did everything in his power to protect it! For they all wanted it.
When I was 5, behold my Mama went into hospital for a long long long time. I never cried by the way, I never spoke, I never missed her. I was a strange child. Daddy was happy, and he loved me for it!
Oh he did!
Behold there was a war in the Kingdom of Ophir…
The girl child became the sacrifice…the Freemason in Daddy was officially born. He took me somewhere, and I saw the power, I beheld the glory, the animal Kingdom, the APES, I played with them, like a little Tarzan, hidden in Kariba, a lodge, and I drew, and drew and drew the sign…did I mention Prince Philip was there, lol maybe I shouldn’t, I am that woman whom the world calls mad, yet I write the greatest mysteries never told…
A war happened in Kariba!
I jumped from the bosom of an Ape and screamed!
So yes I cry all the time when I listen to this song, because I miss Papa, my Chief, and remember the day…
“She’s mine! Philip! She’s mine!” Daddy roared like a lion. My Papa my defender. I ran behind him, and hid.
I cried. Then I drew the TRIANGLE on the mud, the zig zag patterns, and behold the DRAGON saw me. Musikavanhu! The God of Zimbabwe! The grandmaster of illuminati. The source of world power! The river god, nyami nyami, that old serpent! The mermaids danced…
RRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr…..they made that squeaky sound I hate so much,
“Sacrifice the gift” they chanted…in the water, in the Zambezi
“Mhondoro dzinomwa muna Zambezi, Mhondoro dzinomwa muna Save,” they sang…
“No!” Said Daddy.
But there was a price to pay, so he made the sacrifice.
“I want her in England Never! It will be for her own protection! When she turns 16, I want her in the ~Kingdom!” The Iron Duke spoke quietly, even using humor, he laughed at Never.
And here I am, in Jerusalema, my promised Land.
So it’s no coincidence my Daddy and the Iron Duke died only a few weeks apart this year, it was a sign. It was destiny. The end of an ERA. It’s no coincidence I mourned them both, for I loved them both. Secretly I loved Prince Philip like he was my grandfather. I cried tears of blood when he died, and penned him a poem.
So why did I love the Iron Duke? Who was he to me? He was the man who made my Daddy rich, paid him all the money. Daddy never had a job, but behold he always went to Harare and came back with a suitcase of money. Daddy had hundreds of servants, the Chief always had money, but alas he never worked and no one ever knew his source of money.
But one day Daddy whispered to me, “Tell my story mwanangu, but only when I am gone kure kure.”
Now I am going to be really random, but since the dots are connected, and since Samantha Markle blocked me on Twitter and shared my private messages to her to many people, I am so going to release the letter Thomas Markle wrote me…
Why did Thomas write me a letter when Daddy died, because he felt guilty, secretly he knew Daddy, and that one day he would have to say sorry to me…
Oh call me MAD my readers, call me mad I beg, but I am the girl with the gift, and a gift tells hidden mystr8ies…
Dear Jean ,Samantha ( I call her Babe since she was born) told me all about you and all the kind things you have said about me and I just wanted to thankyou, and most of all I want to tell you how sorry I am when I heard you lost your father!I offer my condolence and prayers and I know thats little consalation for your loss, but Babe said he was is a jazz musician and I am sure your father and I would have been the best of friends .My first 5 years in Chicago television every week I did jazz shows from Art Hodes to BB King and everyone in between, so I love the freedom of jazz music and all the people who play it and I know in my heart that your father is still playing somewhere, jazz never dies . I wish I had met you father and someday I might ? But until that time comes for me ? I join with you to celebrate his life and his music! So, please write me back and tell me more about your dad and his music .Thankyou again for your kind words, sending my love to you and your family .Sincerely Thomas
Oh and by the way, I so love a certain You Tuber called Yanke Wally, and Sammantha Markle had the cheek to send her my private messages…
I love you Yanke Wally, I forgive you, but will never forgive Sammantha…
And to end my essay, I have recently split from my Lord husband, the King of the North, he never allowed me to drink wine or wear necklaces or pagan rings, and never allowed me false nails, so I will end this by showing pictures of me last night, to piss of my Lord husband, celebrating being finally free…
The Genesis of the Revelation
Mary-Tamar was Jean
