greetings brethrens.

its a beautiful day in de name of de most high Gawd,today marks de moment when de man formerly known as game would like to post his last for all malawians on de forum to relate to.dem hafi kno mi now as de one true soldier of his majesty ras tafari.seen all ya bin arguin over small little tings.callin unoos mama names and papa names in de most heathen way fi de black mon.wherever ya bin an live,wheda its america or de UK remember de motherland and ethiopia,dem hafi not get caught up in de mix in a white man land.mama africa beckons for all ya to return one day.

in de name of his emperial majesty fi now bid thee farewell and may jah and jesus sellasie be wit u in all endeavours so unoo fi prosper.




Behold, the lion of the tribe of Judah hath prevailed.

"...[o]nly in the kebra nagast, and not in the bible...the bold assertion is made...that the ark had gone from jerusalem to ethiopia."..."[h]ow could the most important biblical object in the world end up in the heart of africa...? the kebra nagast...with a great deal of weight and historical authenticity...offers a clear answer to this question...as ethiopia's claim to be the last resting place of the lost ark remains unchallenged..."..."[t]he kebra nagast's audacious claim of a massive cover-up...[and]all information about the tragic loss of the ark during solomon's reign had been suppressed,which is why no mention is made of it in the scriptures."..."a great epic...a remarkable document...erected above a solid foundation of historical truth."

Rastafari is a movement of Black people who know Africa as the birthplace of Mankind and the throne of Emperor Haile Selassie I -- a 20th Century Manifestation of God who has lighted our pathway towards righteousness, and is therefore worthy of reverence. The Rastafari movement grew out of the darkest depression that the descendants of African slaves in Jamaica have ever lived in -- the stink and crumbling shacks of zinc and cardboard that the tattered remnants of humanity built on the rotting garbage of the dreadful Dungle on Kingston's waterfront. Out of this filth and slime arose a sentiment so pure, so without anger, so full of love, the Philosophy of the Rastafari faith. It was a flower in a pigsty, watered by the nourishment of the Prophet Marcus Garvey, swayed by the wind of local political change, and cherished by the Black man's long witheld desire to hold his head upright. Freedom of Spirit, Freedom from Slavery, and Freedom of Africa, was its cry.