Introducing the Official Trailer for The Black Hand of God.

Hey Everyone! Check out the BRAND NEW official trailer for The Black Hand of God!

NEW INTERVIEW: “5 Minutes, 5 Questions” with Joey Pinkney on The Black Hand of God

Hey Good People, hope everyone is enjoying their Friday and looking forward to the weekend.

I, for one, am happy to kick mine off with even more positive support and reinforcement for The Black Hand of God – this time from a brother I very much admire, Award-winning author and book reviewer Joey Pinkney. Here’s an excerpt:

A groundbreaking look at the history of Christianity, Black Feminism and the African-American Church, The Black Hand of God (The Marked, LLC, 2009) explores the teachings and convictions of Dona Beatriz Kimpa Vita – founder of the first Black Christian movement in sub-Saharan Africa whose contributions – shamefully – too few are aware of.

Told through the narrative of a man embarking on his own personal spiritual journey, the book highlights Kimpa Vita’s efforts to free and protect her people from physical and spiritual enslavement.

Joey Pinkney: Where did you get the inspiration to write The Black Hand of God?

R. S. Basi: What really inspired me was the almost complete dearth of information in the public realm about what could and should be a highly celebrated life. The more I learned more about Kimpa Vita’s story and the impact she’s had on world history, the more I came to realize just how important it was, and is, for people to know about this amazing woman.

Visit here to check out the entire interview!

BECOME OUR 500TH FACEBOOK FAN AND WIN A FREE COPY OF THE BOOK PLUS A $25 AMAZON GIFT CARD!

Hey Good Folk!

Check us out on Facebook and join the official Fan Page for “The Black Hand of God!” The 500th fan will receive a free autographed copy of the book, PLUS a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Black-Hand-Of-God/181538661884338?ref=sgm

Peace,
R.S.

BRAND NEW WEBSITE FOR “THE BLACK HAND OF GOD” OFFICIALLY LAUNCHED!

Peace Everyone!

I apologize for the brief hiatus – but things have been kicking off tremendously so a lot has been happening behind the scenes. However, I’m excited to announce that the new website for The Black Hand of God has officially re-launched! What an amazing accomplishment this is, you’ve no idea

Thank you to everyone who’s stuck with us these past couple of weeks. I promise more updates on the book, latest news and other current events dedicated to issues that spread awareness and advance the condition of my African brothers and sisters across the Diaspora.

In the meantime, let us know what you think of the new site!

Love & Light,
-R.S.

Interview with Cyrus Webb’s “Conversations Live!” about The Black Hand of God

Hey Folks,

Check out this interview I gave with Cyrus Webb on his show “Conversations Live!” about The Black Hand of God, my motivation behind writing it, and why Kimpa Vita’s story deserves to be told.

-R.S.

FEATURED BLOG POST #1: “African American Women are invisible”

In this section, I’ll be showcasing some highlights from the blogosphere that deal with related topics of interest. To kick things of, check out this excerpt from a great post over at TheBlackBot.com:

A study from Psychology Today stated that AA women are “invisible.” Not only are we not noticed, and people have difficulty remembering our faces; but they also do not pay attention to what we say. They think that we are interchangeable with other AA women. Of course, we already knew that. The television tells us everyday, “We won’t acknowledge you unless you look white.” While we see male AA characters who actually look as if they are of African descent, virtually all female AA characters are subject to a paper bag test. Women who look Hispanic, mixed, or white with a perm are cast in our roles.

You can read the first of the piece HERE.

-R.S.

Saturday Sneak Peek: Chapter II of “The Black Hand of God.”

Peace & Blessings,

If you’re on the East Coast like me, you’re probably looking for every reason available not to venture out in these arctic temperatures. So for you, and anyone else just looking for a good read on a quiet Saturday afternoon, here’s another glimpse into The Black Hand of God – Chapter 2.

Dehydrated and stiff from the cool nights, we were all
stretched to the point of delirium. It was a challenge to keep either
hidden or quiet. Since a spear had gone into my knee some years
back, I found it difficult to maintain a single position for any length
of time. Indeed, my torso twisted occasionally on the dry leaves of
the forest floor, sending a warning to those who might have been
listening.

I looked around at my fellow warriors. The years showed on
our faces and in our hearts. We missed our homes and families and
fields and wished for more of the young soldiers who should have
been there in numbers that allowed our retirement from battle. As
these forays came more frequently, each departure meant leaving
our lives farther behind and dreaming firmer into nostalgia. My
ritual of glancing back along the trail to the fields I had worked and
the thatch my hands had tightened for what I knew might be the last
time meant those images lingered like ghosts in my thoughts and in
my sleep.

Over seventy of us sat hidden as statues that morning. An
arc of branches hid us among the foliage of the market’s edge.
Indifferent, birds sang their usual songs. Even the river paid us no
heed. Market traders had profit and business on their minds.
Customers thought only of food or the many domestic chores to
manage. They were not mindful of politics or security or the
relentless march of armies.

Soon the sun stood high overhead and no clouds tempered
its fury. I was drawn for a moment to the sound of two children
splashing in a nearly dry pool of water and how it made my mouth
feel. I saw a fleeting vision of me playing in the dead bends of the
river near the village where I was born as monkeys chattered
overhead. I remembered for a moment the joy we felt in those days
and at that place which, for me, was the heart of everything. My
brother and I, before he drowned in the river, loved the water. Love
turns easily to fear and even hatred. Then I heard screams.

“Lukangu!” Freedom. Our battle cry. Our belief. Our
salvation.