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D' Artist Fraulein was born and raised in the tropical island of the Philippines. Her work is an expressionistic portrayal of the rich and vibrant colors of the sceneries she grew up with. Her hand in painting was honed at an early age. She used her numerous awards to fund her art materials and develop a beguiling hobby. To confirm her self-acquired knowledge in arts, Fraulein studied at the Art Instruction Schools of Minneapolis in Minnesota where she received a Blue Ribbon Award for the Most Outstanding Achievement and Top Student of the class (February 2003). Her versatility and creativity ranges from charcoal or pencil portrait, to ink as well as paintings, attracts clients and landscape enthusiasts. Her dreamlike...
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Paisley Painting is a family owned and run business proud to serve residents of all of Central Florida. We never hire subcontracts because the pros at Paisley Painting in Oviedo, FL pride themselves in customer service, which is why happy customers are our #1 priority. With over 20 years experience in the field, our expertise is unrivaled by their competition. Our previous clients rave about our high quality work and our dedication to professionalism.
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text: Animated Timer-Premiere Pro Tutorial Posted byAshley WeltonNovember 26, 2019Posted inUncategorizedTags:adobe tutorial, graphic artist, graphic design, graphic designer, howto, premiere pro, tutorial, video Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Related Published by Ashley Welton Freelance Graphic Designer based in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania. I enjoy creating digital art, illustrations and photography. I also enjoy hiking, birding, cooking, reading, traveling and a nice bourbon or two. View more posts


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Nigar Jamal confesses to "The Sun": I wanted to do X-Factor instead of Eurovision
23 May 2011 [18:56] -
EUROVISION winner Nikki Jamal (Nigar Jamal) nearly didn't enter the contest, - because she wanted to be on The X Factor instead. But the 30-year-old Azerbaijan beauty narrowly missed the ITV1 show's deadline.
"I thought I was so unlucky," said North London-based mum-of-two Nikki - pictured with her husband Haluk and five-year-old daughter Jasmin. "I love The X Factor. I wanted to enter it and win so badly."
But then, while visiting her parents in Azerbaijan, she was persuaded to compete in the Eurovision heats with 21-year-old Eldar Gasimov.
Now she is mobbed as a celebrity in the former Soviet republic on the Caspian Sea, after they won the contest with their song Running Scared in front of 150 million viewers worldwide.
One thousand people turned up at an airport to welcome them home.
Nikki said: "Maybe it was fate that I missed out on The X Factor. But I love Simon Cowell. He always tells the truth. That's what I like about him. And Cheryl Cole is my favourite singer. I'd love to be like her."
"A few months ago I was a housewife - now I'm the winner of Eurovision. It is my biggest dream. But I don't feel like a superstar or anything special."
/The Sun/
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05 July 2020 [10:00]
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Fishman (wrestler)
Jump to navigation Jump to search
|Birth name
|José Ángel Nájera Sánchez
|January 6, 1951
Torreón, Coahuila, Mexico
|April 8, 2017 (aged 66)
Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua, Mexico
|María Dolores González (ex-wife)
|Black Fish (son)
El Hijo del Fishman (son)
|Professional wrestling career
|Ring name(s)
|Goliath Reyes
|Billed height
|1.73 m (5 ft 8 in)
|Trained by
|Marco Tulio
Bulldog Villegas
El Rebelde
Sunny War Cloud
|November 1969
José Ángel Nájera Sánchez (January 6, 1951 – April 8, 2017) was a Mexican luchador or professional wrestler best known under the ring name Fishman.
Fishman was one of the top wrestlers in the mid-1970s and 1980s and has worked for Empresa Mexicana de Lucha Libre, the Universal Wrestling Association, the World Wrestling Association and Asistencia Asesoría y Administración in Mexico as well as frequent trips to Japan and the United States.
Nájera was unmasked after losing a match in 2000 and retired shortly afterwards. Three of his sons are all luchadors enmascarados (masked wrestlers) known by their ring names Black Fish, El Hijo del Fishman and El Único de Ciudad Juárez.
Nájera died on April 8, 2017 of a heart attack.[1]
References[change | change source]
- ↑ Ocampo, Ernesto (April 8, 2017). "Falleció el látigo lagunero: Descanse en paz Fishman". Súper Luchas (in Spanish). Retrieved April 8, 2017.


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Tucked away in the desirable Majestic Oaks neighborhood, this spacious 3 bed, 2.5 bath home has an inviting floor plan with hardwood floors throughout and plenty of natural light. The first floor is perfect for entertaining with a spacious living room with a gas fireplace and a separate dining room. The open eat-in kitchen features butcher block countertops, stainless steel appliances, a farmhouse sink and bay window overlooking the lovely yard. Off of the kitchen, step out to the screened-in porch, patio for grilling and spacious fenced backyard with a fire pit and outdoor dining area. On the second floor, the master suite has vaulted ceilings and an en suite bath with a double vanity, separate tub and shower and walk-in closet. There are two other spacious bedrooms on this level with a great deal of storage. A sizable driveway and attached two-car garage complete this wonderful property. Seaside Plantation is a well-established neighborhood on James Island, with amenities including a lake, play park and dock facilities. Conveniently located near shopping, dining, Folly Beach, and just a short drive to Historic Downtown Charleston, this home truly has it all in a family-friendly neighborhood.
21 - James Island
Boat Ramp, Dock Facilities, Play Park
Ceilings - 9'+, Window Treatments - All, Ceiling - Cathedral/Vaulted, Kitchen Island
Wood F/encl, Patio, Screen Porch, Porch - Front Porch
4 Bed, 3 Bath, 1952 Sqft, 0.19 AcresSeaside PlantationCharleston, SC
4 Bed, 3 Bath, 2438 Sqft, 0.14 AcresWexford SoundCharleston, SC
4 Bed, 3 Bath, 2073 Sqft, 0.17 AcresWexford SoundCharleston, SC
4 Bed, 3 Bath, 1848 Sqft, 0.36 AcresStonefieldJames Island, SC
3 Bed, 2 Bath, 1536 Sqft, 0.2 AcresWestchesterCharleston, SC
3 Bed, 2 Bath, 1266 Sqft, 0.15 AcresEgrets PointeCharleston, SC
3 Bed, 3 Bath, 1970 Sqft, 0.22 AcresSeaside PlantationCharleston, SC
3 Bed, 3 Bath, 2000 Sqft, 0.17 AcresSeaside PlantationCharleston, SC
4 Bed, 3 Bath, 2216 Sqft, 0.17 AcresSeaside PlantationCharleston, SC
4 Bed, 3 Bath, 2578 Sqft, 0.18 AcresSeaside PlantationCharleston, SC
3 Bed, 3 Bath, 1616 Sqft, 0.1 AcresStonefieldCharleston, SC
3 Bed, 2 Bath, 1386 Sqft, 0.15 AcresSeaside PlantationCharleston, SC
The data relating to real estate for sale on this web site comes in part from the Broker ReciprocitySM Program of the Charleston Trident Multiple Listing Service. Real estate listings held by brokerage firms other than Carolina One Real Estate are marked with the Broker ReciprocitySM logo or the Broker ReciprocitySM thumbnail logo (a little black house) and detailed information about them includes the name of the listing brokers.
The broker providing these data believes them to be correct, but advises interested parties to confirm them before relying on them in a purchase decision.
Copyright 2020 Charleston Trident Multiple Listing Service, Inc. All rights reserved.


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Author(s): Alan Warner
Here is about the elsewhere at home. With insightful new work fromTheresa Breslin, Ali Smith, Alasdair Gray and Miguel Syjuco,Here moves between countries and continents, through families and unlikely encounters to find hope and reconciliation.
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Mixed Martial Arts
Mark Sangiao, Team Lakay look to recover lost belts
When the smoke clears and the world returns to normal, it will be back to the drawing board for Team Lakay in ONE Championship.
Though their focus is now on combating the pandemic that is COVID-19, head coach Mark Sangiao has not forgotten his plans to reclaim the World Titles they lost.
In 2018, the team won four World Titles, with Eduard "Landslide" Folayang, Geje "Gravity" Eustaquio, Kevin "The Silencer" Belingon, and Joshua "The Passion" Pacio each ruling their respective divisions.
Now, only Pacio remains the lone World Champion from the camp. Still, based on their performances this year, bringing back the belts they lost is a possibility.
"The plan moving forward is to keep on winning, work on their weakness; become more rounded so there's no weakness in them, whether that be on the ground or with wrestling," Sangiao said.
"We want them to be complete because we want all the belts back that we lost."
Sangiao is hopeful that this is the year where Danny "The King" Kingad gets his breakthrough after an excellent run in the recent ONE Flyweight World Grand Prix.
He is also looking at Belingon and Folayang to regain their belts, and while that path will not be easy to walk, Sangiao is confident in his athletes.
"We want Danny to win it. As much as possible I am also hoping for Kevin's resurgence and maybe Eduard can get his belt back as well."
For the team to reach their destination, Sangiao knows that he has to be on top of his game as a coach as well.
The 41-year-old mentor knows that they have the skills to compete against any other athlete in the world. Now, he is all about making sure they are well-equipped when they return to the ONE Circle.
"We have to make sure that we keep on learning, that we're not stagnant, that each day we learn new things. It's also about making sure that they are prepared, both physically and mentally," Sangiao said.
"If we identify what these athletes need, then we're in good shape. After all, they're the ones competing in there."
Catch all the ONE Championship action live and for free by downloading the ONE Super App.
Read More From ONE Championship:
Team Lakay Confident About Return To Glory Days
Young Stars Pacio & Kingad Leading Team Lakay's New Generation
Team Lakay THROWS DOWN In "Teammate Quiz"


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6.2 oz Scented Candle
Item #544245
In Stock & Ready to Ship!
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available for orders over $ 35.00Add To Cart
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CHILDREN and adults at the #AnakAnak Malaysia Walk 2018 will get to enjoy Koko Yoyo gummies as its manufacturer is sponsoring the event for the first time.
Koko Yoyo Vita-C gummies combine gummy bear shapes with nutritional vitamin C content.
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text:
2012 Jeanneau Merry Fisher 645
- Description
- View Full Specifications
New arrival
- Year:
- 2012
- Length:
- 22'
- Engine/Fuel Type:
- Single / Gas/Petrol
- Located In:
- Lymington, Hampshire, United Kingdom
- Hull Material:
- Fiberglass
- 74542-3683608
- Current Price:
- £ 26,000 Tax Paid (US$ 32,796)
- Sale Pending
Jeanneau Merry Fisher 645 serviced and antifouled June 2020. Ready to go for the Summer.
Suzuki DF115 TL serviced by a main dealer all paper work to hand. Just 148 hours from new! Fresh water flush after use. Very clean and tidy example of this ever popular boat. Lots of up grades and extras. Lowrance combo HDS-7 with P79 transducer and sonic hub, Nav lights, Port wiper, Wheel house curtains, sun awning, aft closing kit, anchor, chain, fenders.... Used as a day boat not fishing so immaculate! Call Adam Baker for details.
Please contact Adam Baker at +44 (0)1202 842439
Additional Specs, Equipment and Information:
Builder: Jeanneau
Designer: Centkowski and Denert Design
Hull Shape: Modified Vee
LOA: 22 ft 0 in
Beam: 8 ft 5 in
Maximum Draft: 1 ft 10 in
Total Power: 115 HP
Engine 1:
Engine Brand: Suzuki
Year Built: 2012
Engine Model: DF115 TL
Engine Type: Outboard
Engine/Fuel Type: Gas/Petrol
Location: Center
Engine Hours: 148
Engine Power: 115 HP
Fresh Water Tanks: 1 Plastic (20 Liters)
Fuel Tanks: 1 Plastic (136 Liters)
Number of single berths: 2
Number of double berths: 1
Number of heads: 1
Convertible Saloon
Inside Equipment
Electric bilge pump
Chemical head
Outside Equipment/Extras
Cockpit cushions
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Swimming ladder
Cockpit cover
The Company offers the details of this vessel in good faith but cannot guarantee or warrant the accuracy of this information nor warrant the condition of the vessel. A buyer should instruct his agents, or his surveyors, to investigate such details as the buyer desires validated. This vessel is offered subject to prior sale, price change, or withdrawal without notice.
Visit Website


text:
// 28.03.2011
Thank you again for the great trip from Marrakech to Zagora. While I would have loved to have spent more time in Morocco, the "A Little Majesty in Zagora" was perfect for my schedule. This trip provided me the opportunity to see the Moroccan countryside, eat at some local restaurants and spend a night in the desert. As well, Said is great driver and guide.
All the best
Gary Bennewies


text:
Athletic: Garitano works with groups of 13 players
AthleticTOLekue receives physical therapy treatment and Guruzeta is not on the list offered by the club
LAthletic's first squad continuestaking steps in his preparation for the remainder of the League. The lions, who will exercise daily until Saturday, already work in groups of 13 soccer players. The team enters a new phase: from May 10 to 16 the training sessions were individual, with a maximum of six players on the field; from 18 to 23 the work included groups of up to 10 footballers and this Monday work has begun for a maximum of 14 members.
Garitano has disposed ofall the footballers who passed the PCR tests the first days of May with the exception of Aduriz, who has been out of the dynamics of the staff since he announced his retirement last week when he had to undergo a hip surgery;Lekue, injured with a moderate-severe ankle sprainand Guruzeta, absence for which no official communication has been made. Lekue, after resting for 48 hours, has come to the facilities to receive physical therapy and rehabilitation treatment.
Still training in two different rounds, the footballers have been distributed as follows. Herrern, Oleaga, Balenziaga, Iigo Martnez, Yeray, De Marcos, Dani Garca, Unai López, Sancet, Williams, Villalibre, Ral Garca and Crdoba have participated in the most early group. Mid morning, those who have jumped into the field have been Simn, Ezkieta, Yuri, Vivian, Nez, Capa, San Jos, Vesga, Beat, Larrazabal, Ibai, Kenan Kodro and Muniain.


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MATHARE FUTURISM: From Beggars to Masters of Our Own Fate
Allow me the joy of teaching you a new word today. The word is 'duru'. Most of my millennial peers, where I come from, have an extensive grasp of what it means. It is simply the art of approaching a stranger, after careful analysis, wearing a sunken face then stretching your hand to them the same way a customer does when asking for their change. I am emphatic about calling it an art, since it is a skill that requires a lot of practice and experience. Mothers and aunts are the best teachers for this skill set. At least that is how it was set up for my family and many other families within my community as I grew up. Every morning, my cousins and I would be woken up very early to go and beg in the streets of Pangani shopping center and around the Pangani mosque, in the company of our unemployed aunts. They would carefully discern potential targets from afar then tell us to wear 'the face' as we made our approach. Stretching of the hands was supposed to be followed closely by the words:
"Anko saidiaa, saidiaa anko …!"
"Help me uncle, uncle please help …!"
It was the surest way to solicit for a few much-needed coins out of a random stranger's pocket.
For some reason, these tactics had a fair success rate in that we would go back home with quite some cash for food and a few other amenities. Even so, the kid who would manage to bring home the biggest share was rewarded with little favours here and there. Naturally, as naive as we were, we would get jealous and try 'working' to earn the extra perks of our labour. This was way before most of us even got an opportunity to join school. At the time, I was a mere 3-year-old boy with the whole world before me. So yes, I was learning how to be a professional beggar before I studied ABC!
You do not have much of a choice when you are under the care of a young single mother in Mathare, who works as a casual labourer at City Park market in Parklands. What mum and her cronies would do was get hired to wash sack after sack of muddy potatoes, upon arrival in lorries from the farm. However, the job was barely assured so she preferred not to put all her eggs in a single basket. Begging was the most plausible alternative then. At the end of the day, all that mattered was some food on the table.
The bulk of the population consisting my age-mates in Mathare can be distinguished by this common denominator. A history of begging and absolute dependency. As a matter of fact, thousands of us only made it to school when Missions Of Hope International (MOHI), a charity NGO, moved in to our community, offering free education, a feeding program and, get this, spiritual nourishment. Parents could not afford the thought of missing a spot for their children. That is how most of us were lucky to leave the streets. It became a major relief to our mothers and fathers across the village.
I was four-years-old when I joined nursery school at MOHI. Now more kids were accessing primary and secondary education with much ease and this brought about a different wave of energy that was unheard of. Before that, the number of people I knew who had made it beyond primary school was countable! With time, however, more and more organizations were set up around us, attempting to address various issues from HIV/AIDS awareness to women empowerment, to food insecurity and so on, a good number of which were briefcase outfits obviously erected to siphon off grant money or as vehicles to dodge tax. This is the thing about the dark side of charity; It offers as much instant gratification to the giver as it does the receiver, but its implications can be grisly. What this missionary zeal was doing therefore, was give the impression of filling up the vacuum created by a retreating state. And they were. Clearly, the state had completely abdicated its traditional duty and continues to neglect these marginalized urban areas.
Now from the inside looking out, I cannot help but feel like these NGOs have over the years crippled my generation and community at large in materially consequential ways. Their real contribution has been to defuse political anger and dole out as aid or benevolence what people ought to have by right. In the process, they have cushioned the people's angst and altered public psyche, blunting the edges of political consciousness and resistance. We have been moulded into a voiceless generation of dependent victims, constantly awaiting outward help to change our circumstances. We have ended up becoming an NGO-ized generation who society prefers to label as lazy and entitled.
In view of the current economic order and political landscape, it has been hypernormalised for young people to be educated yet unemployed, violated and silenced. It even gets worse in Mathare where young people are profiled and victimized every other day without their voices being heard. It is a war that the state seems hell bent on waging against this generation. The very state that has neglected us and hushed our attempts at speaking up. In his article, "Extra Judicial Killings in Nairobi and Community Based Response", Brice Jacquemin (a Belgian masters research student I met in January 2018) argues that the police do not perform police work, rather are a force of social control. They play out the role of the 'reasonable' man in an unfair, unreasonable war. I realize that it is easy to twist that statement into an indictment of all the police. That would be a falsehood. In the murky waters of brutal corrupt urban policing, of course there are a few of those doing some valuable work. I mean, the police force is also an institution faced with a myriad of issues such as inadequate funding, repression and so forth. But it is necessary to shift our attention slightly further away from positive work done by a few individual policemen, and examine the policing culture from a much broader political context.
Mathare is surrounded and socially controlled by an unmitigated force, the legacy of colonial institutional omnipresence – You find police stations at every entrance into Mathare Valley; Pangani Police Station to the west, Muthaiga Police Station to the north, Huruma Police Station to the east and the Moi Airbase military barracks to the south. According to a participatory action report documented and launched by the Mathare Social Justice Centre (MSJC), between 2013 and 2016, the police killed 800 young people in Mathare.
To survive our existential realities as the youth of Mathare, we have been forced to employ clever tactics on how to avoid any sort of foul encounter with the police. You are supposed to carry your national ID card every time you leave the house. Failure to provide the document when asked would mean sour negotiations that may lead to aimless harassment or even apprehension for apprehension's sake! Strangely enough, the most notorious killer cop is largely known here both by face and name yet no one dares say his name out in public without feeling of paranoia coursing through their body. It is as though he sees and hears everything. Most people believe he does. Imagine. No one man should have all that power – having an entire community on their knees.
In order to look out for each other therefore, we have had to invent a nickname for him. 'Mjamaa'. That way, everybody can say the name without raising tension, including women who are generally the first informers whenever he is around appearing in a nondescript Probox car. Mjamaa is notorious for causing mayhem in youth bases. One time he aimed his gun and shot at a sound system that was playing music during a funeral fundraising ceremony for a young man he had recently executed, disrupting it immediately and hurling countless insults, saying:
'thugs' deserve to die and to bury themselves after!
Movement is also limited in our very own neighbourhood. You cannot walk around freely at night: if you go out partying in the wee hours, you can only come back home at your own peril. In fact, for a young man in dreadlocks like myself, the risk is enormous! It is one of the main features used to profile us, among many other codes of dressing. According to the police, dressing a certain way only puts you in the guilty-until-proven-innocent category. Like there is a signature look for criminals. This includes wearing of shiny chains, certain shoes and caps. The reasoning behind it is alarmingly disturbing; the police are actually convinced that unemployed youth cannot afford to wear decent chains and shoes without committing some kind of crime. Why a simple hairstyle or stylish dress code is frequently used to profile 'suspected thugs' is way beyond me.
The police are predatory to us over here. All the incidents of abuse and immense brutality are devoid of any no trace of humanity whatsoever. They are the symbol of a society that thrives off victimizing an entire generation. A society that taught us how to beg, handing us scraps with zero opportunities, yet does not condemn injustice and their abject failure at governance.
Someone said to me that these social problems, the unending bureaucratic capitalism, neo-feudalism and imperialism will not be changed by reforms alone. Nor elections. That should social movements lack the dynamic of the youth, they are sure to die. I could not agree more. Part of how Mathare is treated is because of its disheveled environment. Because of this, a team of fellow young people I work with in the community came together and coined the term 'Mathare Futurism' which is basically imagining possible realities then ultimately working to design a new future for Mathare. Our approach is planting trees to not only green our environment, but also feed the community through fruit trees, provide natural sources of medicine through medicinal trees, make the community beautiful through ornamental flowers and commemorate the lives of those we have lost to extra judicial executions in Mathare by planting trees in their memory. This offers healing to a wounded people, family and friends of the victims.
We are the Mathare Green Movement (MGM) and what we are doing is applying different forms of advocacy to build consciousness in society. We use art, music, words and trees as our symbols of power. Trees are a symbol of regeneration and we intend to nurture our lives together with the community. A tree is the totem of resilience and its survival amidst forces working against its growth is illustrative of how we shall rise, eventually, and choose to cease being beggars but the masters of our own fate!
When We Lose Our Fear: A Saba Saba Day Reflection
On the 30th anniversary of the Saba Saba day, grassroots human rights defenders and allies held a protest and appeared in way that was not sanctioned by the authorities to confront state power and exercise their right to be seen and heard.
On the thirtieth anniversary of the massive pro-democracy Saba Saba day ( 7th July) demonstrations in Kenya, Tuesday's People's March began in the very places where state violence is still laid bare: Mathare, Kayole, Dandora, Kibera, and other informal settlements in Nairobi. From as early as 7AM that grey cold-season morning, human rights defenders at the Mathare Social Justice Centre (MSJC) and allies from the community began preparing for their march. They lined posters and banners along the front of the centre. They raised up large flags, one in each hand, and spun, watching the fabric billow. They tested loudspeakers. They sang and danced to protest music together.
Thirty years ago, hundreds of demonstrators flooded the city centre, led by a coalition of pro-democracy political leaders, to demand multi-party democracy and the end of authoritarian rule under President Daniel arap Moi. On Tuesday, grassroots human rights defenders organised a People's March—a leaderless event that was, on principle, neither branded and sponsored by any organisation, nor "approved" beforehand by authorities—to demand a set of basic human rights necessary to live a dignified life.
Ironically, in 1990, the first Saba Saba demonstration under Moi's dictatorship was able to at least get within the vicinity of the Kamukunji grounds, though it was eventually met with lethal police force. This time in 2020, before demonstrators were able to even leave Mathare, Dandora, Kibera, Kayole, and other meeting places, clots of police officers had already begun blocking their passage and arresting leading organisers. Only minutes after demonstrators at the Mathare Social Justice Centre began singing, police shot tear gas at them.
After the inaugural plumes of tear gas cleared from the front of MSJC, Mama Victor walked up to me, gave me a long embrace, looked to where the police were gathered, and abruptly said, "I'm going there to take tea."
Mama Victor has a face like calm waters, smooth and serene like one of Picasso's monumental women. Like the other members of the Network of Mothers and Widows of Victims and Survivors who had gathered at MSJC to participate in the march, she wore a white gown over her clothes, like those for baptisms. Written on the front of all of the gowns were the names of loved ones killed by police. She clenched in her hand the poster she had intended to march with: a large photograph of a young man, with the words "Victor Okoth Obondo. 1994-2017."
Three years ago, Mama Victor lost both of her sons on the same day. It was August 9, 2017, when post-election unrest led to violent police crackdowns in informal settlements across the country. Victor, 22, and Bernard, 25—the son of her deceased sister, whom she raised as her own—were on their way home to Mathare when they were caught up in protests contesting election results. Police shot live bullets. Bernard was shot in the head and died instantly; Victor was shot in the stomach and died before he reached the hospital.
At the time, Mama Victor's shock and grief was forced into the confines of a politically charged election. Victor and Bernard's burials had to be rushed, but, in her account to journalist Isaac Otidi Amuke, she says she was "fortunate" to even have that. Other mothers, grandmothers, widows, and relatives, are often denied the "privilege to mourn," as people can be arrested for even holding vigil for those killed by police.
"In the beginning, I would just wake up, see the photo of my sons, and cry," she says. But as the once-searing pain subsided with time, she realized that it was only people like her who could sit with other mothers of victims and "share the pain we feel." So she and a few other core members formed the Network of Mothers and Widows of Victims and Survivors.
The word "activist," and the cynicism around it, often obscures the fact that some like Mama Victor never chose to be activists. Rather, it was the decision of some police officers sent to control "riots" on August 9, 2017 to pull the trigger—and Mama Victor's refusal to accept impunity as an answer—that has landed her here. Taking tea in front of police officers on Saba Saba day.
Right off of the main road where over a dozen police officers were gathered, behind a kiosk selling medicinal herbs, was a breakfast kibanda. Mama Victor sat down on the mbao-bench to take chai and chapati. On the bench next to her, she set down the poster of Victor and another poster of Yassin Moyo, the 13-year-old boy who was shot in Kiamaiko on March 30 by police enforcing curfew, while he stood on the balcony of his family's house.
Almost immediately, two policeman approach Mama Victor. They ask her what she is doing, and she says drily that she is taking tea. One orders her to get up and leave. "I can't," she says, "because I am taking tea." They say no "gatherings" are allowed here—referring to the protest songs that had just been silenced by tear gas—and once again she says she is not gathering anything, she is just taking tea.
The humiliating interrogation continues. One officer asks her why she is wearing white, to which she responds that those are her clothes. He sees her facemask, draped loose on her neck, and with his wooden baton, prods at the human rights logo printed on it: "What is this?" Even with his stick pointed at her neck, Mama Victor didn't let her chin drop. She raises her voice and reaffirms that she is not doing anything wrong by wearing her own clothes and drinking tea. She takes two cups and pours the hot, milky tea from one cup into the other, in a long, white cascade, to cool it.
Mama Victor is not naive about dealing with the police. As a human rights defender at MSJC, she collects evidence to document police brutality in Mathare, which means that, like other grassroots organizers unprotected by international institutions, in the past, she has received threats from anonymous callers and been followed for days by strange men. If she talks back to police, it is not because she believes she is untouchable.
One police officer orders Mama Victor to remove the white robe and throw away the posters of Victor and Yassin. A crowd gathers around this image of a thousand words: a policeman with his stick, standing above a woman seated on a wooden bench, trying to take her breakfast. Mama Victor refuses to throw away the posters and, her shouts reaching a fever pitch, she points to the poster of Victor on the bench next to her and asks the wrenching, simple question: "Can I not even take tea here with my child?"
Despite the fact that the state has already heaped layers of violence on this woman—murdering her sons, denying her justice, leaving her to solve her own children's murders, plus the baseline systemic neglect that Mathare and other informal settlements suffer—the state has denied Mama Victor the dignity of even appearing before the Kenyan public by choking the Saba Saba day demonstration before it started.
They cannot, however, strip away the eternal truth that she is—and always will be—Mama Victor. Victor Okoth Obondo, frozen forever in that crouch, his arm resting on his knee, with a cool, easy smile. Her baby.
Mama Victor grabs the poster and, breaking into a flow of Dholuo, speaks straight to Victor. "Victor, you were so handsome, everyone said. You were kind, hard-working. We shouldn't have come to Nairobi. Perhaps if we were home…." Another woman in the back begins to wail, and the police slink away.
In The Appearance of Black Lives Matter, visual activist Nicholas Mirzoeff writes that for Black people in 2014's BLM protests to show up in the way they did was for them to "appear as Black in a way that is not codified by white supremacy." To "appear," he writes, is to confront state power that says, "Move along, nothing to see here," and to demand to be seen. To "appear" is to be grievable, worth grieving, and to force others to look.
All of the grassroots human rights defenders and allies who weren't already arrested by 10AM and furtively hopped onto matatus into town, knowing that scores of police would be waiting for them there too, understood this. They rejected the idea that a demonstration could possibly be first approved by the government, and they claimed—as victims of structural violence themselves—their right to "appear."
Human rights defenders on Tuesday's Saba Saba day, knew that Kenya's comfortable class is not ignorant of plight of the poor but, rather, chooses to ignore it. Like Black civil rights activists of the U.S. in the 1960s, they knew that the most powerful message would have to be communicated through the medium of their own bodies: kneeling together, unfazed and fists up, within a storm of tear gas, or proclaiming "Whatever happens, I am not afraid" while being dragged by officers into the boot of a car.
It worked. Photographs and videos from Tuesday show the full, militarized force of the state concentrated onto the unarmed, vulnerable bodies of the city's poorest, bodies which already bear the violence of living in districts with no water, going to bed hungry, loving people who were murdered by serial killer cops.
Mama Victor says that, when she reached the city centre, she was followed closely by several police officers—so closely that other organizers arranged for a cab to take her directly home. That is how much the state fears a middle-aged woman wearing white and holding a poster of her son, whose smile can never fade anymore. Even though the state had stripped Mama Victor of every other opportunity to express her grief and demand justice, the one they could not take away—her own self, the mother of two men they killed—is indeed the most powerful.
At first, this particular kind of protest seems like a paradox: how can leaning into one's vulnerability possibly be an expression of power? But if you think about it a bit more, it makes intuitive sense. In a widely shared video from Tuesday afternoon, MSJC co-founder Juliet Wanjiru Wanjira is cornered between two parked cars, surrounded by several armed police officers attempting to arrest her. Without flinching, she says she will not cooperate and asks them, "Why are you arresting me?"
One officer asks back, "Why are you protesting?"
"Because you're killing us!"
"Who is killing you?"
"You! Police!" The officer begins to walk away, and she continues: "You are killing us in our communities! Poor communities!" Both Wanjira and Mama Victor display no fear, and they lean into her identity as the victims of police violence in the face of police themselves.
The police leave Wanjira alone. She turns to those around her, throws her fist in the air, and shouts, "When we lose our fear, they lose their power!" Her courage doesn't come from the security of privilege, but rather defiance even in the face of her own vulnerability, as someone who faces the real risk of being disappeared or executed, a tragic fate that has met many other Kenyan human rights defenders.
Those with a lived experience of state violence have the most powerful things to say to the government. Indeed, even if they marched silently in town, their bodies would speak volumes. Perhaps that is what the state fears most—people who see not only their own scars but also see clearly who inflicted them. Perhaps that is why police coordinated so thoroughly to block demonstrators from even stepping foot on the road to the city centre.
This completely counters how certain newspapers reported the day's events: that the Saba Saba demonstrations were shut down, somehow failed, or didn't happen at all. Ultimately, the entire country witnessed the physical violence that police officers inflicted on peaceful protestors. But, more than that, they witnessed how this violence was doled out on people who already bore state violence within their own bodies.
People like Mama Victor, a living testament to the bloodied hands of the state. Her survival is resistance. Her dogged commitment to documenting extrajudicial killings is resistance. Her sitting down to take tea with her son in front of those who killed him—that, above all, is resistance.
Confronting Racism in the Shackles of a Miseducation
I cannot claim to have been a victim of the odious, brutal racism of the kind daily suffered by – predominantly – African American men in the United States. The racism I encountered during my time abroad was of the insidious kind, the kind that lets you in through the door and feigns to accept you as an equal while reminding you that "the hand that receives is always beneath the hand that gives."
Paysage avec homme nu dans la neige.
That was the title of the book and the subject of the exam.
Landscape with a naked man in the snow.
I cannot now remember the title of the course but I have kept the book and clearly remember the lecturer who taught it; a small, pasty-faced man with a balding pate and shifty black eyes. There we were, in his office on the second floor of the Faculty of Letters, Monsieur le Professeur behind his desk and me on the opposite side facing him, nervously ready to sit this oral exam. It started off well enough, my confidence growing as I responded to the lecturer's questions.
Then out of nowhere, like a violent slap across the face, his beady eyes boring into mine, came this: "Tell me Mademoiselle, naked white men fascinate you, don't they? Do you like the title of the book? What does it make you think of? You black people are really fascinated by us whites, aren't you?" I sat there utterly gobsmacked, unable to conjure up any sort of response, in outrage or even in pretense at a smart literary comeback. Then Monsieur le Professeur seemed to snap out of it, dismissing me with a peremptory Vous pouvez disposer!
I left his office and stopped to stare out through the large bay windows that overlooked the square below, too stunned to immediately leave the building and join the throngs of students lazing about in the summer sunshine. I felt sad, mad, sullied, impotent. I knew I could lodge a complaint but how would I frame it? With what words? There had only been the two of us in that office so it would be his word against mine. Also, I was the only black female student in my faculty that year so I had no one to compare notes with. And besides, I knew I had passed the exam; otherwise, as was the custom, Monsieur le Professeur would have informed me that I would be taking a re-sit come September. Why then would I start a fight I wasn't sure I could win?
Yet now I believe that this acquiescence, this doubting of self, this not fighting back, had been inculcated in me, and that I had internalised it well. I remember being in secondary school and the Mother Superior informing us that Africans were required to attend national celebrations at Uhuru Park. Africans. Not the Asians or the Europeans that were in class with me, many of whom were, at least from a citizenship point of view, as Kenyan as I am. Africans. Black. Everyone else stayed behind as we Black Africans made our way to Uhuru Park that day. We did not complain. I did not complain.
An Irish nun given to long digressions into her distant childhood in County Cork taught us African history. Apartheid and Bantustans came up, a map showing the various desolate locations to which black South Africans had been relegated pinned to the classroom wall. Yet I do not remember any sense of outrage on the part of the teacher. Or on the part of us students. Kenya's colonial history, with its native reserves, its racism and its violence, was certainly not taught. It was a time to forgive but never forget, we were constantly reminded, the not forgetting bit invoked as an after-thought, sotto voce.
And nor was Kenya's painful history invoked at home; we were not a political family by any measure. The parents worked and the children went to school and did what was expected of them. Only much later did it occur to me to wonder what it might mean for my family that my grandfather had been a chief in colonial times.
We learned to recite Shakespeare, and became intimate with the Mayor of Casterbridge; the English classics held no secrets for us. I fell in love with the language of love, taught to me by one Mrs Kiprono (why on earth would anyone study Swahili?) and flew off to take a degree in Romance Languages the minute I could. And thus did I come face to face with my miseducation.
I had been on campus a year, struggling to dominate the language of Molière, when the time came to renew my student residency permit, having done well enough to progress to second year. Of I went to the immigration desk of our local authority one October morning, joining a line of foreigners there for the same reason when, suddenly, up at the top of the queue, a young black man lost it. "What?! I am exploiting the Belgian taxpayer?! Do you know how long we Congolese suffered under your rule? Do you know that we built this country? Do you know what King Leopold did to us? Do you? Well, if you think I'm profiting from you I haven't even started yet Madame! I have come to repatriate what you took from me!". Apparently, the prim madam attending to the queue had questioned his motivation to remain in Belgium since he had failed his year but the young Congolese man was having none of it; he threw a monumental, show-stopping fit and got his residency renewed there and then. I had never witnessed anything of the sort before. I realised there was another whole history out there I knew nothing about.
That young man made me feel emboldened and when, some time later, a couple of cops jumped dramatically out of their patrol car in that neighbourhood of Brussels known as Matongé—on account of its numerous Congolese businesses—and barked, "papiers!", at Jean and I, clearly hoping that we were undocumented illegals, we laughed in their faces as we handed over our student IDs. A young female lecturer of African descent recently arrived at the department of history had me transfixed when she took on a white professor at an international students event. In his cravat, floppy hat and carefully cultivated air of the worldly dandy, the prof had been waxing lyrical about his time at the Université Lovanium in Congo-Kinshasa, practically working himself into a state of ecstasy at the recall of the beauty of Congolese women dancers during faculty parties. Her "je danse, donc je suis?", I dance, therefore I am?, abruptly put paid to that self-indulgent, paternalistic, walk down memory lane.
The scales had fallen from my eyes and I had come to the painful realisation that I had been lied to and that things were not as they seemed. I started reading properly, discovering the works of Cheikh Anta Diop and promoting them with the zeal of a recent convert, once eliciting the comment of a white friend that he would henceforth have to regard me in a totally different light, now that he was having to contemplate the notion that Africans had entire civilisations behind them. I was astounded.
A first full-time job after graduation brought me into the world of trade unions, a world where I expected that the rallying call—"Workers of the world, unite!"—excluded racists from the ranks of its diverse membership. That is until I found myself sitting between two Italian delegates to whom I was providing consecutive interpretation when a white speaker, referring to Namibians, ejaculated: "But these people are animals! You can't do anything with them!". (The man had a contract to undertake trade union education among the said "animals".) I could not translate that statement, did not know what to do with it even as the two Italians kept asking me, "What did he say? What did he say?". The meeting broke up in pandemonium.
I moved jobs a while later and found myself working under a Belgian director who liked to advance his reputation as a friend of Africa and Africans, holding court in his office through the doors of which hopeful African immigrés would flow, many met in the African nightclubs Monsieur le Directeur liked to frequent. Which did not dissuade him from treating very ill a young man to whom he had offered a job as his PR man, holding him by the contractual balls and giving them a squeeze every so often, just because he could. That young man eventually lost his job. And his mind. He was Congolese.
I cannot claim to have been a victim of the odious, brutal racism of the kind daily suffered by – predominantly – African American men in the United States. The racism I encountered during my time abroad was of the insidious kind, the kind that lets you in through the door and feigns to accept you as an equal while reminding you that "the hand that receives is always beneath the hand that gives", as one senior manager, a Frenchman, put it to staff to justify why African beneficiaries of international development cooperation largesse needn't expect to have their views taken into serious consideration in the execution of a project.
In the meantime, other books were published. Like King Leopold's Ghost, a quick primer on the brutality of the agents of King Leopold II in the Congo Free State. My heart went out to the Congolese after that one. Or the horrifyingly detailed Britain's Gulag, which at first I was unable to read to the end; the torture casually perpetrated in the Kenyan concentration camps by the colonists and their local collaborators was beyond anything I could bear to know. It took ten years for me to go back to that book, and to start asking questions about that time. I was shocked to learn from an aunt now in her early 70s that she knew of women who never did get married, could find no one to marry them, because they were daughters of known Ngati, the Kikuyu Home Guards that did the colonial government's dirty work.
There was still the question of my grandfather who had been a chief in those times. I loved and revered that man, and did not want to have to contemplate that he might have been a party to the suffering visited upon Kenyans by the colonial government and its craven collaborators. And so I did not probe. Then, quite by chance, I fell upon The Swords of Kĩrĩnyaga: the fight for land and freedom, a book written by H.K. Wachanga, a former freedom fighter and, in those pages, I learnt something about my grandfather that freed me from the fear that my family had been on the wrong side of Kenya's history.
[W]e met the Muhĩto Location Chief, Jeremiah Kĩnyua s/o Kĩru. He was a most unusual chief, because he had taken the second Mau Mau oath. He warned us that the government was searching for Kĩmathi, Mathenge and myself. He said Kimathĩ and Mathenge were to be tried for murder and that I was to be detained. He implored me to escape to Nairobi and hide there.
I learnt very recently from a contemporary of my grandfather's that his chieftaincy was short-lived. Jeremiah Kĩnyua son of Kiru would not commit exactions against his people, and eschewed violence and corruption. And so he was quietly removed, never again to hold public office, living a dignified life and dying an honourable death four years shy of his 100th birthday.
Covid Organics: Towards an African Renaissance
Following the outbreak of a pandemic in the city of Wuhan during a Chinese winter that will forever remain etched in the annals of history, Madagascar has been dramatically thrust to the fore on the international stage with its announcement of the development of a herbal remedy for COVID-19.
Unlike other former French colonies in Africa such as Benin, Cameroon, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Senegal and Mali that have been acclaimed for placing the continent on the world map musically, Madagascar is not known for its musical prowess. The country pales in comparison to Cape Verde, that tiny island in the Atlantic Ocean that produced the gifted voice of Cesária Évora, and gave birth to Amilcar Cabral, the anti-colonial revolutionary and theoretician. But with the outbreak of a pandemic in the city of Wuhan during a Chinese winter that will forever remain etched in the annals of history, Madagascar has been dramatically thrust to the fore on the international stage.
Madagascar caught the world's attention in April 2020 after announcing that it had made an extraordinary breakthrough in the field of (indigenous African) medicine. The Madagascar Institute of Applied Research (IMRA), which describes itself as "dedicated to biodiversity conservation and the discovery of drugs from natural products", announced the development of Covid Organics (CVO) from the artemisia plant. Promoted as an herbal remedy that prevents and cures those who have tested positive for COVID-19, the drug has caused a sensation in a continent that has been marginalised by an international scientific community that views Africa as a spectator rather than as a player. But let me put a few things into perspective.
Long before CVO, the island nation's flourishing plant life had been used for medicinal purposes, a tradition dating back to its pre-colonial days. The colonial epoch, however, disrupted this practice in order to introduce conventional medicine just like in other colonised African countries. In Madagascar, the practice was revived through the establishment of IMRA and deliberate emphasis was placed on the "value of plants in healing", confirmed by the scientific tradition of investigating their chemical compounds to improve their efficacy. Remarkably, this revival began in the late 1950s when most African countries were on the cusp of independence and self-rule, with Ghana taking the lead (in 1957), and Madagascar and others following from 1960 onwards.
Political independence and self-rule coincided with the need to reclaim old practices and traditions that had been suppressed in the colonial era. The COVID-19 herbal remedy which continues to elicit excitement is, therefore, part of a long and rich African tradition that has resisted erasure.
Covid Organics comes against the backdrop of other encouraging and bold African interventions to combat various diseases that have plagued the world in recent decades. Before COVID-19, another viral disease stalked parts of West and Central Africa, resulting in more than 10,000 deaths. First reported in the DRC and in present-day South Sudan in 1976, the fight against Ebola has over the decades underscored the importance of the active involvement of local populations in deploying indigenous knowledge and remedies. Not many Africans are aware of the indescribable bravery of Sheik Umar Khan, a Sierra Leonean virologist who helped scores of Ebola patients before succumbing to the virus. Very few have heard of Dr Matthew Lukwiya, a Ugandan doctor who generated a substantial body of knowledge in the fight against Ebola before falling victim to the disease.
These few examples arguably contest the pervasive idea that conventional medicine and, to a large extent, western intervention are the only antidotes to African problems. The paradox in all this is the economic impoverishment of Madagascar, Sierra Leone and Uganda where a majority of citizens still live below the poverty line as compared to, say, South Africa, Nigeria, Kenya and Egypt. There are, of course, other factors that explain the economic differences, but the most important point here is that innovation tends to occur where the need is greatest.
No one epitomises this innovative spirit more than IMRA founder, Prof Albert Rakoto, whose earlier studies on the artemisia plant have contributed immensely to the development of Covid Organics. (The research on Covid Organics has been falsely credited to Jérôme Munyangi, a Congolese researcher.) Rakoto's insistence on blending indigenous and conventional medicine is vital because it is likely to solve two problems with a single solution, retaining traditional medicine practices that are readily available within most African communities while adapting modern scientific trends to improve the effectiveness of plants such as artemisia in order to complement the strained healthcare infrastructure.
It is safe to say that so far Madagascar is reaping the benefits of its discovery if the coronavirus figures in the island nation are anything to go by. At the time of writing this article, the country had recorded 1,724 confirmed positive cases with only 15 deaths, and 732 recovered and discharged. The figures nearly mirror those of other former French colonies like Guinea Bissau and Equatorial Guinea which have reported under 20 deaths each so far, and are also the beneficiaries of the Covid Organics. Therefore, as the global pandemic continues to evolve, it will become increasingly foolhardy for the international scientific community to ignore this very interesting trend.
Recently, there have been thinly veiled attempts—mainly by western mainstream media outlets—to cast aspersions on the drug. Reuters described the herbal remedy as a "cure" , the quotation marks serving to cast doubts on the claims made by Madagascar about Covid Organics, while FRANCE24 brazenly and without batting an eyelid went ahead to call it "The president's controversial 'miracle cure'" in one of their news stories. Some of these problematic media framings go beyond the often false premise that nothing good can come out of Africa. Instead, they are part of a deliberate, but subtle ideological battle that persistently discredits anything African that might be of benefit to the world.
The use of the word "miracle" by FRANCE24 captures this vividly because it implies superstition – some irrational belief in the healing powers of the drug – instead of the deployment of homegrown science and logic in responding to a virus that has ravaged western countries more than any other part of the world. Some Africans have joined the fray in ridiculing the wonder drug, provoking a déjà vu moment reminiscent of Ocol's infamous lamentations to Lawino:
We will round up
All these priests
[…] And herbalists,
[…] Dealers in poisons
Extracted from plants
The leading proponent of the drug is Andry Rajoelina, the wiry-looking Malagasy president with his signature toothy smile. Before he ascended to power, the 46-year old was an event organiser. He has progressively become the poster boy for the drug, and more importantly, for the shaping and reimagining the course of the African Renaissance. Through various interviews granted to media platforms, Rajoelina continues to insist that nothing will stop the continent from devising homegrown solutions to respond to local and even global problems. His memorable rallying cry was expressed during a television session with FRANCE24 when he asked: "What if this remedy had been discovered by a European country, instead of Madagascar? Would people doubt it so much?"
Rajoelina is not the first African to challenge the institutionalised racism that has plagued people of colour the world over since the advent of European imperialism. Pioneer pan-African thinkers and philosophers like Marcus Garvey, W.E.B Dubois, Malcolm X and Frantz Fanon dedicated their lives to fighting racism in a world that had been designed to minimise the contributions of non-white peoples. Accordingly, how did one reconcile with the nightmare that Dubois called "double consciousness"? The "sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity" that currently informs the discourse on Covid Organics? Lately, Julius Malema, who leads South Africa's Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) party, has been at the forefront in challenging and questioning inherited ideas of self-doubt and inferiority complex that Rajoelina also now contends with. Malema, like Rajoelina today, has been a fierce proponent of Africa and has even called for the dismantling of colonial borders that prevent ease of movement and trade among Africans.
Despite not being geographically located on the African continent, Madagascar identifies as African, not just because of its significant Bantu population, but because of a growing continental pride, especially among the younger generation. In the last few years, the rise and rise of African music like afrobeats (West Africa), kizomba music (in lusophone countries), rumba (in Central Africa), bongo (in Tanzania) and gqom and amapiano (in South Africa) has galvanized young Africans to new forms of negotiating and asserting their racial and geographical identities within a globalised world.
Madagascar's development of a herbal remedy for COVID-19 has become an extension of this ongoing negotiation with identity that constantly invokes the slogans Africa Unite and I am proud to be African. Therefore, its location several kilometres further into the Indian Ocean has not dissuaded the Malagasy people from identifying with the pan-African goal of a strong, unified continent ready to determine her own destiny.
There are, of course, those who may voice criticism that Rajoelina's COVID-19 remedy is not enough to catalyse the important conversation of the African Renaissance, and that it is a passing fad that will soon be forgotten as long as COVID-19 continues to mutate. While this argument is valid, the critics fail to acknowledge that indigenous strategies of confronting diseases, particularly those that are viral, including HIV/AIDS, remain instrumental in instilling optimism and hope in a continent that has been battered by persistent narratives of despair and Afro-pessimism. Madagascar essentially provides the continent with a new incentive to sustain, for example, the debate around patents and intellectual property rights that have received scant attention from African governments. The island nation further acts as a symbolic incubation centre for creative, radical and innovative ideas that are not afraid to confront mainstream thinking (on matters medicine) in the 21st century.
Madagascar's story has just begun and it will continue to follow the same trajectory as long as the beneficiaries of the herbal remedy recover from COVID-19. Western media stations will have to rethink their reporting on African issues because the old ways will no longer work. African sounds, not just music in the sonic sense, but the capacity to speak and be heard will increasingly become the norm rather than the exception. A deepening African consciousness, that in the past was considered an anathema, will progressively influence new ways of engagement between fellow Africans within and outside the continent and between Africans and non-Africans. It is highly probable that the engagement—time is on Africa's side (considering the youthful population)—will always be of equals and not that of a master and subordinate. With Rajoelina and Malema and Bobi Wine and many countless others accelerating these pan-African conversations through music, art, speeches, and most importantly, home-grown science, Africa's voice is set to soar.
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Kimpton Brice Hotel
- Free WiFi
- Great for families
- Collect stamps
Kimpton Brice Hotelfrom €148
- Premier Room, 1 King Bed
- Suite, 1 King Bed
- Deluxe Room, 1 King Bed
- Premier Room, 2 Queen Beds
- Suite, 2 Queen Beds
- Standard Room
- Deluxe Room, 2 Queen Beds
- Premier Suite, 1 King Bed, Accessible, Bathtub (Hearing, Mobility)
- Premier Suite, 1 King Bed
- Deluxe Room
- Deluxe Room, 1 King Bed, Accessible, Bathtub (Hearing, Mobility)
- Deluxe Room, 1 King Bed, Accessible (Hearing, Mobility, Roll-In Shower)
More great choices
What's around Kimpton Brice Hotel
- In Historic Downtown Savannah
- Warren Square - 5 min walk
- Reynolds Square - 7 min walk
- Rousakis Riverfront Plaza - 8 min walk
Getting around
- Savannah - Hilton Head Intl. Airport (SAV) - 21 min drive
- Hilton Head Island, SC Airport (HHH) - 66 min drive
- Savannah Amtrak Station - 10 min drive
- Savannah Station - 11 min drive
At a glance
Key facts
Hotel size
- This hotel has 145 rooms
- This hotel is arranged over 3 floors
- Check-in time 4:00 PM-4:00 AM
- Check-out time is 11 AM
Required at check-in
- Credit card required for incidental charges
- Government-issued photo ID may be required
- Minimum check-in age is 18
Travelling with others
- Pets stay free
- Food and water bowls available
- Free WiFi in public areas
- Free WiFi in rooms
- Self parking *
- Car charging point
Payment types at the property
Other information
- Smoke-free property
In the hotel
- Full breakfast daily (surcharge)
- Restaurant
- Bar/lounge
- Room service (during limited hours)
- Free reception
- Coffee/tea in a common area
- Water dispenser
- Outdoor pool
- Fitness facilities
- Free bicycles on site
- Conference space
- Computer station
- 24-hour front desk
- Concierge services
- Tours/ticket assistance
- Dry cleaning/laundry service
- Laundry facilities
- Free newspapers in lobby
- Luggage storage
- Wedding services
- Multilingual staff
- Number of buildings/towers - 1
- Year Built - 1860
- Elevator
- Safe-deposit box at front desk
- Garden
- Braille or raised signage
- Accessible bathroom
- In-room accessibility
- Roll-in shower
- Wheelchair-accessible path of travel
- Wheelchair-accessible parking
- Assistive listening devices available
- English
In the room
- Air conditioning
- Minibar
- Bathrobes
- Iron/ironing board
- Hypo-allergenic bedding available
- Down comforter
- Blackout drapes/curtains
- Premium bedding
- Pillowtop mattress
- In-room massage available
- Private bathroom
- Shower/tub combination
- Designer toiletries
- Hair dryer
- Flat-screen TV
- First-run movies
- Pay movies
- Premium TV channels
- IPod docking station
- Desk
- Free newspaper
- Free WiFi
- Phone
- Daily housekeeping
- In-room safe (laptop compatible)
- Connecting/adjoining rooms available
Recommended hotels
Special features
DiningPacci Italian Kitchen - Overlooking the garden, this restaurant specializes in Italian cuisine and serves breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner. Guests can order drinks at the bar and enjoy alfresco dining (weather permitting). Happy hour is offered.
Awards and affiliations
Green / Sustainable Property
This property participates in Green Key Eco-Rating Program, a program that measures the property's impact on one or more of the following: environment, community, cultural-heritage, the local economy.
Kimpton Brice Hotel's small print
Also known as
- Brice Hotel
- The Brice a Kimpton Hotel
- Kimpton Brice Hotel Hotel
- Kimpton Brice Hotel Savannah
- Kimpton Brice Hotel Hotel Savannah
- Brice Hotel Savannah
- Brice Savannah
- Mulberry Inn Savannah Ga
- Kimpton Brice Hotel Savannah
- Kimpton Brice Hotel
- Kimpton Brice Savannah
- Kimpton Brice
- The Kimpton Brice Hotel
The property has connecting/adjoining rooms, which are subject to availability and can be requested by contacting the property using the number on the booking confirmation.
Only registered guests are allowed in the guestrooms.
The name on the credit card used at check-in to pay for incidentals must be the primary name on the guestroom reservation.
Special cancellation policies or charges may apply for group reservations (more than 8 rooms for the same property / stay dates).
Optional extras
Self parking costs USD 20 per night
Breakfast costs between USD 5 and USD 20 per person (approximately)
We have included all charges provided to us by this property. However, charges can vary, for example, based on length of stay or the unit you book.
FAQs for Kimpton Brice Hotel
Is there a pool at Kimpton Brice Hotel? Yes, there's an outdoor pool. Are pets allowed at Kimpton Brice Hotel? Yes, pets are welcome. Service animals are exempt from fees. Is parking offered at Kimpton Brice Hotel? Yes. Self parking costs USD 20 per night. What are the check-in and check-out times at Kimpton Brice Hotel? You can check in from 4:00 PM to 4:00 AM. Check-out time is 11 AM. What is there to do near Kimpton Brice Hotel? Recommended spots to visit include Warren Square (5-min walk), Reynolds Square (7-min walk), and Rousakis Riverfront Plaza (8-min walk). Are there restaurants at or near Kimpton Brice Hotel? Yes, there's an onsite restaurant that serves Italian cuisine. Nearby restaurants include Pirates' House (1-min walk), Joe's Crab Shack (3-min walk), and Cha Bella (3-min walk).
Recent reviews
Fabulous 8.6 From 717 reviews
Location =perfect. Pool small, cleanliness =mehh, needs updating. Overall ok. I would probably choose a different stay next time.
We checked in on Friday afternoon. The hotel staff was great, but when we got up to our room there was a very heavy damp/musty odor in the room. So much so, I asked if we could change rooms as my boys have asthma and it was irritating them. When we got to the second room, the odor wasn't as bad, but it was still there. We decided to check out the next day and go to another hotel. I had paid for the hotel upfront and have not received a refund for the two days we didn't stay!
Because of Covid- I think they could've done a better job of informing guests about things around the hotel- like the code to get into the pool area, parking (no valet), morning coffee, etc. There is no info in the room. They could just print a simple info sheet (disposable) and slip under doors. Also- no ice bucket, no trash can in the bathroom, and no fresh towel service. Is this because of Covid ? I feel like with a stripped down room and lack of amenities the room should be a bit cheaper. Also- dogs barking made it difficult to sleep.
My stay was great and everything to do was very convenient
I was pleasantly surprised to find that the hotel was in great shape considering conditions caused by the corona virus. Of course service was not the way it usually is because they are working with less people. I have nothing but a lot of high praise for this hotel. Cery friendly and courteous staff.
Overall the place was great. Due to short staff (Covid) the courtyard was a little unkept. Our room was a little humid so we just kept it cold. We liked the short distance away from the main downtown area as it was quiet and safe at night. I wouldn't have even know it was pet friendly which is a major deal for me. The staff was really friendly and accommodating. We will definitely stay here again.
I booked this last minute. The hotel looks nice from afar, but far from nice. The staff is rude, the nicest people there were the bartenders. The room was old and smelled musty. No hair dryer, iron or ironing board. No ice bucket, no disposable cups. Carpet was soiled. I booked this because it was a bit more expensive and I wanted a nicer place to stay, sadly I over paid. Definitely do not recommend this place.
The Kimpton was beautiful at one point, unfortunate it seemed a bit run down for our stay. We didn't realize it was such a dog strong hotel. It went way beyond dog friendly. The plants and walk ways outside the main entrance were always wet with dog urine, the carpets had clumps of dog hair in them (for the whole stay) and mid day the hotel smelled of dog. That being said, it was a great location and we appreciated the original charm that the hotel originally had and since we do like dogs it was ok. But if that's not your jam you might get tired of the smell, the potty spots and dog food dropping around the property.
Great job in trying times- spoiled my little dog rotten- THANKS!!!!!
Lovely one night stay. Friendly staff, nice lobby and very good restaurant attached. Great location near waterfront and close to restaurants, etc.
Is the description of this hotel not correct? Tell us


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CBD is quite famous these days, from skincare to haircare to dietary supplements and bath bombs. Hey, it's even in makeup like mascara and lip gloss. It's pretty overwhelming, and...Read more
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CBD products are trending especially CBD Hemp oil and CBD cream. You might have seen the CBD products in a healthcare store in your neighborhood or on a local website....Read more
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© Copyright 2019, All Rights Reserved Bee Healthy
© Copyright 2019, All Rights Reserved Bee Healthy


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What ultimately convinced Americans that they must revolt in 1776 was not that they were naturally and inevitably republican, for if that were truly the case evolution, not revolution, would have been the eventual solution. Rather it was the pervasive fear that they were not predestined to be a virtuous and egalitarian people that in the last analysis drove them into revolution in 1776. It was this fear and not their confidence in the peculiarity of their character that made them so readily and so remarkably responsive to Thomas Paine's warning that the time for independence was at hand and that delay would be disastrous. By 1776 it had become increasingly evident that if they were to remain the kind of people they wanted to be they must become free of Britain.
Campbell, Archibald
GA — 29 December 1778.
Savannah, GA — The 20,000 square foot museum stands on the site of the Battle of Savannah (1778).
The Creation of the American Republic, 1776—1787 (1969)


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Midtown East is one of the most uptown neighbourhoods in Manhattan and even in all of New York City. Midtown East is also a heaven for tourists, foodies and people willing to experience a perfect cocktail of cultural richness, lively nightlife, and the pleasure of visiting some of the most iconic landmarks of the United States. Everything that the Big Apple stands for, Midtown East is synonymous with. This is why we have expanded our portfolio to deliver deluxe studios in the heart of this neighbourhood.
Studio apartments are an ideal choice for people who are either visiting solo or are staying with a partner. Our apartments are centrally located and you will always find them in prime locations that are home to some of the most prominent places in the Midtown East neighbourhood. Every last one of them is designed and furnished with your needs in mind and will be the perfect spot to relax after a long day exploring the metropolis. Bear in mind that there is a 30 day minimum stay on apartments in New York, so some of our stock will be limited based on your stay's length.
Our studio apartments are fully-equipped with all kinds of facilities and options for luxury. Complete with specialities like a modern kitchen capable of handling all kinds of cuisine preferences, a flat-screen television for taking care of your entertainment needs, superfast Wi-Fi connection to keep in touch with loved ones, luxurious, snuggly and stylish furnishings, well-made and comfortable bedrooms that are ideal to help you get peaceful sleep and to recharge, gym facility to keep you in shape and more, our furnished studios are synonymous with luxurious living.
Whether you need privacy for a crucial business meeting, a comfortable and luxurious place to have guests come over for dinner or a casual get-together, our studio apartments in Midtown East are always up to the task. The whistle-stop access to Midtown East's most prominent locations, its great nightlife and the extensive shopping destinations only make a stay here even more worthwhile. You can spend the whole day catering to the purpose of your visit or enjoying the beauty of this neighbourhood and when you feel tired, you can always come back to the comfort of your studio where you can unwind, relax and recharge for yet another day of fun-filled experiences.
Whether it is the Times Square, the Empire State Building, St. Patrick's Cathedral, the famous 5th Avenue, the Grand Central Terminal, the imposing Rockefeller Centre or the art's treasure trove that the Museum of Modern Art is, you will have easy and quick access to all such iconic places if you choose to reside in our deluxe studios. You can be assured of stunning views of the outside while you are chilling at home or can go out and visit all the cool places in this amazing neighbourhood that Midtown East is. The choice is entirely yours but the central location certainly makes that choice a lot easier.
The central location also allows easy and hassle-free access to public amenities, transportation network and the best hubs for enjoying the services of restaurants serving lip-smacking food, bars and pubs offering refreshing cocktails and trippy fun, cool and trendy stores to shop your hearts out and equally mesmerising backdrops to just get engrossed in. No matter where you go in Midtown East, you are never going to fall short of options for entertainment. This neighbourhood is as colourful and vibrant as it gets. Our studios only give you more reasons to enjoy your trip by providing you with comfortable and cosy accommodation.
Contact the reservations team at TheSqua.re to book studio apartments in Midtown East, or you can browse more serviced apartments here.
We have a number of other properties not yet listed on the site.
Please fill out this form and we will get back to you shortly.
A1. There are over 172 serviced apartments in Manhattan, New York with more being added every day. In total, thesqua.re has over 100,000 apartments across the globe that are waiting to be booked.
A2. The best 5 and 4 star serviced apartments in Manhattan, New York are East 57th Street #6R, East 58th Street - Sutton Place - 15A, East 44th Street - New York, East 52nd Street, Second Avenue #26A.
A3. Prices start from $125 per night and increase from there. Bear in mind that the type of apartment and number of guest will affect the overall price.
A4. To see a selection of Manhattan, New York offers, please visit our offers and coupon page.
A5. Choose a part of Manhattan, New York you want to visit and search for the perfect stay for you using our easy search tool. Begin your search here.
A6. Some of the apartment buildings in Manhattan, New York will offer bed and breakfast or gym membership, whereas others may provide them with an extra charge. The apartment listing will make that clear Other services include airport pick-up, meet and greet and so much more. Book your stay here for the full thesqua.re experience.
A7. That depends on the policy of the apartment/building management. You may have to enquire first when making your booking in Manhattan, New York .
A8. Serviced apartments in Manhattan, New York have all the features of home, are centrally located and have other astounding attributes that make them better than hotels, as covered here.


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We do our consulting primarily online, leveraging current communication technologies to give you the ability to talk to us almost anytime. Yes, not too much coffees and handstriking, but will come next 😉
Before starting it's important to konw trip details, and time to get things organized, find where users/customers are and how to reach them. We found ourselves performant to understand people behavior using IT into several markets worldwide.
This is where we begin to visualize your dreams and put them into practice and positive business. Communicate your passion is sometimes difficult, and this makes the difference between success an failure.
Our Services
Integration With your Business Tools
Custom Bitrix24 Applications and REST APIs Development
Bitrix24 Support
Support Your New or Present Projects
Open Channels, Telephony and Automation Adjustment
Consulting Services
CRM Setup and Customization
Bitrix24 is one of the most advanced all-in-one platforms to manage company business processes, project management, CRM sales and unified communication. Bitrix24 specializes into Social Intranet, Tasks & Project, Business Process Automation and Workflow, Social Network integration, business Chat, full Document Management, powerful CRM engine, email management, VoIP, SMS messaging.
As official Bitrix24 Silver Partner, we provide you the best solution on the market, at affordable price and premium service, from pre-requisites analysis to deployment, community management, employee engagement, employer branding and full C-level reporting using BI. We provide you Bitrix24 licenses, both Cloud or on-premise, offering also to host your servers within our data-center, with 24/7 full service, high-availability server offering, full GDPR compliancy and affordable pricing for all company sizes.