"Oh! How come I’ve never watched this movie?” that was the question racing through my head as I was watching the 2002 movie ‘Brown Sugar’ six years after its release. To evade this question I quickly thought of the old phrase “revolution will not be televised” saying to myself that the likes of MTV and BET had kept this movie a secret, for they wouldn’t have wished for the truth to flourish and reach out to people like me.
But then, what’s the fuss in my mind and heart all about? The truth is, watching a movie that I ought to have watched six years ago made me tremendously ashamed of myself. It is not like am ‘a latest movie fad’ and that I have to keep up with anything that premier on the big screen. No, it is that this specific movie was of great significance to someone like me in relation to the community that I represent.
The main theme of the movie Brown Sugar was Hiphop and how its name has witnessed a downhill transformation, from being used to represent what is realty to becoming a word synonymous to a carefree lifestyle of the modern-day youth. The writer and the director of Brown Sugar try to champion the return of Hiphop to its state of purity and originality. Therefore for someone like me who is considered as a representative of Hiphop culture, it had to be embarrassing knowing about such a film, leave alone watching it, six years after its debut.
The thwarting fact is that I go by the title of Hiphop head and many expect me to be abreast with the happenings within the Hiphop circles, yet I am finding myself so much behind. The irony in it all is, just a night before the movie, I came up with the phrase; “I am a Hiphop head to the sole of my foot” after noticing that the pads inside my newly procured sneakers had the word ‘Hiphop’ inscribed on them.
As this movie was progressing, something funny happened. I received a text and its opening words were “hey stranger”, despite the sender being someone who knows me only too well, she still referred to me as a stranger. This outlandish happening made me understand, that I have become a stranger to Hiphop just as I have become a stranger to her, for the narration behind the movie was based on falling in love with the art of Hiphop.
When I heard Dre, the main cast in the film rhyming about a girl whom he met when he was two years old, and that his liking for her is that she had so much soul, I was astounded. That rhyme was there way before Kanye West’s home coming single, it was something that Common had done way back in the nineties.
Now, as I am writing this article, my radio is on and the music that is playing is Acrobatik’s “Remind my soul”, and I can’t help but come to the realization that Hiphop is not being degraded by the bling bling propagators. Hiphop almost had the last nail pinned on its coffin, but its killers were never the rappers who continue to parade skimpy dressed women on our television sets. Hiphop is being killed by people like me who are under the pretext that we are real yet in real sense we know nothing about reality. So when my good pal Barrack a.k.a H.O (as he fondly he fondly refers himself to), starts calling me his younging and keep sending me all those text’s with rhymes exhibiting a moral decay from DjKhaleed’s album, I got no one to blame but me.
As I listen to my stereo, the Hiphop mantra that follows “remind my soul” is Immortal Technique’s “Internally bleeding”, and as he sings “…these are my last words…”, I come to the sense that these might just be the final words am jotting down. And should that be the case (God forbid), then I won’t be mad, for the false pride in me would have died and I would have condemned my hypocrisy and proclaim my love for Hiphop.