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Perfectly Made in God's Image
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THIS PAGE IS DEDICATED TO ALL THE WOMEN OF AFRICA & OUR GLOBAL DIASPORA; WHO ARE, WHO WERE AND WHO WILL EVER BE. YOU ARE OUR MOTHERS, OUR DAUGHTERS, OUR SISTERS AND OUR WIVES. YOU ARE THE ALPHA & OMEGA OF WOMANHOOD AND THE KEEPERS OF OUR VERY ESSENCE. YOUR BEAUTY IS MUCH MORE THAN SKIN DEEP. WEAR IT WITH AN AIR OF PRIDE, CONFIDENCE AND ENTITLEMENT!

All comments & images are sourced exclusively from our 
male followers in Africa & our global diaspora. if you are the son of an amazing mother, the father of a precious daughter, the brother of a real sister or the husband of a wonderful wife; step up and represent.  
Send us your comments,  praise poetry, quotable phrases, etc. to: ahuniverse1234@gmail.com 
They will be posted among the images, once they have been reviewed for etiquette and compatibility.


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  MOTHERS, DAUGHTERS, SISTERS, WIVES.  BEAUTY MUCH MORE THAN SKIN DEEP. WORN  WITH PRIDE, CONFIDENCE & ENTITLEMENT! here to  
My mom used to say to me "you better learn to love yourself, 'else you will never love nobody else, not even your own mother" Best advice I ever got! 

Segun Adeola,

"I have lost track of this sister I once knew during my university days in Vancouver, Canada. She hailed from Trinidad by way of Cuba. Her favorite saying was 'use your cabeza'. She said it over & over & over. She said she got it from her mother and would say it to herself or to others whenever she got a chance. Frankly, it used to get on my nerves to hear it all the time. These days, some 40 years later, I find myself thanking that lady and her mom as I repeat the same words over & over in my job as a personal coach: Use your cabeza, use your cabeza (use your head!)"  
Sabu Isaka Seme


"You're the greatest, mom: we love you so much" 

Ronald, Jeffery & Seku

My wife wears all four hats and more. She is the mother of 7 children, the sister of 12 brothers and sisters and the daughter of a remarkable mother of 9. She also runs her own dress shop, is a deaconess at our church & volunteers at the food bank. She deserves a gold medal! At home, we simply call her The Rock.  
 Chima Chioke  
The prettiest woman he had ever seen came into view under the noonday sun in Lagos, West Africa, on the 5th day of January, 1966. She was not too tall, yet strikingly statuesque and very well proportioned. Her buba en lappa were not so ample as to conceal a physique adorned with a regal head, neck and shoulders, breasts and hips that could only have been fashioned by Oshun and no one else. As she glided effortlessly through the throng of busy shoppers, she cast a gaze in his direction for all of one second. Their eyes met for even less time but the interaction spoke volumes.  'I know that you know that I know that I am the most beautiful woman who is, who was and who ever will be' Indeed, throughout his 26 years of globe-trotting - the Middle East, China, Europe, North America and North Africa - he had never encountered a beauty as stunning as this; never! Later that day he took a long hard look at his own image in the bedroom mirror at his digs in Ikoyi. 'Not bad' he thought. 'In fact, you are darn good looking yourself' said he, still thinking of that stunningly beautiful lady. 'Lady? She was a Goddess' he asserted. ''Could she possibly be any mortal's mother or daughter or sister or wife?' Her age was that impossible to pin down 'Mine, maybe. Why not' he protested; then checked himself 'Easy man, you're not the only handsome dude in Lagos, you know. Conceit will get you nowhere. You know, we are a darn good-looking people. None better' he muttered, 'none better.' It had been a tiring day: dusty, hot and boisterous as only Lagos knows to be. Now he must retie, but not until he's located the family photo album. He searched high and low, tearing the place apart and nearly waking up the entire household. It was nowhere to be found. Half exhausted, he sat down, eyes closed,  both hands clasping his forehead, kept still for several minutes, then suddenly remembered. For some inexplicable reason, he had placed the very album under the pillow beside him just before leaving home that very morning. He whisked the album out of hiding and held it close to his heart as he got into bed and began dozing off. Several minutes passed. He was quite still but not asleep. Suddenly, with eyes wide open, he sat bolt upright, eagerly fumbled the pages and gently and tenderly kissed four images one after the other. They were of his mother, his daughter, his sister and his wife. Still clasping the album, he fell into a deep sleep, fully assured that he would never be the same again: that, as surely as perception is reality, Africa would never be the same again. The world would never be the same again."  

Taken from  Thank You Pa Santigi: Philosopher, Humanist, Mytopian, Lover of the Real World. The Best Teacher I ever had. (An unpublished manuscript by JS Demba). 
"I will always be deeply grateful to my mother who gave birth to me, and even more so to my paternal grandmother for the love and care she showered on me during my formative years. Now, as I am about to retire from a rewarding career as a high-level bureaucrat in the Federal Public Service of Canada, I look forward to visiting my birthplace in Ginee on the west coast of Africa, and placing flowers on both their graves, which lie side by side in our family plot. Thank you mother, thank you grandma: you are the very, very best!" 
Yaya Sesay

Dear AFRICAN HERITAGE UNIVERSE, 
I submit this poem for our three daughters and for all the daughters in our Universe: those who were, those who are & those who ever will be.
Daughter by Puno Selesho
- - - Daughter - - -
AfricanusIV,

PAGE EPILOGUE: The Black Woman
"Black queen of beauty, thou hast given color to the world!
Among other women thou art royal and the fairest!
Like the brightest of jewels in the royal diadem,
Shinest thou, Godess of Africa, nature's purest emblem."
From a poem by Marcus Panafricanus Garvey