by Hauwa Gambo
If you don’t know who Kola Boof is or how her name became entangled with those of Russel Simmons, Kimora Lee Simmons, and Djimon Honsou, then you are lucky; run along – there’s nothing to see here but woe.
But if you do know both Boof and then the entire huff and puff, then I won’t been to fill you. The details are sordid enough to keep you glued. It’s almost like the scene of an accident – and it’s also a sad accident.
Anyway, so yesterday, Ms. Boof finally released the official statement that was going to destroy both Simmons and Honsou, and the reaction was immediate for a rambling, impossible-to-believe tale: ridicule, scorn; a document to confirm for those who already thought so that this woman has gone off the rails.
Confession: I also giggled, and pointed and stared; and then after the first read, I took another look, and I realized: this is actually the scene of an accident. I should be sad, I should be sorry. These are 13 reasons why we should empathise with Ms. Boof. And I am going to use her own words:
She is in trauma (note the word ‘irrevocably’ below)
As someone who watched her parents murdered in front of her at the age of 6 and faced down brain cancer with a wide spate of other tragedies bogging her entire life (I’m 42)–I am not one for superstition and emotionalism steeped in moralizing.
I have lived and survived a life that is literally unbelievable and irrevocably traumatizing. I am a damaged person.
Who proudly states that they are the world’s best face-banger?
I liked our sexual encounters just as much as he did. My thing was finding
places to fuck outdoors (naked in just heels; I have my own ranch & lake with woods)…*this always terrified Djimon but he did it anyway….and Djimon’s thing was getting intense blow jobs; rough face-banging to the bottom of my throat to be exact.
Then, there’s physical trauma
I am vaginally infibulated an African ritual that has great meaning to African men and to all men who like tight tiny pussy.
To be clear “vaginal infibulation” (which has been the horrific nightmare of my entire life) is not Circumcision or Clitoris removal. *I have my clitoris. But at birth, they undo the vagina’s inner muscles and reconfigure them to be unnaturally tight—they then sew the vagina shut until your wedding day.
On that wedding day, they give the bride a set of rings…and the groom a small razor to cut you open with. You then spend about a month being de-virginized by the groom.
It all started when she was a child
In my case, because my parents were murdered and UNICEF placed me in a
home with a Black American family–I lost my virginity to a Black American”Boule Octoroon” from Howard University, my English tutor at age 17.
It doesn’t seem to matter to her that a man wants her just for the “stroking” and the Double D’s?
It took a month for Truce to fully penetrate me and have “stroking” intercourse with me.
Djimon and I were supposed to “cheat” just once…but I used my expertise at sex to manipulate and control him.
We are both Sexual Athletes, but Djimon is very innocent. He’s like that immigrant kid you show how to use the water fountain. Just so naive and easy to manipulate. And to get back at Kimora, that is what I was doing. In no time, Djimon told me that he was once again addicted to my pussy, my 44 double D all natural breasts and my ability to endure “face-banging” (we’d had a relationship years before). He also loves tall women and I am taller than Kimora.
Our affair began.
Oh, the bitterness! Kimora says she doesn’t know Boof and it is very possible this is either a mental health issue or a publicity stunt – but still, wow!
I hate to talk about the “breakdown” that occurred between me and Kimora years ago, because it was literally the most oxygen-less moment in all of the suffering of my life. I get a heavy brick in my chest whenever I remember it.
I had to be operated on for Brain Cancer (and by the way–this is not a new “story” as some people have claimed; at least 100 people in the Book Industry were privy to the fact that I had brain cancer, over 50 people came to visit me at Loma Linda hospital; so this is in no way a new disclosure. People knew I had brain cancer).
What can I tell you? It was a horrid experience. But nothing was more lethally painful or dangerous than going into an operation with KIMORA telling me only an hour before that she had “slept with my man” and that he (my man) would not be there for me when I woke up–because he was leaving the country with her for a vacation. Right before being whisked into BRAIN SURGERY!!
And then this below (a huge burden to carry for life)
But let it be known that I have never forgiven Kimora. And I never will.
She hurt my life with her selfishness and her inability to see me as more than a ‘Colored Side-kick’ there to prop up her Princess role.
She is just…amazingly “unaware” of what she is and what she does to people. She neither cares nor remembers.
And I will never forgive you for that Kimora.
Then confusion: she wants to save Djimon and Kimora’s children and this is what she does?
There’s a lot that I always leave out of this story. There’s a child involved and I don’t want to reveal that dimension. But someday when I do die, that story will be coming out Kimora. Just be glad that I’m nice enough to leave it out right now. In fact, be glad this entire PRESS STATEMENT is so “mild” –because deep down, I don’t want to destroy Djimon’s image career or destroy you in the public’s eye; which would affect your children.
It’s one thing to lose your fake marriage…but quite another to be exposed as other less likeable things that could affect your life achievement and ability to provide for your children.
Though I did you dirt by screwing Djimon all through your fake marriage; my dirt towards you is still much less severe.
Then there are the mental health issues
I was born Naima Bint Harith in Omdurman, Sudan.
At age 6, after I saw my parents murdered in front of me, I was sent to my Egyptian grandmother (my birth father’s mother) Najet in Kom Ombo. My grandmother got permission from the Mullahs to put me up for adoption because my skin was “too dark.” My grandmother Najet even informed me, a 6 year old child, that the Kolbookeks has spent 120 years breeding the Black out of our family–and she didn’t want me bringing it back in. She said she couldn’t pass me as the Dinka maid’s child, because I had the exact face of the Kolbookek family–just dipped in cocoa.
I cannot tell you how devastating this was for me as a 6 year old. By the time UNICEF found me a home with Black Americans in Washington D.C. (my loving adoptive parents Marvin & Claudine taking over); I was an extremely damaged little girl. From age 8 to 19, I became an “out patient” Psychiatric Care case. I also wet the bed from age 8 to 19.
Russell Simmons made it a point to use the facts about me being treated by the Psychiatric Ward at John Hopkin’s hospital from age 8 to 19 to make it look as though I’m mentally insane.
For many it has worked and there’s nothing I can do. Despite my achievements as an author of 10 books published in 8 countries, people all over the internet keep referring only my “brain surgery” and history of mental childhood mental illness as factors in why I shouldn’t express myself or have a say. I think it’s despicable and he’s a “Turtle without a shell pillow-biting asswipe.”
How did Osama bin Laden enter this matter?
I never loved Osama…I survived Osama and was held by him against my will.
Somehow, the general public has never bothered to read up on our history. They just assume I was his **willing** girlfriend who loved him.
That’s camel shit!
They use terms like “Dating” (when there’s no such thing as dating in the Arab world). They don’t realize that I originally denied being involved with him until the London Guardian outed me as his “mistress” and the U.S. government threatened me and my children with deportation.
I was later deemed to be “innocent” by the U.S. government when Prince Ruspoli (the owner of the estate where Osama Bin Laden kept me) told the U.S. government that I was there against my will as a ‘sex slave.’
Amazingly, people don’t bother to know what they’re talking about and demonize as some loving willing partner of Osama’s. I did not love him. I survived him. I’m glad he’s dead and I’m grateful for President Obama making the world a better place by killing Osama.
She clearly doesn’t think she’s beautiful. The words below reveal that – no matter how she tries to hide it
People keep claiming that Kimora is more beautiful than me. They specifically say that I am “too dark” and ugly…that I look like a man (I happen to love ‘Trannies’ though I’m not one)….and that no Black man would want me. But notice my home, purchased by a wonderful Black ex-husband, is bigger than Kimora’s. I live in a $3 million dollar house on the ranch my ex-husband bought me and have my own private lake.
When it comes to beauty—-Americans (and especially Black Americans) don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. They think anyone who doesn’t have light skin or look Eurocentric or Spaniard or Asian automatically goes on the bottom. They also think beauty is the only thing men want.
They forget that Prince Charles dumped beautiful Diana to marry Camilla Parker Bowles. They forget that President Clinton had an affair with a Fat not all that glamorous Monica Lewinsky. They forget about Arnold Schwarzenegger and his frumpy stressed Maid. Just a few examples of why beauty doesn’t mean shit if a woman has other powers.
I Kola Boof, am beautiful.
I don’t give a damn what the Americans (and especially the Black Americans) try to tell me Beauty is. They came out of my Black ass, I didn’t come out of theirs.
I don’t have the kind of money Kimora has. But I am a dark skinned BEAUTIFUL Black Egyptian-Sudanese woman and I have had just as many powerful, rich famous men as Kimora has had and the home my husband purchased for me and our two boys is far more impressive than Kimora’s. So let the anonymous internet surfers with their broke McDonald-employed asses and biracial but still aint got a man selves call me “dark ugly man-looking ape”….whatever. The fact is, I came a very long way from a barefoot little orphan in war torn Sudan. My challenges and illnesses have been great…but like a classic Black African woman…I made a way out of no way. I triumphed.
How is the below any kind of victory?
Please don’t lose sight of the fact that Kimora is disgraced by the fact that a BLACK WOMAN is being publicized as breaking up her marriage–something that really embarrasses her because she’s part of Hollywood and the Superior Mixed Race women clique that Black America holds as the Gold standard of their self-hatred and erasure. Women like Kimora consider losing their men to a Black woman to be the same as finding out he’s gay. So this is a big thing for Kimora. The fact that I’m an African woman and the news is reporting I broke up her marriage. She doesn’t want this on her record. Her friends are going to be laughing at her and throwing it in her face when they get mad with her.
My intention is to not say anything about Djimon and Kimora from here on out.
I would really like peace and to get back to MY life with my own man.
I will leave you with this quote that a very hateful colorstuck Black American man Tweeted to me last night:
“Kola Boof is so evil. She’s your typical dark ass bitter bitch. She just will not be defeated!”
And, suddenly this is about the black race?
I say to all the Black Queens on the CHESS BOARD…let’s give birth to a better son and not these losers who can’t produce Black babies and have a psychotic desire to breed our people off the face of the earth.
This entire 520-word press statement is not really any kind of statement. The way I see it; it is in fact a letter; a cry for help.
Boof has every right to say what she has if they are indeed the facts. But then, fact and truth are two different things; right and peace are not always friends.
Those who can should send as much love as they can to this woman who could call the blogger Linda Ikeji a “b**ch” and a “sister” all in one breath. Yes, she is not the only one in the world with problems. But this one needs peace. And love.
In the final analysis, we all are looking for love.