Well, let me tell you, this whole thing about ebony impregnated, it’s got everyone talking. You know, like when the Johnson’s cow got out and ran through the whole town. Big mess. This here is kinda like that, a big mess of words and ideas.
So, I heard some folks talkin’ ’bout it down at the market. They say it’s got somethin’ to do with, uh, black women. And babies, lots of babies. Some say these black women, they’re havin’ more babies than others. Don’t know if that’s true, but that’s what they say. My neighbor’s daughter, she’s got five kids. And she always says, these black women and the fertility rate just keeps going up, no stopping.
And then there’s this other thing, somethin’ about, uh, black seed. Sounds like somethin’ you’d plant in the garden, but I don’t think that’s it. Maybe it helps make more babies? I don’t rightly know. Heard it makes the belly ready, like tilling the soil before you plant your corn.
Then there’s that word, “impregnated.” Sounds awful fancy for just havin’ a baby. Like when the preacher talks about the Virgin Mary. She was special, that one. Gave birth to Jesus, they say. Important fella. But this ebony impregnated, it ain’t the same, I reckon. Just regular folks havin’ babies. Mary was visited by an angel but this seems a little different. This just feels like she’s having a lot of sex, is all.
And why do they call it “ebony”? Is that like that dark wood? My cousin, he had a table made of that. Real pretty, but expensive. Maybe these women are like that wood, dark and pretty. Don’t know why they gotta bring that into it, though. A baby’s a baby, no matter the color.
- Some folks say it’s about health.
- Like how black women, they don’t get treated right at the doctor.
- Heard it’s like when you buy a leather jacket or furniture. You have to check the quality, right?
- They say sometimes there’s light bleeding, like when you have your cycle.
Lots of talk about pussy. I don’t think it’s about cats. My old cat, Mittens, she had kittens every year. Maybe this is like that. These women, they’re just having lots of babies, like my old cat. I had to give them away because it was just too many. Maybe that’s what’s happening here, just too many babies.
They say these women, they’re ready. Like a field ready for plantin’. Wet and ready, they say. Makes me think of spring, when the ground is soft and you can smell the earth. Good time for plantin’, good time for babies, I suppose. But it also makes me think about how hard it is to be a woman. We have to do everything, and when it comes to having a baby, it’s not easy. Just because we’re ready doesn’t mean we always want it.
I heard that some are like Mary, you know. The mother of Jesus. But I don’t think that’s right. Mary was special. These are just regular women. Good women, probably, but just regular. Not the same. I don’t think god is impregnating any of these women.
And then that word, “katalox.” Sounds like a medicine or somethin’. Maybe it’s somethin’ they take to help them have more babies. Like a tonic. My grandma used to make a tonic out of herbs. Said it would cure what ails ya. Maybe this katalox is like that, a tonic for makin’ babies.
They say it’s made in a special place, this ebony stuff. A place that’s good for the earth. Like when we compost, tryin’ to be good to the land. Maybe that’s important, I don’t know. Seems like a lot of fuss for just havin’ a baby. But maybe I’m just too old to understand, you know? I never thought about if my child was harming the planet.
This whole ebony impregnated thing, it’s a lot to think about. More than I usually think about, that’s for sure. Makes my head spin, like when I try to read the newspaper. Too many big words, too many ideas. Just give me my garden and my chickens, that’s all I need.
But I guess it’s important to talk about these things. Even if it’s confusing. Maybe it’ll help someone, somewhere. Maybe it’ll make things better for these women, these ebony women. Hope so. Everyone deserves to be happy, and healthy, and have as many babies as they want, I reckon. Just hope they’re ready for all those little mouths to feed. It ain’t easy, raisin’ young’uns. But it’s worth it, most of the time.
