Postscript: Nov 8th 2025. The very effective use of the song ‘New York, New York’ in Mamdani’s campaign and in his victory rallies, has transported me back to the self-same thoughts that moved me to write this piece in December of 2021.
Reading this again, almost 4 years later, I find myself still true to this piece. Enjoy those who will.
And for my dear Dr. Sattar who commented on this post then,” …your post shows me another angle, dingy and grimy, yet hopeful because we, stalwarts defenders of our soil, are still around and our emotions count.” Indeed Sir, we stalwarts persist and our emotions remain intact and they count.
——————————————————————————————————————
Note: This piece is inspired by Jay Z & Alicia Keys – Empire State Of Mind, particularly the version filmed Live on Times Square, New York Jay Z & Alicia Keys – Empire State of Mind LIVE
Male’ City- our capital. It’s noisy, grimy, loud and rebellious. It’s dirty, unhealthy, and congested. It’s ready to spark havoc and may erupt spontaneously spewing unsanitary waste and dangerous fumes. It’s roads are stuff of nightmares and demonic visions. It’s rife with crime and dangerous liaisons.
But for a whole lot of us, this is our city. It’s where we first found blisters on our feet, love in our heart and anguish in our soul. It’s where our dreams were moulded, our dispositions shaped, and where we first discovered the true nature of ourselves, often with much surprise and shock. It veils our sporting failures, exhibits our academic victories, and hide the many graves where our broken hearts were buried, only to rise- phoenix like, to be shattered and buried again.
It’s our home, our city- Male’ City.
In ‘Empire of State of Mind’, Alicia Keys sings of her hometown New York City
On the avenue there ain’t never a curfew, ladies work so hard,
Such a melting pot on the corner selling rock, preachers pray to God,
Hail a gypsy cab takes me down from Harlem to the Brooklyn Bridge,
Someone sleeps tonight with a hunger far more than an empty fridge,
and Jay Z’s mixes the haunting voice of Alicia with hard-hitting, grimy rap-lyrics
But I got a gang of niggas walkin’ with my clique though,
Welcome to the meltin’ pot, corners where we sellin’ rocks,
Afrika Bambaataa shit, home of the hip-hop
Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back.
For foreigners it ain’t fair, they act like they forgot how to add,
Eight million stories out there in the naked
City, it’s a pity half of y’all won’t make it.
But for both of them, New York is where
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There’s nothing you can’t do, now you’re in New York!
These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you
Hear it for New York, New York, New York!
They do not make excuses for the crime-ridden, guilt driven, much-to-be-forgiven, New York City. It is what it is. It’s where Alicia ‘grew up with noises all around’ and where she knows ‘if I can make it here, I can make it anywhere…’ It’s where Jay-Z echoes her words rapping, ‘…since I made it here, I can make it anywhere’. They are, and they aim to be in New York.
And that very much is what Male’ City has come to mean to a whole lot of us.
It’s where our dreams are crushed daily and renewed in our sleep. It’s where our parents fought, survived and are now buried. It’s where we hope to see our children pursue their dreams and indeed thrive. It’s where, we hope to retire, spoil our grand kids and nourish their dreams.
It’s a concrete jungle. It’s where our nightmares haunt us and our dreams inspire us.
Yes. This is my hometown. Loved. Scars and All.
Brother, inspirational prose and said as it is with the tinge of lament for a lost past. However drab and dirty and stinky, this tiny space in the ocean is still the cradle of birth and filled with deja-vu; the chaos and cacophony never mind, our memories over power those; yet we yearn for a better tomorrow – for our maudlin memories may not inspire our grandkids. This needs to change. But your post shows me another angle, dingy and grimy yet hopeful because we, stalwarts defenders of our soil, are still around and our emotions count. What after us? Allah knows best. But we must let our emotions flow — in humility though.