Fun and joke aside, Bob Marley was a womaniser. Plain and simple! Ain't nothing to glorify about that. Talent, fame, wealth, handsome and sexy - Put all those ingredients in a bowl...trouble de de.
I lift my hat to Rita for sticking around because Rastafarian or not, I would dump his ass and trim. He could keep Miss World, the princess, and the many others.
I suppose I still have much to learn about this grown-up life. A man once used the phrase "mature consenting adults" while speaking to a friend of mine. We often refer to it and say we are not mature. Truly! Because all when mi act like mi grown-up, mi afi quickly pick up mi marbles and run back inside. These streets!
Mrs. Marley, yu good! I understand there was a time when you were gonna quit? But due to rasta and such...perhaps. Who knows?! And if you found other means of entertainment during Bob's escapades, big up you same way! Because we're not signing up for cobwebs.
Anyway, good thing you stuck around, because here you are! Filthy rich! You have done yeoman's service in carrying a dead man's name forward. In his world, I dare say his posthumous brand is unparalleled. They could have buried him, moved on, and lived off the royalties which would have been enough.
Instead, that family worked really hard to keep his name alive, much to the chagrin of many who believe his legacy isn't about Jamaica or the Reggae genre, but rather, just a man. So much so, that girlfriends [who by the way did nothing other than fall in love, breed, etc.,] will cling to the association 'til their dying day. It begs the question as to whether they would have done the same had his family simply let sleeping dogs lie [pun intended], and got on with their lives.
For all the poverty, so-so cornmeal porridge, bun, the vocal talent which was part of arguably the best set of backup vocalists Reggae had seen back then, the visionary wife you have been, Mrs. Marley, take your flowers, the money, and the movie. You earned it! I am glad you get to watch One Love.
As for the girlfriends, life is unfair. It really is. Sometimes the man really did check fi yu an so. But there's a thing called a marriage which many love to diminish to "just a piece a paper" or "just a ring". In death, it calls the shots even more than in life. And sometimes, you find yourself at the funeral, kid/s in tow, seated on the back bench watching the wife and her kids upfront. Because here, you cannot be recognised as anything other than the girlfriend or baby mother. Worse when the spoils are being shared.
I saw it with my own eyes just last year at a funeral. It was quite interesting to watch. The man, at the time of death lived with the girlfriend and the child, but still maintained some sort of relationship with the wife overseas. The wife made the love known with her tribute in the fancy version of the funeral programme. Someone squeezed in a tribute from the girlfriend in the cheaper version of the programme.
So when the biopic is told from the immediate family's experience and perspective, it's another funeral situation. There's much to unpack here as women when we sign up with these men for the roles of wife, girlfriend, side piece, etc. Yet, the next thing you find is your good self a fight ova man, because he loves you more. And you'll find myriad reasons to prove it is so.
We could fight 'til the cows come home; some men are exceptionally skilled at making all parties feel equally loved. Because monagamy is the biggest atrocity to have ever been done to "mankind". They'll tell you every vagina is different, and signing up for one is unfair. Plus, we all serve different purposes. Hmm...I highly doubt the others could fit into Rita's shoes.
This grown-up business is not kid's play. I will resolve that I'm not grown. Because, Lord knows I don't have the stomach for the heap a bun, no matter the wealth nor the 🍆 Neither am I prepared to fight for decades proving "I are the one".
All the while amidst a raging debate about national hero for a 70s/80s gyalis of whom I am a huge fan, this drama better not steal his thunder at this time. Reggae needs this. Jamaica needs this. The emotions, I could care less about.
Still, the powerful ode that is 'No Woman No Cry', is among my top 5 favourites by Bob. It's not a song about puppy love or sex. It is deep! It touches the soul. And it makes this woman actually wanna cry. "Everything is gonna be alright." Therefore, I look forward in high anticipation to watching a story which showcases the love between two ghetto kids with a dream to sing. For no matter where it ended up, no one can deny there was love.
As I always say...One Love ❤️
I am Suzette Campbell
Note: Originally published on February 17, 2024
Comments