Male vs. Female
“We’re sitting here today with a spokesperson representing the Nation of Black Women Separatists out of Middleton, Ga, Dr. Torri Johnson. Also joined by Khalin Jones who was the lead APD investigator for the tragic incident involving three young women attempting to escape what many people are calling today, one of the most dangerous organizations in America.”
Torri fought hard to roll her eyes as she crossed one leg over the other. She wore a black headband that pushed back her dark brown hair, hovering just above her shoulders. She meticulously smoothed out the long-sleeve black dress that hung just above her knees, and the only accessory was a simple silver bracelet, and a pearl diamond brooch to show her status. She wore little to no makeup but women like her didn’t need it. Her brown skin was flawless, free of blemishes with coco brown eyes pierced through the cameras with natural charisma and everything about her spoke of class.
Khalin Jones sat across from her against the bright lights of the studio and cameras, barely concealing his bitterness. His brown skin, more rugged and bruised, matched his tall yet thick frame of physically being in shape. He kept a low fade, arms that barely fit in the snug turtleneck, and thigh muscles that were visible through the dress pants. Attractive to just about every woman that laid eyes on him, he held on to a hatred he reserved for women like the one across from him. In his mind, she was the type of bitch to talk shit in front of the cameras and beg to fuck with him behind closed doors. It never fails.
“It’s the media ignoring the good that we do, and the things that we’ve accomplished,” Torri went on. “You refuse to acknowledge the community service–––”
“The same way you won’t acknowledge why you’re forcing women to give birth––”
“That is an outrageous accusation thrown at me, and I hope you have the lawyers and money to back your claim, Mr. Jones.”
“I got more than that, Torri–––”
“It’s Dr. Johnson, address me by my title––”
“Wait a minute,” the interviewer cut in, “let’s get some control in here. What do you say to the claims of your organization being accused of being a cult? Are women not allowed to leave this community you’ve all built?”
“It’s ridiculous.” Torri laughed as she pushed her hair back. “We were founded by four Black women who were being abused, mistreated, and disregarded as a human, as a mother, and as a Black woman. They decided that in order to save themselves, they must learn to protect themselves and those like them, including our Black daughters. We do not hold hatred against any man, woman, or child. We do not go around telling the women in our communities to hate men…to only give birth and…keep pumping babies out,” Torri retorted sarcastically with a fist jabbed into the air. “No, we are so far removed from that. I invited a few members of your staff here, and this cop here to tour our grounds to see for yourselves–––”
“Cop,” Khalin huffed with a smirk, “I don’t need to tour a thing. I’ve seen it with my own eyes what happens when you disobey. When you go against their rules and now…now!” his hands were thrown in the air, “they’ve been given freedom to become separated from the city and state. They are allowed to form their own laws and rules without having to pay a dime of state taxes or–––”
“That’s not entirely true nor is that any of your concern.” Torri laughed. “We are growing in size and yes we have our own land where each woman, whether she’s a mother or not, has a place to stay, food on the table, a job, free education and healthcare…We have four factions within our organization that is designed to focus on specific elements on what makes a pure Black woman who she is today, forever evolving. We have agricultural programs where we grow everything by hand and teach our women how to be self-sufficient. We also have a mall, movies, the women go shopping, and we’re in the process of implementing sports, teams and leagues across the Southern states. Everything you could possibly need is granted and handed to each member of our society. Out here, you all preach equality, but there’s no such thing…it’s a myth. Black women are underpaid. Black women are overworked. Black women are abused, and they are struggling. I barely feel safe having a car parked outside without some young fool running up to me with a gun wanting to steal it or possibly harm me, for a car of all things. The desperation and violence for materialistic gain reeks in the Black community here in Atlanta. Inside my community, just within the walls, my sisters…my Aunties, Elders, and Daughters are thriving and growing. We don’t have to worry about that.”
“What do you say to those who would agree if you included all women,” the interviewer asked. Torri’s eyes lightened with a practiced smile.
“My only concern is women who were born from two Black parents.”
“White women are also at a disadvantage compared to their white male counterparts and Hispanic women are––”
“Not my concern,” Torri politely cut in. “I am a Black woman. I represent Black women. My heart, my soul, my life breathes and bleeds Black women. Anything outside of that is none of my business unless it becomes a threat.”
The interviewer, who was obviously white began to pale in the face.
“Do you worry that people are labeling you and your beliefs as racist and extreme feminism? That you are adding fuel to the fire by furthering the notion of segregation and race supremacy. It’s being equated to the likeness of white supremacy.”
“Why would I be worried?” Torri asked with an honest tone. “There is no such thing as equality and the sooner people realize that the more they can better prepare to get ahead in life. That’s why in your society, you have white men running around in a dress calling themselves the definition of a true woman. I could never. You’re so worried about including everyone else, you’re forgetting to protect yourself and the space you were born to be in. White supremacy?” She laughed gently. “I’ve never heard of that. Again, another attempt of desperation from the opposition. No, I’m not worried about being labeled a racist. You want me to believe you and I are the same because we are women, but we are not and that is a fact.”
“Yes, but there is no difference between us besides the color of our skin. I am a white woman, blonde hair, blue eyes, and I too have experienced racism and oppression. Why can’t a woman like me decide to seek help within your organization?”
“Because our organization isn’t designed to coddle white women who seek validation for simply existing in a society made for them. We are not some white women's shelter or man hating tribe.” She looked towards Khalin Jones. “As I stated before, our only concern is Black women. Anything else is beneath us and our time. Next question.”
Khalin shook his head.
“Why don’t you ask her what they do when they give birth to sons,” he let out as Torri’s head tilted to the side. “Why do they hate men so much to the point where they despise little boys but can’t seem to continue without us?”
“What do you think we do, Officer?” Torri asked, crossing her other leg over her knee.
“I believe you are trafficking stolen babies across state lines and covering up murders…”
“Excuse me?!” She gawked with laughter.
“I know for a fact, women are not allowed to have sons inside the…community,” he mocked. “The number of newborns that have gone missing since this organization––”
“Wait a minute,” the interviewer cut in, nervously looking at the producers who waved for her to keep it going. “Just hold on, are we talking about the Motherhood Program that has garnered so much attention in the last few years?”
“That program is reserved for women who volunteer their time and bodies to become a mother, and that is no small task. That is a duty that lasts a lifetime, and we recognize that all women are not equipped to raise children. No, we do not steal babies from hospitals,” Torri let out with disgust. “Why would we take away from another Black woman we consider our sister? No, we do not disregard babies that are born male––”
“So, explain how there are no men, no boys that live within the walls,” Khalin demanded. Torri’s face began to change, seeing he was hitting close to the truth about their organization. “Explain how you women, who sworn off men, become pregnant in the first place? How are women giving birth to only girls every time…”
“You better have your lawyers on standby because–––”
“I don’t need to have a damn thing but my word. One thing I’m not is a liar. I’m raising a daughter of my own and–––”
“And I almost feel sorry for her,” Torri let out. “That she has to be raised by a man who can’t see beyond his own–––”
“You feel sorry for who? My daughter will NEVER look up, be around, go near psychotic women like you and your cult––”
“Can someone explain to this security cop,” she looked around the set, “the way accusations work? You spew out hate and lies to fit your agenda, yet you have no leg to stand on–––”
“I was born within the walls! My mother and my aunts were members, and the moment they found out she secretly gave birth, she was forced to give me up at eleven months old! Don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about! I am a product of y’all sick and sadistic way of viewing Black men! I haven’t heard or seen from my mother since but women that preach all this positivity and enlightenment…how can you toss aside your own child?”
Dr. Johnson didn’t waver, nor did she give any indication that she was shocked or surprised. She held her composure as she was taught to do when under pressure from the media and smiled for the cameras.
“And yet, here you are an officer of the law, healthy, thriving and sitting before me untouched,” Torri said with a delicate tone. “If we’re a threat to Black men in this society, how is it that a little boy that was born with us, our brothers, our sons can sit before me and accuse my sisters and I of such nonsense? What happened with you and your mother, I can assure you can and will be looked into if true, but that sounds like an isolated incident. Instead of proving my point that men, Black men are threatened by a black woman standing up for themselves––”
"Nobody is threatened––"
"As I stated before, you, Officer Jones, and…” She turned to look around the studio. “…a few women here are more than welcomed to come tour the grounds.”
“I’m sure my producer would love for me here at KLM News to tour your–––”
“I’m sorry, we only allow those that are…as you all say, of color… on the grounds to maintain a certain image and projection for our youngest and most impressionable members,” Torri said with an unapologetic smile.
“I, as a white woman, am not allowed to come to your…community, not even to tour it, because I am white?” The interviewer looked at the cameras, making sure they caught what she assumed was another racial injustice taking place before her.
“That is correct. I believe you’re finally starting to understand,” Torri answered promptly before focusing on Khalin. “Should you decide to visit, you will get a chance to talk face-to-face with our lawyers.”
Khalin refused to respond as the interviewer nervously cut in.
“Let’s take a quick break, we’ll be back after these messages...”
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