http://areena.yle.fi/video/505989

Enjoy!

            For more than sixty years ago, one of the greatest acts of discrimination happened in South Africa. Thanks to the Dutch and British, Apartheid gave a special treatment to white Africans though none to black Africans.¹ Apartheid is a political system in South Africa from 1948 to the early 1990s that separated the different peoples living there and gave privileges to those of European origin.² White Africans would take over everything a black African owns from a piece of bread to a house. Since the white people would take over the black's house, black Africans were forced to live in work camps or homelands.³ Many of them were to do forced labor.⁴ Many black Africans were tired of this unfair management, so they and a few white supporters decided to protest against the apartheid.⁵ The protest did not go well, for many who protested for equality were punished or killed by Dutch descendants, better known as Afrikaners.⁶ Protesters such as Nelson Mandela were locked up in prison, but as time went by, the Afrikaners soon knew who had the last laugh.⁷

            This story describes a young African girl witnessing Apartheid at its worst. The story focuses on 19 year-old Yoana Malouf, a South African girl who was born half black from her mother and half white from her father's. Ever since the day she was born, she was raised to work as a slave in the house of her father's supervisor, Colonel Almeida, who is an Afrikaner. With no parents, Yoana is raised by Col. Almeida's wife who educates her very well. Now all grown up, Col. Almeida makes forces Yoana work outside of his house with all the other black slaves and live in a homeland. While working as a slave, Yoana struggles with the decision to work for her freedom or rebel against apartheid for equality. Will Yoana ever see the light of day? 

 A fight for freedom

            Ever since I was little, I've always dreamed of being free. I've always wanted to feel free like a bird. It's a shame I never witness it since I'm cooped up in a big mansion. My name is Yoana Malouf. I was born under a white African farmer and a black African woman on February 12, 1972 in Nelspruit, South Africa. Nelspruit is a fairly old city filled with grasslands and forests. The weather gets rather cold during the winter and extremely humid in the summer but I don't mind. Not that many people live nearby because many white Africans own large amounts of land. When I was old enough to speak; my father's boss, Colonel Almeida, killed my mother for giving birth to me and for marrying my father. Since South Africa is under Apartheid rule, White and Black Africans were not meant to be together in a group nor were they supposed to get married. ⁸ If Black and White Africans were to attempt going against that rule, they were to be punished or killed. Besides having my mother being killed, my father and I were also ready to be put to death when I was first born. Luckily, Col. Almeida's wife, Gertrude, saved my father and me from being killed.

            "I'm only doing my job by following the laws of Apartheid" Almeida addressed.

            "Oh, yes," she said sarcastically, "I suppose you love killing innocent people."

            Col. Almeida ignored her and drank his tea.

            "Well, I hope you start thinking of finding a new coffee farmer after you kill Joseph" Gertrude added.

            Col. Almeida spat out his tea and got up.

            "Alright they can live as long as you stop talking to me for the rest of the night, the girl can even be raised here in this darn house" he bellowed as he exited the room.

            Gertrude told me that my father and I were able to live. My father was able to keep his job for a couple years, but Col. Almeida later fired and banished him from seeing me because I was born half-black. Gertrude, who was sweet as sugar, raised me as if I was her own child. After eighteen years of being a prim, proper, and educated young lady, Col. Almeida gave me a wonderful surprise on my nineteenth birthday.

            "Guess what, sweetie?" he articulated as he grabbed my arm.

            I stayed silent.

            "Don't know," he articulated."Well I'll tell you now. Since you're part black, you're still considered trash. And do you know where all the trash goes to?"

            "In the dumpster," I guessed.

            "Oh, aren't you so smart?" he said. "You may look white skinned like me, but underneath, you're just a good for nothing piece of black African trash. Starting tomorrow, you get to work outside in the farm with all the other pieces of trash during the day, and during the night, you get to sleep alongside them in a dumpster!" He let go of my arm and pointed to my room. "Pack up your stuff" he barked. "You're going to your new home."

            As I ran upstairs to pack my stuff, I prayed to God that I would have a safe journey at the homelands. I heard Gertrude and Col. Almeida arguing over me about my stay at the homelands. I had all my clothes packed in my bag. When I went downstairs, Col. Almeida and his wife were staring at me. Every step I took made my throat tighten. Every step felt like a weight on my shoulders. I said good bye to Gertrude who was sobbing dearly. I smiled at her to let her know that I'll be alright, then gave her a big hug and strolled off to the car with Col. Almeida alongside me. Almeida and I didn't talk for a while. Looking at the warm amber sky, pink clouds, and colorful fields of South Africa made me feel sad. When we reached the homelands, Col. Almeida spoke about when and where I should work. He said that I'm working in the fields to pick crops.

            "There are no breaks on this job. Did you hear me?" he said as he opened the door for me. "Refusing to work will bring you punishment. Do you understand?"

            "Yes, sir," I assured as I exited the door.

            "Good." he responded. "I'll see you tomorrow."

            He jumped back into his car and drove away into the warm South African night. I was left alone with nothing but the bag on my arm. There were so many broken down homes. Some people were living in the houses; others were living outside of them. People were staring at me, and it made me nervous. I felt like escaping the homelands but there were Afrikaners guarding the barb-wired walls outside. A little girl was watching me from a distance. She and her father were watching me from a distance. The man looked thin and old. He looked tall and muscular for his age. The girl looked very frail and malnourished. She had short curly hair and wore rugged clothes. She fit the age of a thirteen year old. She came up to me and introduced herself.

            "Hello, friend" she said. "My name is Kisa. What's your name?"

            "Yoana" I replied.

            "My father and I were watching you. Are you new to these homelands?" she asked.

             I nodded.

            "Well... my papa and I were wondering if you would like to come to our house and have dinner?" she asserted.

"That's very nice of you but I don't want to be a burden," I answered.

            "No, you're not going to be a bur- whachamacallit" she stuttered. "Please come to our house. We have plenty of room for you to sleep in, plus, we have enough food fit for five people. Please come?"

            "Oh, okay then, I'll go with you." I attested.

            So we strolled off to Kisa's house where I met her father, Anuke. He seemed to be very kind and polite. Both of them were very nice welcoming me to their home. A spicy smell was coming from their broken little shack. Anuke just made boerewors sausages. Mmmm!! How they smelled wonderful. The plain and salty juices of the sausages tasted better than how they smelled. After dinner, we all sang a few songs and they taught me a few new games. They made some space for me to sleep. I was very thankful towards their hospitality. Though I found it odd that they didn't ask where I came from. Maybe it was because they knew it was my first night being here. Who knows?

            The next day wasn't so good. Col. Almeida and his minions were watching us work. He was watching all of us from his mansion balcony. I was pealing all the coffee seeds apart into a bag. He demanded that I and a couple other women go get five large sacks of coffee beans done by today.

            "If you don't get the five sacks done before noon today, you will be punished. Do you understand?" ordered Col. Almeida.

            Everyone nodded and went on to their work

            "Faster! Faster!" yelled Col. Almeida.

            It was 11:00 a.m. and the malicious sun had never been hotter. It's been hours since I've started breaking coffee beans apart and I've only gotten 4 and a half sacks done. There is no way I'm going to finish by noon. I look over at Kisa and the 2 women beside me and they're almost done with their last sack. I was amazed at their speed pealing.

            "How are you able to get all those sacks done before noon?" I asked Kisa who was on her last bag.

            "When your life is at risk, that's all you think about" she mouthed. That's what enables me to finish so fast."

            "So your life is always on the line, isn't it?" I asked.

            "All the time" sighed Kisa.

            "You there! Stand up now!" called an Afrikaner.

            I stood up.

            "Yes sir?" I responded.

            "Show me your sacks now" he demanded.

            I didn't finish my 5th sack, so I just showed the four sacks I've finished.

            "These are four sacks" shouted the guard. "Where is the fifth?"

            "Uhhh..." I hesitated. "Where is that last one?"

            "Don't you dare try to trick me because you are not fooling anybody!" yelled the guard.

            Just then Kisa stood up.

            "Here it is" she disclosed as she placed the sack in front of the guard.

            The guard knelt down and checked the bag. He then grabbed Kisa's arm and shoved her to the ground.

            "The next time you cover for her, both of you will be locked on the post all day with no food or water. You hear?" He claimed.

            We nodded.

            "Good, now go back to work." he ordered as he marched away.

            I ran over to Kisa and helped her stand up. I noticed there was a large wound on her forearms.

            "Thank you for covering for me" I said. "I really appreciate it."

            "You're welcome" she mentioned. "Now let's get back to work."

            "Let's," I replied.

            Day by day, Col. Almeida assigned us a different job, and in doing so the Afrikaner guards never seized to fail torturing one or several of the workers. Some people were beaten whereas others were killed on the spot. Even at the homelands some people try to rebel against Apartheid. Every day caused one of us to have not only a wound, but a scar.

            One night at the homelands, Anuke, Kisa, a woman named Karim, and myself were talking about what privileges are allowed in the system of apartheid.

            "In the system of apartheid, black Africans aren't allowed to be educated at school or by anyone" said Kisa. ⁹

            "What? That's not fair" I inferred.

            "It is fair to the men of Apartheid" Anuke added as he took a sip of water.

            "You're going to love this one," Karim jested. Black Africans are not allowed to vote because the white Africans don't consider us as citizens." ¹⁰

            Everyone stayed silent. Suddenly Anuke spoke.

            "We're going to have to stand up against this" Anuke divulged.

            "We can't do that" Kisa said. "We'll be put in prison."

            Anuke ignored her and climbed up his roof and called everyone.

            "Citizens of South Africa!" He exclaimed. "We must come together and stand for what is ours! Starting tomorrow, we must break free from Apartheid and promote equality all over South Africa."

            The crowd was enlightened and agreed to what Anuke said.

            "What if the Afrikaners don't listen to us?" I questioned.

            "Then we will keep fighting for equality" Anuke proclaimed.

            "But we'll be put in prison just like Nelson Mandela" I replied.

            "At least Nelson Mandela stood up for what he believed in. Don't you understand that what they're doing to us is cruel and unjust? Those goons are giving us hell and were the ones that have to put up with it" he professed.

            He took a pause and spoke again.

            "When you were living with Col. Almeida, didn't you ever feel the anger and hatred towards him?" he questioned.

            Just then, those terrible memories came to my mind horrible memories of Col. Almeida mistreating me for no reason. Finding out about what he did to my parents. I then remembered when he ripped my dress that Gertrude gave me on my ninth birthday. I cried myself to sleep that night. 'Why would he do that to me?' I wondered. 'I've never done anything bad to him, and yet he still treats me like an evil virus...'

            "Yoana," Anuke said.

            I shook my head and nodded to his question.

            "Are you willing to join me in this fight?" he requested.

            "Yes, let's do it," I agreed.

            The next day, everyone walked to work. Everyone took their tools but didn't work. We all just stood silently at our stations. The Afrikaners looked puzzled. Col. Almeida stood up and spoke.

            "Why aren't you pieces of trash not working?" he blustered. "Do you think that you can just roam around freely doing whatever you want? Well you can't! Go back to work now!"

            Anuke walked up to him.

            "We're not working unless you give us the same respect to all of your white workers" he expounded. "We're only asking nicely. Will you please give us respect and equality?"

            "NO!" Col. Almeida shouted.

            "Very well then," he said.

            He turned around and took a step towards his station but quickly turned around punching Col. Almeida right in the face and making him fall unconscious. "POW!" His fist hitting Almeida's face sounded like a hammer hitting a chain. All of us felt proud of what Anuke did but the fight wasn't over. The Afrikaner's ran up to Anuke armed with weapons.

            We marched towards the guards shouting out, "Respect!" As the seven guards were ready to shoot us, they realized that they have no match for fighting off 300 people marching towards them with farm tools in their hands. The guards dropped their weapons and ran inside the house.

            "Hooray!" The crowd hollered.

            Suddenly, Col. Almeida stood up with a gun in his hand.

            "Don't start celebrating so early yet," he interjected. "Every one of you will be put in prison for disobeying my orders."

            "Not so fast, Almeida!" Gertrude asserted.

            "Gertrude, go back inside!" Col. Almeida shouted.

            "No!" she replied. "You know that you have no control of these people. Its 1991; we're not re-living the 1960's."

            "I do so, you old bat" he argued.

            "No, you don't, "she replied "Haven't you read the newspaper?"

            "What newspaper?" he inquired.

            She handed him a newspaper. Col. Almeida snatched it out of her hand and read it.

            "I'm out of the constitution" he questioned.

            "Keep reading," she chuckled.

            "President de Klerk abolishes the laws of apartheid?!" he cried.

            "Keep on reading Almeida," she guffawed.

            He kept on reading. "Those pieces of trash don't work for me by force nor live in the homelands anymore!" he mumbled in a shocked voice.

            Col. Almeida was so shocked about the news that he fainted to the ground. Anuke, Kisa and I ran up to Gertrude.

            "Is that stuff Col. Almeida shouted really true?" I asked her.

            "True as true can be, take a look," she notified.

            I quickly scanned the paper. When I was done reading it, I looked up at Kisa and Anuke and smiled at them.

            "We did it," I verified.

            "We all did," Kisa concluded.

            "Hey! So what happened?" called Karim.

            Anuke smiled and gave two thumbs up at the crowd. The crowd jumped up and cheered. Everyone cheered in happiness. Everyone was hugging and kissing each other. We were jumping and dancing in glee and relief. I felt proud of Anuke for helping me believe in myself. I actually felt the weight coming off my shoulders. Now I know how it feels, to be free like a bird.

(c.) Valo-Daily

Over the past few weeks fake "Ville" and "Ville's BF" sites have been deleted from myspace as well as on other social platforms. Ville gave a live phone-in interview to our very own CelticAngel on Euro-Rock Radio on Heartagram Day, in which he sat the record straight on a few things fans wanted to know about.

Ville stated that he did have a myspace page (and only a myspace page). It was NOT under his name nor any of his personal information. He also said he was hardly on it, if at all anymore. Ville made it a point to let everyone know that he DOES NOT contact ANYONE via email, internet accounts or any messaging services. Those that are indeed close to Ville would NEVER brag or gloat about their friendship...they don't have to, they have nothing to prove.

They also would protect him and his private life no matter what !!

A few new sites have come up since that interview, while others have given up the charade. There are still some that are being watched closely. Some of these sites are just fans, but some are involved in illegal activities or inappropriate interactions with minors. I know it seems thrilling to think you are "talking" to the real Ville Valo or one of his close friends...however, THAT IS JUST NOT TRUE!!! Don't ever give out your address, phone number, credit card or social security numbers.
If you have any questions about the band, feel free to visit their Official HIM Fan Club/Online Store/News/Media/Boards at: http://www.Heartagram.com


Yesterday, A very upset young fan found an altered copy of their autographed photo of Ville (which they had posted on their page), being used as "proof" of the "HIM_VILLE_VALO_UK_STREET_TEAM" site's owner being great friends with Ville. These are stock photos and are generated in mass for fans in general and are easy to acquire.

The HIM_VILLE_VALO_UK-STREET_TEAM owner (Paula) also said she was deleting the site due to all the trouble she was having, and would be using "HIM_FANS_UNITE" as her new site ("to keep out the riff raff"). Please do not get sucked into this woman's delusions. She has been at this for a long time and it is very well documented. She is also putting up a personal site: " ~ Anthie ~ Paulalle~" with the name "Paulalle~~" underneath the icon.

As a side note to this....~Freedom Photography~ has bonded with Paula over this and are now claiming to know each other. Again, questions about who has photographed the band...go to Heartragram.com (several that HAVE shot the band are members). Freedom Photography might have taken a few photos as most fans do....but IS NOT a photographer or assistant for HIM, Ville or any of the members of HIM !!

Please use caution on any website. Sure the internet can be fun, but it can also be used to harm someone. Stopping these sites is like swatting at flies, so please use caution. If you get the feeling something is not right, contact your local authorties. In the meantime, management is being kept informed of any erroneous sites, comments and/or profiles.

            For more than sixty years ago, one of the greatest acts of discrimination happened in South Africa. Thanks to the Dutch and British, apartheid gave a special treatment to white Africans then to those of black Africans. Apartheid is a political system in South Africa from 1948 to the early 1990s that separated the different peoples living there and gave privileges to those of European origin. White Africans would take over everything a black African owns from a piece of bread to a house. Since the white people would take over the black’s house, black Africans were forced to live in work camps or homelands. Some of them were offered forced labor or even working as slaves. Many black Africans were tired of this unfair management, so they and a couple of white supporters decided to protest against apartheid. The protest did not go so well, for many who protested for equality were punished or killed by the Afrikaners. Many protesters such as Nelson Mandela were locked up in prison, but as time goes by, the Afrikaners will soon know who had the last laugh.

Plot

            This story describes a young African girl witnessing apartheid at its worst. The story focuses on 19 year-old Yoana Maalouf, a South African girl who was born half black from her mother and half white from her father’s. Ever since the day she was born, she was raised to work as a slave in the house of her father’s supervisor, Colonel Almeida, who is an Afrikaner. Yoana’s father begs and begs to his boss to have the custody for his daughter back. But the choice Col. Almeida makes is to have Yoana work outside of his house with all the other black slaves and live in a homeland. While working as a slave, Yoana struggles with the decision to work for her freedom or rebel against apartheid for equality. Will Yoana see the light of day? The decision may shock you.

I'm working on a outline for my story right now. Hopefully, I'll have time to post it.

Band Name: Twiggy Ramirez
Twiggy part is from the famous 60's London model. Ramirez is named after Richard 'the night stalker' Ramirez.
Birth Name: Jeordie Francis White
Birth Date: July 20, 1971
Born in New Jersey
Replaced Gidget Gein(the guy was a herion junkie-Gidget not Twiggy)
Started playing guitar at age 13, joined garage bands when he was 15.
His mother's name is Dana, also has a step father and three brothers named : Wes, Dustyn and Aiden.
His mom and stepdad support everything he does in life.
Musical Influences: Iron Maiden, Motley Crue, W.A.S.P., Twisted Sister.
Likes: Kindness and originality.
Dislikes: People who claim to have total control over their lives.
Preferred Death: Drug Overdose, no pain.
Has one ear pierced, and no tattoos.
Favorite Word: "Nigger"(nothing to do with race)
Used to be mistaken in grade school for being a girl, so his mom told him to prove it to the other kids. Jeordie went to school the next day and pulled down his pants to prove it!
First erection happened when he tried on his mom's panties.
Favorite things in life: The BeeGees,The Cat in The Hat,red kool-aid,Star Wars,Scooby Doo,peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,lollipops,lunchboxes(has a nice collection of them),video games,cold isolated bedrooms and of course WHISKEY AND SPEED.
Preferred brand if whiskey is Jack Daniels.
Favorite Cereal: Fruit Loops.
Favorite Movies: Sgt.Peppers Lonely Heart's Club and Star Wars.
If he wasn't in a band he would be a prostitute or in the million man march.
Ultimate goal is to break down the barriers between men and women.
Manson and Twiggy met at a local Florida mall.
Twiggy used to work in record stores.
Twiggy and marilyn had two side projects called Satan On Fire, and Mrs.Scabtree.
Marilyn describes Twiggy as a"restless, mischievous child in the body of a silent psychopath".
Twiggy used to carry around a bag of bones when they lived in New Orleans.
Weirdest thing he has smoked: Human Bones.
Instruments he plays are rhythm, electric and aucoustic guitar, bass,violin and cello.
Previous to being in Marilyn Manson he was in a Florida death metal band called Amboog-A-Lard.
In Mechanical Animals all bass was done on a Gibson EBO or a Fender Precision bass.Guitar was done on a Les Paul.

Ok this took me forever to recap what I did today so ... cut me some slack, I've went through too much today! Enjoy!!! :D

Today…

pretty much sucked asshole for me. I would have to say that today was the worst day ever for me for a couple of reasons. First, I usually wake up at around 5:30 a.m. & I did get up on time but somehow my sister took over the bathroom because she's now going to an art institute school. I asked her to get out of the shower since she took 20+ min. shower. @ 6 a.m she finished but she still won't get out of the bathroom & she's getting herself ready on my side of the counter sink. I asked her to move towards her sink but she didn't move. We ended up arguing over bathroom sides who gets what & so & so; in the end she won the fight by calling me a bitch & I waited in my room til she got out. I was 20 min. off schedule so I right away washed my face, teeth, put on some make-up  & left school w/out eating breakfast. Luckily, I got to school on time. Now the fun stuff begins....

Lets start w/ the good news: I got a "B" on my chemestry test which was a first for me cuz I haven't got a good science grade like that since 7th grade.

Alright bad stuff: Ok, I had to do a World history study guide about the French revolution over the weekend & there were 3 essay questions & my teacher (who is new & only 22) (also the worst teacher ever) told us to do an outline on it so we could be able to do the essay on the test. Did I mention that the test was on the French Revolution! Over the weekend, I was quite confused, I even asked my teacher what the questions meant & she gave me a whole different answer talking about the structure of an essay. (stupid lady) Finally I able to understand it w/ the help of my oldest sister & I finished yesterday.

Well here's the comes the greatest surprise ever!!! Over the weekend I've studied really hard for the test. Did I mention that its on the French revolution! Well here it comes: My teacher gave me the test it wasn't about the French revolution!!!! The test was about Enlightment thinkers/ philosophers!!!! I had a tough time doing the test! You're probably thinking "well at least you'll have points on the essay, huh?"  No!!! Here comes another surprise I had my outline ready on my table (btw, my outline from the St. guide had to deal with  economic troubles, important events, & opinion paragraph about saying which were the best principles of the revolution) & she writes down the topic for the essay which didn't match mine. She wrote on the whiteboard saying she wants an essay explaining 3 things that contributed to the Revolution: social contract, citizenship participation, & equality.  (btw she snatched my outline & threw it in the trash) It was much harder doing the essay & couldn't concentrate because I was so pissed off at the teacher! When class ended, I was the last person done w/ the test &  I felt embarassed, overwhelmed, really angry about the test & the teacher. I was so angry that I wanted to cry & leave school so bad cuz I know I failed that test.

It was break, & I just wanted something to distract me from that stupid class. So I hung out with my friends, & we were talking about stupid stuff like the past & what we did over the weekend. Then somone randomly brings up religion & the bible & my friends are talking crap about it like "F**k the bible" or "God is useless & stupid"!!! And I was so offended & hurt by it! I didn't say anything but give dirty looks at them especially the guy who said "F the bible"!

The rest of the day came alittle ok, til' I went to math class & forgot my textbook!!!! Luckily we only did some review w/out bookwork so I was lucky on that. When I came home, the first thing I did was call my mom about the whole history test thing & she was just as pissed off as me about the teacher. My mom's planning on switching me out of that class & make me have a different teacher. Secondly, I tried lookig for my mathbook & I CAN'T FIND IT!!!!!! ARGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Looks like I'm gonna buy a new mathbook! This sucks!!! :(