The right and true story of Johanee Darko pushes, claws, and screams its way into our consciousness. I, named King, was the sole witness to the entirety of events. From when she came into this world as a gift, until the world recognized her for what she was.
I feel I would be doomed to some unimaginable level of suffering if I withheld the writing of these accounts. I can no longer delay in the telling of these accounts as I have become aware that my body is aging rapidly and soon my mind will catch up. More than that, this is a story that will not tell itself.
I bring forth this story to serve as the one and true record of The Sacred Heart of Johanee Darko. I must do this not only for the redemption of my own soul, but for the soul of humanity. This story must be told so that time will not change and manipulate the events to fit politicized agenda.
I’ve prayed now so many days, months and now years, that some other than I would tell the story. Today there are strong powers at play as there has been in the truly short history of human intelligence. Forces that prosper, benefit, and maintain control of power, wealth, and prestige by embellishing history in their own way. They are interested in ensuring the population at large does not advance in the direction of true fairness, equality, kindness, and righteousness. Their interests are best served if the world’s people do not discover the true secret to obtaining Right Thinking, Right Action and Right Knowledge.
I have one request, my brothers and sisters, friends, and spiritual family. I ask that you retell the story and pass along this written and true history of Johanee Darko so that someday soon the high-water mark she left for us will be realized, and the truth of her purpose and our own existence will be grasped.
I am the one and only person to have been by Johanee’s side through most every day and thus am uniquely qualified to be writing the full, unfiltered history of Johanee Darko. In those rare times I was not actually there, the events were relayed to me, not in third person but by Johanne Darko herself. In those instances where I was compelled to account for experiences that were relayed to me from others, I have been painstaking in my research and my knowledge of what Johanee’s purpose is and how she would have relayed the events herself if that had been possible.
Who am I that you should believe and trust in me, well I am King and was born into an African American family in Louisiana. My mother Alberta Martin was a strong southern woman. Johanee Darko’s mother, Ana Maria Darko, and my mother were great friends, at least as great of friends as could be, based on their limited knowledge of what true friends were.
My mother named me King Martin in the hopes that I would rise to power and prominence in the world of personal powerlessness and poverty that she had known and that I was born into. This was a heavy name I never thought I could live up to until I saw Johanee Darko rise to her potential. Like all mothers struggling in poverty, my mother Alberta wanted a better life for me than the one she was enduring.
I was, instead, to become a simple servant, rather than a king, but I learned how to live up to my given name in that humble role. I devoted my life to the service of the One and only One. From the day of her birth, when I King, was only six-years old, I met and recognized Johanee Darko as someone I would never leave. I knew I would drop to my knees and humble myself to any request she had. God struck me with spiritual lightning that day. Here laid a babe that gave me a reason to live. It is hard to imagine a six-year-old needing a reason to live but not wanting to live was not uncommon in the neighborhoods I grew up in, even for a six-year-old.
I had not known deep meaning in life, but God brought me Johanee Darko. Strange as it may seem I felt like one of the wise men at the manger witnessing the child from Bethlehem and recognizing that he was a savior.
When I first laid eyes on Johanee as an infant I felt immediately the role of the Father as a provider, the older brother as a protector, the student looking at their one great teacher and the heart throbbing young boy feeling the love attraction of a girl for the first time. I was in Love in all ways.
Johanee’s mother suffered greatly in the course of her days. Neither Ana Maria Darko nor my mother Alberta knew not how to raise a child. That fact of course makes no difference in the ability to have babies. Children came to Ana Maria Darko and many other young women – without instructions. Pregnancy comes not respectful of whether the mother is filled with joy and has discovered that they have much to offer the world or whether the mother is filled with fear suffering from the belief they have nothing to offer.
Looking back in time, I see that Johanee Darko was a joy-filed soul that offered me loving support even as an infant. How is it that an infant who receives little Love and Joy can beam with such qualities? Infants are fresh from God without any societal separation from racism, homophobia, xenophobia, or wealth inequities. Such was Johanee Darko, a Love filled child beaming with Joy. Unlike most people as she grew older she never gave into the belief of societal separation, she never fell victim to the belief that she was in any way separate or superior to any other.
My mother Alberta Martin was killed when I was just twelve. Murdered at the hands of a boyfriend of sorts. I saw Johanee’s mother Ana Maria cry when she heard the news of her murder. Being the only child, I was on my own, but Ana Maria always allowed me to stay with her whenever she was able to provide a place for herself and Johanee. With the passing of Alberta, Ana Maria had lost her partner in crime and the one who looked out for her when no one else could or would. I remained unfazed from the outside, she had been gone from her motherly duties for many years and I had seen violence and heard the news of unexpected death near weekly for as long as I could recall.
I came to Love my mother for her suffering and the fact that I see her in the mirror today when I shave. I never have come to feel I knew her. I remember her voice when she called me King. She would say “Aye King” and I would come. This became shortened and others called me “I King”. I refer to myself in this way to this day as it reminds me of my mother and her hopes for my life which were fulfilled.
With the loss of my own mother I felt doubly blessed to have Johanee in my life. She gave me purpose. Someone to Love. I knew she was the One; and I knew I loved her as deeply as any man has ever loved another living being.
I had no other family that I was aware of, it was as if Alberta Martin and I King had been plopped down in Louisiana without a past. I believe that Alberta was running from something, maybe my father, who I never knew, and found New Orleans as the place to hide. This is the only explanation I have for our utter isolation from any kind of family or long-term friends.
Johanee had relatives, but little real family. Her family was not safe for a young girl, therefore not entitled by I King, to be called family. I protected her the best I could, but I am sorry, and dread to admit, I was not always able to safeguard her as a child deserves. I was after all still a child myself.
I’d been sickly in my youth, suffering from of rickets caused from two things I longed mightily for as a child; food, and sunlight. I was quite short on both, food since my mother was not aware nor could provide for the needs of hungry children and sunlight as I would remain indoors for my own safety. As a result of the rickets the bones did not fully form, and my bowed legs were very pronounced. I was able to care for myself by the age of eight, but the damage had been done. The local players that ran the streets and made the rules in New Orleans taught me how to steal and run errands for them to survive. “I King” they would shout when I came around, I loved the attention from these street people. I felt accepted by them much more than children my own age.
I grew to provide for myself in this dubious way. I knew how to access food and was desperate enough to go outside and face the violence on the streets. I grew to quite a large size. When I accessed food I ate even when my belly was bulging and stretched to the point of pain. Later in my youth I became obsessed with weightlifting and building my physical body in a vain attempt to live up to the I King name. I will leave it up to you whether I ever became a King, but I was consciously growing stronger to protect the most precious and loving person I believe the Earth has ever known.
Stealing clothing and trading them to the body builders at the boxing club close by I was exposed and resorted to steroids as a young man, leaving me with a large muscle mass but uncontrollable acne as well. This left me with deep hollowed-out, pock-marked cheeks and an enlarged forehead and chin. I appeared much more intimidating and dangerous than I was. I had to fight many times in my life to protect myself, going outside of our neighborhood where I was known and protected was always a possible means of demise. I was both taught, and learned the hard way, to be prepared for violence any time day or night. “I King can handle his own” they said on the street.
The only time I ever raised a hand to anyone other than a direct attacker was at times when Johanee needed me for her own protection. On one occasion in a neighborhood that was not ours, we were confronted by an unruly, drunken, and angry bunch. I cleared the path for our retreat. Striking down, kicking through, and tossing aside anyone who prevented our retreat from street violence to ensure the safety of the one I deeply loved.
“I King,” Johanee had said when we arrived safely apart from the brutality, into more friendly surroundings, “You are a Bad-Ass.” Johanee rarely used any language such as this, so this was a special recognition from her to me. I will never forget my thought “I would have gladly laid down my life for you.”
Johanne was my only friend, my sister, my mother, my mentor, my boss, my Guru. She was the only family I ever knew and the only woman I ever loved other than my Mother Alberta Martin. It’s hard to say, not knowing to any other life than the one I’ve lived, but had I family or other friends, had my mother lived, I venture to say I would have left them in a moment to serve Johanee Darko.
I knew Johanee’s innermost self. I’ve devoted my life to Johanee and continue to do so, unapologetically. I am proud to be, even today, her protector. I was her constant bodyguard and then chief of her security detail but always I was one she chose to be by her side.
Johanee was not a welcomed child. Ana Maria, nor anyone in the Darko family, could afford another child. Like the child before, and the child before that, this was the way it was for many of the oppressed families in the downtrodden neighborhood of Desire in New Orleans Louisiana. These beautiful people had been having children they could not afford for as long as anyone could remember. There were loving families in Desire, The Darko family was not one of those.
Johanee’s birth was a hollow celebration. For most it was a reason to spend money they didn’t have on alcohol they shouldn’t drink, but they got drunk every day. As did Johanne’s cousins, siblings, friends, and other relations. As a young child I was like many people in Desire, a child who never really knew my parents, rarely did we even inquire. I was still a child, but I knew how to drink with the men, and the men drank with anyone.
Like too many today, Johanee was born into a world of trouble. Humanity had been reduced to a hierarchy of super-powers through massive military spending and endless war. The war machine spread violence and hate. Those in power of all political persuasions had a nearly one-hundred-year history of supporting the continuing escalation of trouble and death. Most of those in power had no connection to the things in life of supreme intrinsic value; they were poor in love, compassion, empathy, and kindness. They got more powerful and wealthier but not happier and healthier.
The planet was begging its children to stop polluting, to stop climate destruction and to awaken to the needs of all species. Forests were burning, rain forests were being cut down and waters were polluted by plastics and overfished for profits.
The rich and powerful never give up their power willingly. Genocide was in full swing with addiction being a weapon against those who were predisposed by biological weakness, zip code, race, and social status to substance abuse. Thousands were dying and little was being done to help. The politicians played to the press highlighting that they were implementing more programs and the press ate it up. Nothing had changed for the better in years and the problems were getting worse.
The elected politicians of the world were to support the needs of their constituents, but that was long ago by the time Johanee Darko was born. They played only to those that contributed to them staying in power. That did not include the Darko family nor their neighbors in Desire. Kind and loving people who became involved in politics were quickly and roundly destroyed by those they threatened. Or sadly, in many cases, simply sold out and became sickened by greed, taking all they could get for themselves rather than living up to what they knew to be Wise and True. Wonderful exceptions to this existed but was rarer by the year.
The Planet and its people needed a savior and Johanee Darko was born. She was visited by many who were in and out of wherever Ana Maria and Alberta were staying. They came to see Ana and Alberta, rarely with good intentions, but were taken in by baby Johanee.
Simon, a white man in his late thirties was a regular visitor. He was clearly from another neighborhood, more well-dressed than most that came by. Ana Maria and Alberta referred to him jokingly as “Simon the White” as a characterization of not just his Caucasian race but his stiffness and awkward appearance, quite out of place in Desire.
Simon noticed young Johanee and was pulled in by her giggling and cooing, he was uplifted thinking that she was as happy a baby as he had ever seen. Coming close to her he reached in as Johanee grabbed his finger and squeezed tightly. Her eyes glowed as did her being. Simon could feel the presence of something and thought to himself “this must be a messenger from God, this baby I think must be fresh from heaven.” This was not the experience he had come for. He felt guilty for why he had come to see Maria and Alberta. He sensed Johanee’s innocence and felt unworthy and uneasy in his motives for being there.
Johanee gripped tighter yet and locked eyes with Simon. She did not blink nor let go. Simon the White stared back and began pulling away his hand. Johanee kept the tight grip, finally releasing when her tiny arm reached its full extent. Then she giggled and smiled at Simon.
He left quickly that day but Simon the White never forgot the exchange, the look of all knowing and innocence combined in that exchange with Johanee. Such was the effect she had on most.
I say Johanne Darko was the most beautiful creature to have ever set foot on this planet. You may say, “Yes, but you are under her spell still” and therefore discount my assessment of her character, intellect, beauty, and raw courage. You may say my judgement is flawed and misguided by a lack of true perspective. If I am under her spell -- then I pray that indeed you and the entire world could be spell struck so. I ask only that you pray, “Where are you, Johanee Darko?” and seek to find Johanee within yourself as you read these accounts. I ask also, as you read and pray for open mindedness and for the realization of the fact that Johanne Darko is, and always will be a modern-day Saint.
Lord of the happy joyous and free
bring us Johanne Darko.
We have no other hope
For this lost world of souls.
I pray now that we will become disciples of your way.
The way of Johanne Darko, your given daughter,
Sent to free us all.
Your power fills us
Your intelligence frees our mind
Your love overflows from us
Hear our plea
Are you there Johanee Darko?