Every Little Thing Gonna Be Alright Read Free

of consciousness. I had a little daughter, Sharon, and I thought to myself, This man looks like he would be a good father . I started to see he was the person I should like.
    I had sympathy for Bob. He didn’t know his father, his mother had moved to America, and he was living in a recording studio, sleeping on the floor. Life was rough for him. Remember that song that said, “Cold ground was my bed last night”? That was real for Bob. Over time I grew and grew in respect for him. It was a sisterly love. I said to myself, Okay, Bob, I’m going to take care of you. 1 took him food, bed linens. It was natural that we started loving each other.
    I felt we were meant to be together. But in February 1966 his mother got a visa for him to join her in Delaware. She wanted a better life for him. He was very upset and said he wasn’t going. Then he said the only way he would go is if “Rita marry to me, so I know she mine.” It was crazy because we didn’t have any money, didn’t have anything. But my aunt said, “If you got love for each other, that’s enough.” So we got all “dolly-dooleyed” up, and we got married.
    When Bob went to America, I wrote him every day. He was very sad. He would not eat. He had a job in housekeeping at a Delaware hotel. One day when he was vacuuming, the machine exploded and dust went everywhere. That was it. So after about eight months, he decided to come back to Jamaica, little Sharon and me. Deep down he always knew he was a singer and that he would not spend his life in America doing odd jobs.
    Our daughter, Cedella, was born in August 1967, less than a year after he returned home. Bob gave her the pet name “Nice Time.” It was inspired by his homecoming. You may know his song that says, “Long time we no have no nice time.” Ziggy came in October 1968, Stephen in April 1972 and Stephanie in August 1974. Bob would take us driving, and we would jam together in the evening. We would sing and he would play his guitar. He was very serious about his music, always serious about it. It was the reality of his life, but also of the lives of millions. Like “Get Up, Stand Up.” This was an encouragement to be strong, be faithful. “One love, one heart, let’s get together and feel all right”—freedom fighters in Zimbabwe say that song got them going when they were seeking their independence from Britain.
    One of the first times we performed in America, we were at Madison Square Garden in New York City opening for a major U.S. group. After we finished, everybody got up and left. Bob Marley outdid this popular American group. That was something—to see an American audience accept us. Another time we were in London, and where we were singing there was a pool in front of the stage. It was full of muddy water, but everybody jumped in just to get closer to us.
    We worked hard. I remember being in the studio back in Jamaica, eight going on nine months pregnant, thinking, I can’t take this. I just knew I was going to have this baby in the studio. But Bob said, “This album must finish.” Sometimes when I was sleeping, he would shake me. “Listen to this,” he would say. And he would play his guitar and sing and I would take down the lyrics.
    Our harmony was tested when word would come that another woman had had a baby for him. At first I said to him, “Are you crazy? Is this something I’m going to have to live with?” But I asked God to give me the understanding, ’cause our love was more than for flesh or looks, it was something so deep. I found tolerance. I grew to love what he loved. Now I have a relationship with the children’s mothers. We were never enemies. And I made sure the children got to school, got to the dentist. Today I say I have 11 children, a bunch of grands, a village in Africa and a world of people. I have acquired a perfect love, which helps me to this day.
    When our five were little, I knew they would be somebody. They would beg their father to let them sing