Keith, I am so so saddened to read this post.  I have been a fan of Oni Faida's work since she wrote an amazing piece in Mirabella called "Me and My Wig" 10+ years ago.  I've read everthing I could f hers since.

Several years ago, I obtained her address and have been wanting, meaning, to write her a fan letter and invite her to breakfast, lunch, a cup of tea.

I'm sad at the missed opportunity, but sadder still that I never got a chance to put pen to paper and say how much her work inspired me.  Thank you for doing as the ancestors have taught us to speak the names of those who have mattered so that they will never be forgotten or lost.

My prayers go out to her family.

I attended Oberlin with Faida, where she was writing and performing amazing pieces even back then.  God bless you.

I met Oni Faida Lampley, nee Vera Ann Lampley, on a Sunday, during Orientation Weekend at Oberlin College in 1977.   I remember like it was yesterday that we talked about The Brothers Johnson song "Strawberry Letter 23" (a song whose lyrics continue to evade me).   What she said made me know we would be friends.  "I don't get the lyrics, but it has lovely images."  Or something like that, which made me say, "Wow! She's a writer like me."  And we did become friends--so quickly and thoroughly it was startling.   We talked about starting our own arts organization (to date mysefl, we called it something crazy like Nguzu Saba Arts Incorporated), we collaborated on a play as a Winter Term project where we tried to adapt James Baldwin's novel _If Beale Street Could Talk_ into a stage production.  It was a good thing it didn't come off since we'd plagiarized three quarters of the play directly from the book.   But hanging with Faida meant that you had to be ready to roll.  She introduced me to Nina Simone, Dinah Washington, the poet Ai, and all of them became as important for me as they were for her.  We could be out of contact for months, years even, and we would pick up as if we'd just left each other five minutes before.   What amazed me about Faida was that when you talked to her she was THERE, as if what you were saying was the most important thing in the world.  

She was my Muse, my most honest and brutal critic, and my forever sister-friend (long before that term became popular).   I cannot put into words how much I will miss her.   But I am certain in my feeling that much of who I am, I owe to Oni Faida Lampley, my forever sister-friend.

Kwame, thanks.  I met Oni/Faida in Brooklyn about 1987, and you beautifully evoke how present she was, and how ready to roll.  She was THERE.   And I will miss her very much.

Keith: thanks, brotherman, for this tribute to Oni Faida. She was a ferocious actress, a hilarious presence, a courageous writer and a loving soul ... her vibrancy and honesty will be sorely missed. I watched her many times tear the roof off a theater, then turn and be so tender - the eyes of the whole audience would well in solidarity. Recently my own grandmother died of *** cancer which also metastasized to the brain, so I followed Faida's health struggles with prayers, chants, fat-man-dances and good vibes. I only hope she felt the love of all her friends and fans  -- and feels it now -- as we continue to hold her in our hearts and champion her struggles and art.

Thanks for your writing as always, a champion, like our Lampley, of the spirit.