Grander Media

When the news broke on September 25, 2025, that Assata Shakur had died in Havana at the age of 78, it marked the end of one of the most extraordinary and polarizing lives of the past half-century. For some, she was a symbol of liberation and resistance. For others, she remained a fugitive from justice. Yet beyond the headlines and the politics, Shakur’s life and words shaped a generation’s understanding of struggle, survival, and what it means to be free.

A Life on the Frontlines

Born JoAnne Deborah Byron in Queens, New York, in 1947, Shakur’s early years unfolded against the backdrop of Jim Crow and the rise of the Civil Rights Movement. She moved between New York and North Carolina, absorbing the realities of segregation and racial injustice that would later fuel her activism. By the late 1960s, she had joined the Black Panther Party, drawn to its direct action against police brutality and its programs that fed, educated, and empowered Black communities.

But it was her involvement with the Black Liberation Army that brought Shakur face-to-face with the U.S. government’s most aggressive counterintelligence campaigns. The FBI labeled her a domestic terrorist, while supporters viewed her as a target of state repression. In 1973, her name became infamous after a deadly shootout on the New Jersey Turnpike left a state trooper and her ally, Zayd Malik Shakur, dead. Wounded, captured, and eventually convicted of murder, Assata always maintained her innocence, insisting she had been framed by a system determined to silence Black radicals.

Escape and Exile

In 1979, Shakur made a daring prison escape with the help of comrades. After years underground, she surfaced in Cuba, where Fidel Castro’s government granted her political asylum in 1984. There, in exile, she built a quieter life — teaching, raising her daughter, and reflecting on the path that had brought her so far from home.

It was in Havana that she penned her defining work, Assata: An Autobiography, published in 1987. The book wove together the personal and the political, chronicling not just her life story but also the broader context of Black struggle in America. With prose that was fierce yet intimate, it became essential reading for activists, students, and anyone seeking to understand how personal conviction collides with the machinery of state power.

The Final Chapter

Shakur’s death in Havana closed a story that the United States long sought to rewrite. For decades, American authorities demanded her extradition, while supporters campaigned to keep her safe in Cuba. Even as she aged in relative quiet, her image appeared on murals, protest banners, and syllabi across the world.

At the time of her passing, her daughter, Kakuya Shakur, wrote movingly: “At approximately 1:15 pm, my mother, Assata Shakur, took her last earthly breath.” Those words confirmed what many feared but knew was inevitable: a revolutionary who had lived most of her adult life in exile would also die far from the land of her birth.

A Legacy That Lives On

Assata Shakur’s legacy is not neat. It was never meant to be. She represents the contradictions of American history — the dream of freedom and the reality of oppression, the call for justice and the fear of rebellion. Her autobiography remains a cornerstone text, one that still inspires new generations to question, resist, and imagine.

In death, as in life, Assata Shakur refuses to be forgotten. Her story continues to ripple through classrooms, protests, and cultural memory. Exiled, hunted, celebrated, condemned — she was all of these things. But above all, she was a witness to her times and a voice that refused silence.

Eric Benét’s latest album, The Co-Star, is not just a comeback—it’s a statement on collaboration, humility, and the power of shared voices. After nearly a decade without a full-length project, Benét returns with a concept album built entirely on duets with some of the most captivating women in R&B, soul, and beyond.

From the opening track, the message is clear: Benét isn’t here to dominate—he’s here to blend, to complement, and to co-star. This approach allows artists like Ari Lennox, Alex Isley, Keri Hilson, and Judith Hill to bring their individuality forward, while Benét provides a steady and graceful balance.

Highlights include the smooth yet assertive “Gaslight” with Ari Lennox, the tender “Remember Love” alongside Alex Isley, and the fiery gospel-tinged “Southern Pride” with Judith Hill. Each collaboration feels purposeful, not just for star power, but for the way the voices and stories intertwine. The closing track, “Eres Mi Vida” with Pia Toscano, adds a lush, cross-cultural flavor that ties the project together with warmth and intimacy.

What makes The Co-Star stand out is its intentional restraint. There are no moments of ego or excess—Benét leans into maturity, choosing grace over flash. The pacing is calm but confident, with songs that allow space for harmonies and emotions to breathe. At times, the mid-tempo flow risks blending together, but the emotional honesty keeps the listener engaged.

Ultimately, The Co-Star is a celebration of partnership. It’s an album that proves Eric Benét still belongs in the conversation of contemporary R&B, not because he takes center stage, but because he knows when to step aside. It’s soulful, refreshing, and deeply respectful of the genre’s collaborative spirit.