Prayers for ”Wussam” Supa Cent, Crayon Case, CEO

Raynell Steward, aka Wussam Supa Cent, was recently hospitalized for short term memory lapses and her loyal fans have taken to the internet with loving support.

Supa’s friend, Darealbbjudy, posted a picture of herself with Supa in the hospital. In the caption, she wrote:

“We are trying to deal with this personally, but fully understand that she is a public figure. We bring her to places that she requests when things are going good so we can go over memories and let her enjoy  she likes to talk about memories and things…..but she is not herself sometimes so although WE ALL KNOW she’s said many of times that she’ll take a pic with anyone…unfortunately right now that’s not the case….yesterday for example we went out to eat after we were done we were waiting on valet someone yelled “SUPA, remember me from such and such”…she didn’t even respond and he seemed disappointed but at that EXACT moment she didn’t know he was even talking to her. She turned and asked me and Tok “am I Supa?” So please don’t feel bad when we say she can’t take pics or if her responses are off. We would just keep her inside but she has been wanting to go places “when she’s good” PLEASE JUST KEEP PRAYING FOR MY SISTER.”


Supa has been posting pictures of herself in the hospital asking her fans to pray for heras well as stated on IG:

“I feel normal now, but it’s still some things I don’t even know,” she said. I’m going on my timeline, went to my thing and saw I had a whole f–kin’ event. They said the event was big. I had an after-party and all of that. I didn’t know anything about that. I knew about it, but it’s like all of that interrupted my memory. First of all, I never known that was possible to happen. That’s what f–ked me up. When the doctor told me what was wrong, I didn’t even think that was possible. Like how can something alter my memory? It’s weird.”

“The reason I went public with it, first of all, y’all know I’m open anyway. I was going to go public anyway, but they was telling me to wait until I talk to the proper neurologist,” she said. “I don’t remember nothing from a few weeks ago. It’s just weird.”

If you were born and raised in New Orleans and you understand our culture, how we protect those we love, and our firm belief in prayer, you would appreciate and respect for Supa’ family wishes.

I’m only writing because it’s what I do. Like all of you, I’m praying Supa recovers so that she can get back to her routine.

I ask that you join Supa’s family, friends, and fans in keeping her lifted in prayer.

Shop at https://thecrayoncase.com/

If you all remember the famed restauranteur and former model Barbara Smith, known as B. Smith, 64, who revealed that she has Alzheimer’s and her acceptance of her husband’s live in girlfriend.

Smith’s diagnosis and gradual decline (she has gone from the mild to the moderate stage since they first went public in mid-2014) — it’s also a call to action, particularly for African Americans.


Two out of three people with Alzheimer’s disease are women. Blacks are two to three times more likely to have Alzheimer’s. We have to be proactive in taking care of ourselves and support our sisters. Most of us fly through the day as if we are SuperWoman, and our blood pressure is sky high. We have to get to the bottom of this. Too many young black women are suffering from an unfortunate lack of self-care because we are so busy taking care of others.


A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: