Written piece
African Woman
Asha Taban
Uganda
About this piece
African Woman is a powerful exploration of identity, colorism and the reclamation of self worth in a colorist society. The poem criticizes vices like internalised racism while reframing societal standards, reclaiming black skin as the blueprint rather than a rejection to beauty.
AFRICAN WOMAN
Growing up, I wanted to be a boy
Not because I didn’t want to be a girl
No! it was because I wanted to be a girl so bad
A girl so hot, a girl so fly, with skin so light, hips slight,
Lips tight, hair straightened…
But I was none of those things; so the beauty standard rejected me
The boys, rejected me and well I figured I could just join them.
Growing up I told myself not to like pink or yellow, orange or purple
I was black and ugly and black girls don’t dream in color
How could I even want color if my skin wore a coat of darkness?
Darkness, midnight, blackberry, muluulu, mudokolo, gulu
The shock I had realizing that not everyone had the opportunity I had
All I needed was my skin color to expose how hateful the human race is.
Growing up, I didn’t hear sweet endearments
Rather poetry, that my family sang to me, verse by verse
Of my differences, my darker skin and Northern routes
At school I’d dance to the tango of
You’re too dark for a girl, what are you?
Are you Acholi, lugbar or dinka, Kopango! Is it true you eat birds?
While in the streets, grown up men and women
Would look at a child with so much hatred, talking about
Ekyaana nga kidugavu nyo. | as the child is too dark
I wish this skin had come with an instruction manual.
I wish I was told that you would be hated by your dark brother for
Being the darker brother
That your routes can be African but not your skin color
You can be Ugandan, just not Northern Ugandan
I wish I had been born knowing that my brothers and sisters
Still suffer the generational trauma of racism and from it
They begot, colorism – and so they hate anything that reminds them of who they truly are.
2014, July, a young man says not to my face but to my heart
I didn’t know darkness can move during day
Another once said with my color, nsome nyo ebitabbo | focus on your studies
Another had no problem with dark skinned girl but okay like 8 pm dark
Not midnight dark.
Those statements were not as hurtful as the fact that,
Growing up in Africa, I never heard them come from
A white skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, Caucasian
Every single derogatory term I was called
Comment I was told
"We dare Asha Taban to take a selfie in the dark," as I was once trolled
always came from my own kin, a brother of the land
A boy birthed by dark skinned thighs demanding to get in-between light ones
A girl who has not only soaked her skin in bleach, but her heart as well
From a mother boxed up by her own limitations
She’d suggest I brighten up a bit
This is real black people hypocrisy.
How can you be proudly African, but hate the dark Africans
If we’re all black; aren’t the darkest ones of us royalty, then?
You drown yourself in bleach then come at me for having an ugly color
The original color, your original color.
I hated when people called me blue black
But yes, I’m the blue print- this dark skin is the original
Darkness existed before the world was born
And is it not what you see last before you die
I’m glad my skin is like tar
Tar that holds together all of humanity
I’m glad when you see me you see Africa
The ancestors chose this color for me to remind me of our power
To remind you of your power
I’m glad I’m the reflection of your self-hatred, black brother.
Talk about not wanting a dark woman because you are also already dark
How do you not taste that self-hatred rolling off of your tongue?
So smoothly like a song that has been passed on generation to generation.
Generational self-hatred.
I’m glad I’m a reminder of the beauty and power you had before this new color you paid for.
But hey, the truth is, your African heart was bleached long before you got the money
To bleach your skin as well.
I’m beyond glad that I am
A girl so dark, with nose so wide, lips so full, intellect so high, hips so wide.
Now that I’ve grown up
I’m glad I embody the true African woman.
TABAN ASHA