My Melanin, My Insecurities…

You might think African women have no insecurities about their skin color then you are in for a surprise.

How African’s perceive beauty is what makes everyone else more sub conscious about their skin color. No one wants to be dark. It has come to that point that when they describe someone dark, they use “she is almost Sudanese black”.

I have got neighbours, had class mates who were Sudanese and they have a complexion close to Purple. Dark purple and imagine if I constantly berated about my skin color how about them? I do it. I just did it now.

Kids are mean. They don’t know their names but identity them as ” Akina Sudanese” (the sudanese Guys) Not by their names and after they have gone I am suddenly overwhelmed by the guilt of not correcting my nephew. Telling him to go ask their names. 

I am in a country where they identify you by your tribe. If you don’t mention your Mother or fathers name then based on your complexion they will unconciously put you on a category. 

(“Anaka Mkamba”)(“she looks like a kamba”) but I grew up and wondered why I felt humiliated and angry when they thought of me as a Jaluo. I wanted to scratch my skin out. I remember joining college and there was this girl so tall, slender and I almost turned lesbian for her. She was so beautiful. She was a Jaluo and I came out of that prejudiced opinion that I had formed. 

That darkness doesn’t mean ugly. 

Brown skin is the popular skin color to be and the pointy. (“Pointy in which I don’t know how it even means what it means. Pointy is what we refer to Interracial babies.) The ones who you know one of their Parents are White or Arab or Asian…etc.

You will find most women just sleep with them foreign men just to have their beautiful babies…and before we know it. We are all going to be yellow skinned. 

The skin issue has gotten to the point of bleaching. Now those that do it are stupid on another level because you will discover they bleached their faces, neck and arms and perhaps forgot about their legs. 

There is this crave to not be dark and I still feel insecure about it but I am slowly starting to love this complexion of mine. 

But like when I say “I am fat” I didn’t mean I was ugly just fat. So when I say I am dark, don’t tell me that I am Still pretty like you need to console me.


Taking a break from looking pretty.

The big chop is not for everyone and i am taking a break from looking pretty.

You should the see the amount of selfies i have taken. None. What is making it worse?

I got this job at an auto spare shop where i just have this overalls that just perfectly fits me in with the other men, disregarding the fact that i am a total girl who loves all things pink and purple and cries aaaa lot in movies and as well talks in them. Loves romance books, i am such a girl, to my dainty soft hands. How i got this job is beyond me. Thank heavens i do not do the hard work. I am busy writing delivery’s and invoices, receipts. Taking the cash.

When people come to buy some second hand spare parts they blink twice when i speak because. Hey! i am girl. What made you aware?

Oh i don’t know. Your curiously very soft tiny voice resembling like a child. I am having an identity crisis here. I am considering going to job all grunged up in baggy jeans and a big hoodie and peeling my sparkly studs out but my voice will just destroy my character.

Anyway. As long as my 24 year old body stays where i work and my hairstyle? my disaster big chop. I’ll just take a huge break from looking pretty.

and you know what kills my buzz? No hot men to drool at, you know? Like those steamy romance books i read with hot men resembling Vikings. *sigh*



I have only one List in my Bucket.

To not be alone on Christmas again. This will be in my every year list.

I am tired of it. Makes my heart heavy. Nothing important. Breaks my heart. My heart aches. 


Death After the Big Chop?

There is that assumption that once you chop your hair that you are done with the hair business. Done with going to salons or the expensive maintenance.

I have someone in my life that is dedicated to complaining about my worry over the hair.

When I ask her how much box braids would cost and she looks at me as if I cursed the ground under her feet. 

With which she answers. (I do not know. What ? Are you tired of your hair already? You chopped your hair. Forget about the salon.)

While in fact my head is swirling with countless ideas of what to do with my hair. 

What she wants me to keep to one style? Its not why I cut my hair. I didn’t chop my hair because I got tired of hair. In fact I love it and I chopped it for the natural hair. 

This is my journey where I experiment every shit available that’s going to make me and my hair look beautiful without relaxing my hair.

She then begins to mention how expensive short hair is. I want to tell her beauty isn’t cheap or easy. I don’t plan on staying short you know! 

I plan on loving the natural curls on my head because I got them. Patience. 

I am learning.

Learning about the hair products.

I have so Much planned for this head. 

When I had the relaxed hair. I was always worried about my hair getting wet. My hair cutting. Saving for my retouch after every two months.

Having limited styles on my head. Now I am all over Pinterest searching every thing. 


First days in my new job.

Well let’s say I said it was awesome soon.

Its just been three days.I am experiencing.

1: Doubt.

My  co workers all speak my mother tongue Kikuyu that I was not fortunate to speak. 

They speak to me in Swahili the national language and you can’t help it but think they speak about me when they turn to speaking Kikuyu. 

But I am sure they talk about Me because they speak in Kikuyu and lower their voice. 

My other mistake. This was embarrassing. 

I used the toilet which I hadn’t known at that time but it was the bosses toilet and there was no water. So imagine the horror of asking them where to fetch water and this woman had seen me and as I was walking out with the bucket to fetch. They were like (Oh my Godding) me in Kikuyu. *you know? Like OMG she didn’t go there! And she didn’t flash?* 

Like hello!! I was heading to fetch the water. 

Then they resulted to tell me that we don’t use that toilet. Too late. I want to bury myself underground.

I am tempted to snap at them to stop talking in Kikuyu but what can I do? 


Tonight i have a connection to you.

I hold her in my arms. She licks her hand and I look outside my curtain drawned window. So bare and I see you.

Shinning down at me like a beacon in the night. I always whisper words to you. Sometimes so nonsensical that I laugh. 

Tonight. I whisper to you. So bright giving me light in the dark. 

The clouds keep you from me. They like an army gathered together to block you from me.

“Baby girl. 

The moon…look. It shines just for us. Shines despite the obstacles. 

Look. The cloudy army guards again flowing past but look like they aren’t moving,  Keeping us from such beautiful light.”

Such a beautiful night.


Co-Existing together in Peace.

So, where I leave. Kenya, Nairobi. South C. As your heading to Bandari Villas. 

As i walk the long dusty stretch home. There is a sight that out stands me and makes me happy and proud. 

I pass a Catholic church and then next to it, I cross the Mosque next to it. 

And there has been no quarrel. There has been peace. They co-exist together. Makes me wonder why some in the world can’t.