by Ezinne Ukoha

President Obama is awesome, but First Lady Michelle Obama is where it’s at — and now that she’s passing the torch to Melania Trump — there is the urgent need to purge out the atmosphere of disbelief and regret.

We can finally express why it’s unfathomable that she will no longer be Queen of the Hill.

In order to give Michelle Obama her due, we would have to go back to how she carved out the pieces of her youth with the losses and discouragement she accommodated as a Black girl — and combine it with her eventual willpower and ambition — which are acute symptoms of what America demands from all who inhabit its corners of freedom.

Obama’s past naturally shaped her perspective and gave her the audacity to accept the winning ticket to success without flinching. Despite being cautioned about her lofty tendencies in the midst of others — who happened to be more aesthetically fit for such things — Michelle Robinson was determined to make her late father proud but more than that, she knew that the hue of her skin could either make or break her.

She chose to be made in the image of all that is holy — and this has nothing to do with the Book of Ecclesiastes. It’s about the manuscripts she devoured with the fortitude of a future attorney who wanted to maximize her worth — by proving how and why she earned the right to be a Black woman — with a prestigious degree who is admitted into a practice that designates power to all who qualify.

Yes, she became a career woman, yes, she met a handsome fellow who she couldn’t resist and thank God for that! Who knew that the collision of like-minded souls could end up rearranging the constitution — embedded in a time capsule that will never be reduced to a dusty relic.

What we have here is a situation that protrudes through the pointed imagination of those of us who dream big, but somehow missed the tour of what life can be like when the impossible magically changes status.

I heard Eleanor Roosevelt was quite the lady. She was forthright and generous. Jackie Kennedy remains the most revered First Lady of our time. There are countless depictions by illustrious actresses — commissioned to reenact how she tolerated JFK’s numerous affairs — and still managed to remain brilliantly accessible — through effortless renovations and uncanny knowledge of world affairs.

Our current and outgoing First Lady won’t have to be reduced to a spouse with enough brain power to be sporadically outspoken — despite the regulations of her era. She won’t be polished and displayed as the great beauty who was victimized by her husband’s indiscretions, but still managed to dress the part.

Black women are lazily labeled as tempestously combative. Michelle Obama was tough and able to take it. She withstood the syndrome of being packaged the way White America feels safe enough to neatly dice and roll up without suffering any cuts or bruises.

She took the shit from verbal welders who like to restore the worn out rhetoric that plagues women of color who don’t resemble the wallpapers that can easily tear without much effort. From the unpleasant themes and memes to the recycled unfunny jokes— Obama has endured the whippings that regular Black girls internalize and then lash out with defensive tempo — as they wonder what heights the threshold will reach, before it buckles.

The answer arrived the night we saw the First Family wave and take a bow.

It was a night on acid without the creepy moving parts and with the sweat that doesn’t leave a stench but rather strokes the pores to comfort. There they were — but most importantly — there she was!

We will miss Michelle Obama more, because we never actually believed that a Black woman would claim The White House as her place of residence without a laugh track to accompany the absurdity.

We will miss this First Lady more than the President because she wasn’t coerced into functional secrecy. She was an open roster — filled with the evidence of her intentions and markings of why her legacy won’t have to wait until she is laying in the sun — days after she relinquishes her role.

She fought for the voices and faces of a generation that never stood a chance against the bombastic machine of White men — and their eager habit of convincing an entire community that their mere existence pales in comparison to more valued counterparts.

Black men get it bad all the time, Black women get it bad all the time and then some, because their own men often bash them for the punishment that they get all the time.

It’s a sickening cycle that shifted gears once the First Lady decided to dress up in garments that aided lesser-known American designers, while also crafting her masterpiece.

It’s a stunner! Filled with never-ending collages that symbolize the young girls all over the globe that almost died without a name. It showcases the need for a healthier climate for children who can’t escape the murkiness of their fragile palettes.

But, let’s face it — all this stuff I’m going on about is a long-winded road to the destination of primal validation.

Black women felt celebrated on Inauguration Day 2009. That was the day we were miraculously restored from our dormant dispositions. Not even a blessing from The Pope could cleanse the barbaric antidotes that regulate women of color to the sidelines of constant estimations of why we were born to lie.

Michelle Obama told the truth all day every day and she did it without the longing of applause.

We will miss her more because she was a woman of independent means who didn’t surrender to the schemes of detractors who tried but failed to taint her collection of hits that will play on without threats of an outage.

We will miss you, Michelle Obama, because you were a Black woman with the arrow aimed at releasing us from the grip of centuries of bondage that still open and close with grimacing candor.

Thankfully, your reach surpasses the stringent requirements that were bolted into place— until you stood on the lawn and gave the mixed crowd authority over the administrations that labeled them rejects.

You did the damn thing! And the rooms will hold the sway of your contributions even as the individuals of your choice rejoice with biblical assurance of your immense womanhood and blackness.

We will absolutely miss you more — and suffer less for the sheer joy of having you as our lifelong reference.

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Op–ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija