Gbosa!

Our Society has crashed.

We thought we finally killed the goose when black women started embracing their natural hair…nope; we’ve still got a long way to go.

I see lots of ‘whitening’ products clear like magic from the shelves of the retail store down the road – and I wonder, what the heck is going on?

Why do black people mock darker skinned people by calling them names like ‘blackie’ or ‘charcoal’?

Why do most of my male friends go on and on in captivation of one yellow babe they saw shaking like Indian eba?

Why exactly do the dark babes want to be yellow babes?

And why do the yellow babes want to be yellower babes?

Wait oh, when did ‘yellow’ even become associated with race and skin tone? Gosh, I think I might slap the next guy that calls me yellow.

I am a proud, black, African woman who refuses to be referred to as yellow – even though I know most girls would die for this derogatory title.

I guess people just naturally want what they don’t have; I hear the blacks be bleaching and the whites be tanning.

But what exactly makes black people so interested in the whole ‘light-skin’ thing?

The answer, my friend, lies embedded in the black man’s colonial mentality of wanting to be like oyinbo.

Inferiority has become a parasite in our psyche with Nigerians doing a lot of European things and Europeans doing nothing Nigerian.

No wonder a Nigerian man would wear thick suits under the hot merciless sun, while a European man would probably never be caught wearing agbada in the cold.

How can a number of Nigerian schools spend years teaching European history when the students don’t even know who Oba Ovoranmen is?

I don’t even know who Oba Ovoranmen is! But I know Florence Nightingale… is it good?

This is why I feel a certain way when I see Nigerians flouncing around the place with English names, claiming that their fellow Nigerians won’t be able to pronounce their ‘unattractively complicated’ name. Don’t get me wrong, I like English names. I have an English name, but I won’t introduce myself with it; I am African first.

I mean, would a British man name his son Chukwuemeka? Exactly!

I think it’s so beautiful that Nigerian kids are given traditional names with carefully thought-out meanings. This is definitely a culture we should try to preserve.

Please oh, no more fancy sounding English names with unknown meanings! Biko!

I’m sure my little rant has probably left some people wondering if I’m racist. Nah…I actually have a couple of white acquaintances friends.

So back to my main point; we need to rise up as Africans and embrace our culture, embrace our values, and even embrace our colour in order for us to lose certain unnecessary insecurities and build our empire into something we can be proud of – something worth emulating.

Imagine the fragile mentality of a little African child, making fun of another child, calling him ojuju or even black shit. Kaii! It’s just so pathetic; when did the intensity of a man’s skin tone outline as worthy of mockery?

Me, I’m still trying to rap my head around the reason why majority of Nigerians prefer white pounded yam to black amala.

Isoken is an undergraduate of the Pan-Atlantic University; currently studying for a degree in Media & Communication. She has always been interested in creative writing and from the age of 6, and has written a vast number of poems, public speeches, newspaper articles, and short stories. She won the 2013 National Essay Competition organised by the YSCC (Youth Support Counseling Consult) along with the opportunity to tour the U.K upon her victory.