Omolara is a young dark skinned black girl who is subjected to colorism from all corners of her community including her own family. One day however, she gets into a disagreement with a light skinned black women over DNA which plants a dangerous i...
Sometimes, like now, I can't help but sit on my bed and look back at my past. I'm going to be 20 soon and I'm entering my third year at university. My teenage years sure were hectic. (Vibration) There goes my phone. I've got a text.
"Omolara. Your Grandmothers asked for you. She's going to die. Why won't you respond? Don't you care?" - unknown.
It's mum again. No mum I don't care. I stopped considering that evil old bitch as my grandmother years ago when I was 15. That same bitch who refused to hold and care for me because she didn't hold dark skin babies. That same bitch who forced me to stay inside while my light skin cousins could play out without me because it was sunny outside. That same bitch who relaxed my hair when I was 7 then shaved it all off when it got damaged causing me to be subjected to bullies at school. Now she's dying of terminal cancer and I could care less. Not my problem. Bitch had what was coming to her. Only problem is my so called family want me to visit her before she dies. Not happening! I'm not even going to go to her funeral. I'm 19 years old now and I've basically cut most of my family out of my life. I've stopped responding to texts and deleted all there numbers, I just have to get them blocked or buy a new phone which I haven't got the money for at the moment.
I played with my twisted out, curled, 4c hair which YouTube videos have taught me how to care for. Not even my family taught me that. I even had to teach myself what a family was and that shit fest load of blood relatives don't deserve the title of family. Maybe I've let myself fill up with hatred but you know what? So the fuck what? Living in this world, I have every right to my negative emotions.
It was 3 years ago. I was 16. My family where attending a BBQ round one of my aunts, I refused to go. That was the day I packed up all my valuables into a suit case and travelled by taxi with some of my brothers stolen money to a distant relative, Aunt Platinum who's dark skinned like me and the only kind relative I know. I turned up at her door step at 16 years old and when she answered, I said these words. "Please. I will kill myself if I can't live with you."
She of course took sympathy and allowed me to live with her. My mum reported me missing, the way I just up and vanished without any warning caused a storm. Platinum contacted the police station to tell them every things fine and I'm with her. Being 16, I was old enough to move out. None the less, my mum and aunt turned up at her house to confront me about leaving. I barricaded my new bedroom door and stayed silent behind the door. Looking back, I'm happy I did that.
"OMOLARA! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW! I SWEAR I WILL SLAP YOU UP IF YOU DON'T!" Mum screamed. Mum how are you supposed to slap me up if you can't get in?
Not to brag but my only talent is my physical strength. I've always loved sports, working out and breaking a sweat. The gym is my best friend. For the days I couldn't attend the gym, I would work out on my bedroom floor. Anyway, my craving for cortisol andendorphins paid off and I've been left with this fit, slim, strong and toned body as a reward.
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I still to this day am physically stronger then the average person. My strength really came in handy that time when mum was trying to knock down that door. It was a good work out keeping it closed.
"OMOLARA! I mean it! Stop being stupid!" She screamed again. I replied with silence, refusing to feed her any satisfaction of an explanation. She was only screaming because she wasn't getting her way. She couldn't get her explanation of why I left or open my door. I was much much stronger. After an hour of failing to get a response out of me or open my door, she angrily left with my aunt screaming, "FORGET IT! YOU WANT TO STAY HERE! FUCKING STAY HERE THEN!"
The next day, my older brother arrived. I barricaded the door to my new room again and went silent. "Omolara, come on! Mums upset! Just speak to me!" My brother called through the door. Don't care and why the fuck should I speak to him. My brother was one of the ones who bullied me for my dark skin despite us both being the same colour. He always talks to his friends about wanting his women light and sweet like his sugary milk tea. He even goes out of his way to let the world know how much he hates dark skinned hoes as he calls them. Well then big broth, you're making all these generalising statements, what the hell does that make me? But then again it's not all his fault, our light yellow skinned mother drilled that into his head.
"Omolara! Come get your nappy ass hair combed!" I remember my mum calling when I was 4 years old. She used to complain and wrinkle her nose in disgust at my 4c hair. Then months later, when my 4 going on 5 year old self told mummy that I hated my hair. "Stop being stupid Omolara!" Wow! How unsympathetic can you get? All my mother has ever done is criticised me. When I am good at something, it's, "Oh okay." With a shrug. Both me and my brother are accidents so I'm not surprised.
In the end, my brother gave up and shouted, "Forget it!" Before leaving and he didn't come back. I told the entire situation to Aunt Platinum who understands it all too well. She's also dark skinned and unfortunately from the same family. Anyway, all that happened 3 years ago. I do most of the chores and cleaning around the house, I do the cooking and even the shopping. Aunt Platinum is 52 and still works, yet she's been kind enough to let me live with her so this is the least I can do.
As I walked to the supermarket with my notebook and shopping list in it, I crossed paths with my light skinned cousins. The ones who were allowed to play out in the sun and now think they're better looking then me. Their faces lit up in surprise when they saw me but they stayed silent and let me walk past them. They have gotten the message that I don't want anything to do with them. Weeks after I moved into aunt platinum's house and ghosted my family in the process, I saw them when I went out places. They called to me at first but I crossed roads and avoided them. I completely blanked them when they tried to speak to me. I ran into my mum one time in town.
"Omolara! Don't ignore me! Who the hell do you think you are being this ungrateful bitch all this time! Moving out and ignoring everyone!" I continued walking away ignoring her. "OMOLARA!" Mum grabbed my arm. I ripped it from her with such force that she nearly fell forward on her face. She went silent and gave up following me after that. I wish I had looked back to see her facial expression.
All my other relatives who tore me apart over my skin tone as a child, I blank. They say hello but then when I don't respond and walk away, they give up. My mum and brother still when they see me stare at me as I walk by. Why can't they all just let me go? I'm not interested. Now grandma's on her death bed, a big big thank you to cancer but even she wants to see me. I won't even text or send a letter and in doing this, I keep my actions stronger then my words. I don't care. After I cooked vegetarian lasagne with garlic bread, I set the table and waited for Aunt Platinum to get home from work before we sat down and ate. Over dinner, I asked. "Hey Aunt Platinum, How did you learn to love your dark skin?"
She answered. "I didn't. I never had the strength to learn to love it. Till this day I still hate my skin tone. I'm just too lazy to bleach it. Hopefully you will be stronger then me Omolara." She gave me a weak, embarrassed smile. That is not what I wanted to hear.
