InkMyAfrica
  • Reads 13,449
  • Votes 957
  • Parts 21
  • Time 44m
  • Reads 13,449
  • Votes 957
  • Parts 21
  • Time 44m
Complete, First published Dec 03, 2016
A poor African girl is sent to America all by herself to get a better life. Shipped to an all white foster home wasn't a good plan because no rich white family wants a poor African. After being in the home for 13 years, she moved out and ventured her new home country America. She was Indeed smart, the foster home teachers would always say. She had many choices for college, but she chose The Juilliard School in New York, New York. She wanted to become model. Being a model will show all the features and her gorgeous color of skin her homeland Africa gave her. 


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Healing Ivan Wattys2015 by suckerforfictions
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*please I wrote this story at 16/17. I'm 28 and I crying because I would rewrite this in a heartbeat especially coz I sound crazy* so read with caution* I fell in love. I fell in love with a fairytale. Oh Yes I did. You know that one story that gives every little girl hope out there that good things comes to those who wait even in rare but simple gems like a glass slipper. This hope carried me far and beyond. It's a fairytale that is relatable to any prospect of life. There will be your evil stepmother and evil stepsisters, your fairy godmother and your one true prince. It is a fairytale that understands the element of surprise: That what we seek can sometimes appear right in front of us without knocking on our doors. Most especially, it's a fairytale that understand the importance of love: A true prince may not come in shape of perfection but regardless of the imperfections and flaws, he would still remain perfect in your eyes. Regardless of its flaws, Africa was my father and Nigeria was my prince. Africa was my birthplace, born to the greatest warriors on the planet: Shaka Zulu, Nelson Mandela, Cleopatra, Kofi Annan even Didier Drogba the famous footballer. Most especially it was my home. It was the place I learnt to walk, talk, run and now 200000 feet above the ground I look down at my home. Little lights flickering everywhere like fireflies contrasting with the dark night. Maybe one day I will come back to my father. My prince. My Ile.
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Skin Color Doesn't Matter

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*WARNING, NOT EDITED* Ashley was in her Senior year of High school. She is 17. She has had a wonderful high school experience and is ready to finish strong for her last year. What she didn't know was that her friend's boyfriend's friend would become very close to her. She would soon go through some things she had never experienced. She and her bestfriend, Mercedes, have been friends since they were little. She didnt really have any friends because of her skin color. Ashley's mom was African American and her father left when she was little. Her mother found someone who would treat her better. Ashley has 2 little siblings. A little brother and a little sister. She wasn't the richest out there but she was happy with what she had. She had 2 jobs so she could get out of the small town of Roseville. When she meets this guys, she didn't know how hard it was going to be. She didn't know she was going to be judged because of her class. She also didn't know her skin color mattered.