ÌròyìnWọn loore lọkunrin to ṣegbeyawo pẹlu obinrin mẹrin lọjọ kan ṣoṣo ṣe fun wọn ÌRÒYÌN Wọn loore lọkunrin to ṣegbeyawo pẹlu obinrin mẹrin lọjọ kan ṣoṣo ṣe fun wọn August 6, 2021 Alaroye Ko ṣẹlẹ ri kan ko si, ohun to ba ti waye ti dohun ti aye ri ri naa niyẹn. Ohun tawọn eeyan n sọ lori ayelujara ree latigba ti aworan ọkunrin ọmọ ilẹ Gabon to ṣegbeyawo pẹlu obinrin mẹrin lọjọ kan ṣoṣo ti gori atẹ. Kinni ọhun ko tiẹ jọ awọn mi-in loju, wọn ni olowo ni ọkọ iyawo naa torukọ ẹ n jẹ Mesmine Abessole. Oniṣowo pataki ni wọn mọ ọn si ni Gabon, wọn ni buruku owo wa lọwọ ẹ, bawo waa ni yoo ṣe maa jọọyan loju pe olowo ṣe ohun gbogbo tan. Lọjọ ti oṣu keje pari gan-an, iyẹn ọjọ kọkanlelọgbọn, oṣu keje, ọdun 2021, ni ọkunrin ti wọn n pe ni Abessole yii da ara nla, lọjọ naa lo gbe awọn obinrin mẹrin niyawo, orukọ wọn ni: Madeleine Nguema, Prisca Nguema, Nicole Mboungou ati Carene Sylvana Aboghet. Ibi kan ti wọn n pe ni Libreville, ni Gabon, layẹyẹ igbeyawo naa ti waye. Pasitọ lo so wọn pọ, ko si ẹnikan to ta ko isopọ yii, wọn ko si ka a nibẹ pe ọkunrin kan, obinrin kan ni wọn gbọdọ jọ ṣegbeyawo, bo tilẹ jẹ pe ilana Kristẹni naa ni wọn fi so wọn pọ. Nigba to tiẹ jẹ muṣẹ lawọn iyawo n rẹrin-in, ti ọkọ paapaa n fo fayọ, to duro laarin wọn pẹlu idunnu, ko sẹni kan ti isopọ naa ṣe ajeji lara rẹ ninu awọn to waa ba wọn ṣe e. To ba si ṣajoji, wọn ko sọ ọ jade. Kaka bẹẹ, kaluku n sọ pe àrà ni baba olowo yii fi da ni, wọn ni ẹni to ba to nnkan nla i ṣe naa lo n ṣe iru eyi lawujọ. Awọn eeyan mi-in koro oju si isopọ yii ṣa, wọn ni ko tọna. Ṣugbọn awọn kan sọ pe laye ti obinrin pọ ju ọkunrin lọ yii, ko sohun to buru nibẹ, oore lọkunrin olowo naa ṣe fawọn obinrin to fẹ jare.
Ọjọ́ wo la ó mẹbọ ikú? Ẹ dákun, ìgbà wo la ó mètùtù àlùmúútù? Nígbà wo la ó le pinkú nípá? Tíkú á sinmi fáàrí ìmẹ́ni wa. Òkèèrè ni mo ti mọ Ọ̀jọ̀gbọ́n Yai, Àmọ́ ẹ̀ẹ̀mẹtẹ̀ẹ̀ta tí a sọ̀rọ̀ ni wọ́n bá mi sọ̀rọ̀ bí i Baba sí ọmọ. Bí Bàbá mi Diípọ̀ Fágúnwà àti ìyá mi Yinka Adeboye ti ṣe ròyin wọn gẹ́lẹ́ ni wọ́n rí. Wọn ò kìí yẹ àdéhùn àfi bí ohun mìíràn bá fa ìdíwọ́, wọn yóò sì fi àyípadà náà tóni létí. Wọn ò kì ń fojú kéré ẹni, bí wọ́n ṣe jẹ́ àgbà Ọ̀jọ̀gbọ́n tó, síbẹ̀ wọn ò níwà ìfojú panirẹ́. Inú oṣù kẹrin ọdún yìí ni a jọ ṣe àdéhùn pé a ó rí ra bí wọ́n bá wá sí Naijiria. Kòrónà ló yẹ àdéhùn tí n kò fi làǹfààní láti rí wọn mọ́. Inú Oṣù Kẹfà ni wọ́n sọ pé kí n jẹ́ ká pa ọkàn pọ̀ sọ́dún tó ń bọ̀, Ọ̀jọ̀gbọ́n Yai ní kí n máa ṣiṣẹ́ tèmi lọ a ó máa ríra lọ́dún 2021, Òní ọjọ́ karùn-ún oṣù Kejìlá Ọdún 2020 lỌ̀jọ̀gbọ́n pàtàkì juwọ sáyé. Èyí dùn mi wọnú eégún, Ó kan mí lára wọnú bọ́ọ́gọ́, Àìṣeémú ikú ló jẹ́ n gba kámú. Kí Ọlọ́run ó tẹ́ wọn sí afẹ́fẹ́ rere, Kí gbogbo ohun tí wọ́n fi sílẹ̀ ó má bàjẹ́ láṣẹ Èdùmàrè.
✍️Bùkọ́lá R. Adélékè (2020) (Ìṣẹ̀dálẹ̀ Media Concept)
Musician Femi Ransome-Kuti avoided being trapped by Bretton Wood’s agents in his recent conversation with Zeinab Badawi on BBC’s “Hard Talk” slot. He acquitted himself creditably and did not collapse to singing the tune of those zombies – IMF’s professors – who parade the corridors of power in Nigeria, as he dealt with misleading questions by the BBC’s interviewer. Badawi asserted that President Goodluck Jonathan was improving the people’s lot as certified by the IMF and that the removal of subsidy from petrol was for the general good. How uninformed those foreign-based African journalists, welfare cases, who serve the interests of their principals unreasonably! Should she have made such a categorical statement without facts about growth in Nigeria? Well, Elizabeth Ohene who got into favour with the British by deriding Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah at every turn in Ghana, rose to be BBC’s deputy editor of Network Africa which has been steadily deteriorating in the last 10 years that Robin White quit the stage. It now presents the worst types of news of readers and of presenters. One could pardon errors of possible inflexion in reading news in English but not that of phonetics and phonology. The grammar of presenters, like Akwasi Sarpong’s is awful. Peter Okwoche is not better.
The issue is the subtle support BBC’s staff give to capitalism a la Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan, which has plunged the world into economic chaos, except for some eight years that Bill Clinton reversed it until a worse apostle, George W. Bush, came on the scene to take the world deep into depression. It is now worse than the one suffered under his father’s watch.
Femi Ransome-Kuti gave pride to the memory of his grandfather, Israel Oludotun Ransome-Kuti, as he demolished all attempts by Badawi to justify that things were now rosy in Nigeria. How gratuitously can one sell one’s ignorance as Badawi displayed on the subject!
Femi said that in the 1970s, to be deprived of electricity in Nigeria for two hours was treasonable. Now, Nigerians, even in their new capital, Abuja, do without electric power for days.
Up till the late 1980s, Nigeria was an industrial power in Africa, serving the region’s needs in producing secondary goods. That has collapsed. Until the mid-1990s, Nigeria produced all the petroleum products for local use and for neighbours. It now imports petrol and other products from Benin, Togo and Ivory Coast. What has Jonathan done to alleviate this scourge of scarcity though Nigeria has four mighty refineries that now produce nothing?
Has he repaired the refineries to meet our needs? Must we import petrol? Who are these beneficiaries of the subsidy regime? Were they not the supporters of his campaign? Aliko Dangote opened one mighty cement factory manned mainly by Chinese workers. What has happened to Nkalagu, Ukpilla, Gboko and others that have been rendered moribund by bad government policy of the wholesale privatisation that the likes of Badawi are made to canvass for their principals?
Millions of Nigerian young men and women are estimated to be jobless. What has Jonathan done to scratch the surface on the subject of full and gainful employment with all the industries in Nigeria lying fallow, also from bad government policy? Visit Ikeja, Iganmu, Ogba, and Otta in the South-west kand see the damage the IMF and World Bank’s agents have done to Africa. Madam Badawi does not know that the names of the World Bank and IMF stink in Nigeria. Justifiably, Nigerians regard them as enemies as Dennis Healey, Britain’s Chancellor of Exchequer under Harold Wilson, once described them. Mrs Ngozi Okonjo-Iwealla, Jonathan’s economic miracle worker, is treated as a national youth service corps intern by those who planned the fortune Nigeria enjoyed in the 1960s, 1970s and part of the 1980s, that period of old that was egalitarian paradise. No policy can work without the mobilisation of the people. Nigerians do not know what Jonathan stands for, except that he still pursues the rot left behind by Olusegun Obasanjo and Atiku Abubakar, two agents of the IMF’s privatisation project that set Nigeria back. It is gratifying that the court has just reversed the swindle of the sale of the Aluminum Smelting Company that the government spent billions of dollars to establish. It was one grievous bodily harm done to Nigeria to have sold a company worth $2 billion for $245 million! It was Ibrahim Babangida, earning $8 per barrel of oil, who established that company. How many were built under Obasanjo’s laisez faire regime? He sold it when Nigeria earned $100 per barrel from crude. It will be repeating oneself to speak of the illegalities of the sales of corporations established by acts of parliament and decrees for a song.
The National Assembly should take further steps to return the Nigeria Airways and other affected corporations to their old status. How can there be growth when Nigeria’s industrial life is comatose? The only thing Nigeria sells today is crude oil. She does not even enjoy the benefit of its derivatives. If we must ask, what is the octane rating of imported petrol from Ivory Coast and Benin? The Dana airline’s crash was said to have been caused by corrosion of its engine by impure fuel. Vehicles, machines and other plants that use imported fuel, have suffered from government incompetence. BBC has shot itself in the leg.
Femi really made his grandfather proud in his face-off with with Badawi, – a grandfather, who disagreed with the British in 1934 and caused the Yaba Higher College to be founded and in 1948 forced the University of Ibadan to be established. Nigeria must terminate this one-line chorus of “no government in business’’ because China, a command economy, has disproved that crazy talk. Germany is not laisez faire and it leads Europe.
Fade To Black: Skin-Bleaching Models Banned From Dakar Fashion Week
20 comments
July 25, 2013 ‐ By Lauren R.D. Fox
Source: Omar Victor Diop/ Dakar Fashion Week
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
One can blame white supremacy or colonization for the mental conditioning Blacks have endured, but finally in the African diaspora’s fashion industry, a change has come. Adama Ndiaye, founder of Senegal’s Dakar Fashion Week, has put her foot down on beauty practices used by the models who participated in Dakar Fashion Week this year. Many women in Senegal, as well as other countries have turned to skin bleaching to achieve lighter skin and this year Ndiaye banned any models who decided to participate in what she calls depigmentation. She states:
“It’s not even pretty, for me, it’s just a turn off.”
Ndiaye’s purpose for the ban is to teach the models about their self-esteem; she also noted the health of the models’ who have bleached their skin is at risk. According to Dermatologist Fatoumata Ly:
These ladies bare the telltale signs of long-term bleaching: blotches of discoloured skin on their arms and faces. Women often use prescription-strength corticosteroid creams to lighten their skin. “When absorbed into the bloodstream, corticosteroids pose serious risks, particularly for the heart,” she said. Skin cancer is also a potential side effect.
Although skin bleaching is a dangerous, it is still widely used in Black communities throughout the world. There are many who do not believe (or are told), their skin complexion is attractive. Growing up in a Caribbean family, my great-aunts who were born into a colonized society often offered my cousins and I skin bleaching lotion when we enjoyed too much time in the sun. Although others would find their actions insulting, I believe this provides great insight. My aunts were born in the early 1900s. Not only did they want to speak the Queen’s English but they wanted to have her fair skin (although they have a café-au-lait skin tone). In many ways, the time period they were born in and its complexities gave them a pass to their ignorance. They did not know better; they are only using what they know. So why is this practice still being used in the Millennial generation? Even better, why do (some) Black women participate in #TeamLightSkin or #TeamDarkSkin debates as though they get a cookie for skin color pride. To be comfortable in one’s skin means to not be dependent on something that is conditional. Beauty trends are constantly evolving; what we think is beautiful today, may not be tomorrow.
Thankfully, some people in Senegal are getting that message. When asked what she thought about Ndiaye’s ban on skin-bleaching, one model, Dorinex Mboumba, responded:
“I think it’s a great idea, it will discourage others from the practice. We don’t need to change the color of our skin to be beautiful.”
BLACK-SKINNED WOMEN: QUEEN MOTHERS OF THE BLACK RACE AND ALL BEAUTY!
Why do I sing Praises of your Beautiful, Black, ebony,velvet skin,”Blacker than the sky at midnight”{1},your full mushroomed mouth, your beautiful broad nose, your generous “Congo hips” {2}and full-flowered backside? Because for too long many of the Black Race have abused, dishonored you, degraded and denied you your crown, Queen of Queens,Queen Mother of the Black Race, Black Beauty Supreme! From you all the beauty of the Black Race springs forth.In fact all the world’s beauty springs from you,Mother of all beauty of all the races of the world! Your Black midnight,licorice,dark black chocolate,beauty, is Blackness concentrated in your beautiful “Black-blueberry”{3} face!
First in the order of creation is always given respect by Afrikan tradition. The 1st wife, the 1st elder, the 1st kingdom, the 1st original inhabitants, of the earth-all are considered with honor. So it should be with Black Beauty-our darkest -skinned Sisters are the 1st Mothers of the Universe-Black as a color came before all the many tones of brown,red,yellow and white. But for too long our Dark-skinned Queens have not been given the respect and place of honor they deserve. IN FACT THE WHITE BOY HAS INTIATED the cycle of reversing the true order of things by turning upside down the pyramid of Beauty, and placing white-light on top and relegating the most beautiful Black-skinned Beauties to rock bottom!
So Black people have been taught well how to deny our most
beautiful one her crown, taught how to reject our Blackest, most Afrikan features, full lips and nose and mouth and woollest hair, for the weaker characteristics of the white race. Shame on Black people! When will we wake up to this Black Beauty concentrated, from whence all our lesser beauty comes. When will we give the crown of crowns,the throne of thrones, to the Blackest Queen of Queens?
Most of us who suffer from”mulatto-mentality” and “yellow fever”, as Fela, our great Nigerian Musician calls it, will go on and on about what about us lighter queens-aren’t we/they beautiful too, yet you/we should be aware that such queens have gotten all the play in the past and that even in Black Egypt one of the reasons for its downfall was the allowing the lighter ones of the race, to place themselves above the rest of us in the name of lightness and pride of light-closer/to/whiteness. So if we’re yellow,to light brown/red, then we should give respect where respect is due and not live off of the artificial white thrill of having “white features” as if it is an advantage. Where would you be without your BLACKEST great Grandmother? We should honor the Blackest part of ourselves, thus giving us true pride of Blackness, not verbal signifyin’ but real testifyin’ that BLACK is beautiful! If the Blackest, most Afrikan-featured Sister isn’t respected as the Supreme Beauty of the Race,the Black woman’s beauty is not really respected at all for what it really is(only in terms of how closer to white we look). We all reflect the strengths of this concentrated beauty in ourselves, all the manifestations of how Blackness can present itself are seen in our faces. Down to the milk-lightest of us, our Blackness is what dominates us whether physically or mentally. But the Mother is greater than the child and so the Blackest is greater than all the other tones of the Black Race. If we don’t respect our Blackest Queen, we don’t respect our True Black selves. We must have a Black value for BLACKNESS in features and skin tone. We must have a Black Standard of Beauty based on the Black-skinned woman. ALL PRAISES DUE TO OUR BLACK-SKINNED QUEEN-MOTHERS!
Sister Yeye Akilimali Funua Olade
1981,Lagos,Nigeria
BLACK NOTES: Let me give tribute to Brother Damu,House of Umoja(San Francisco) for{1}
{2}Brother O.O. Gabugan in the poem “Black Queen For a Day”,{3}Sister Sonia Sanchez in her poem “,Queens of the Universe”,for the quoted words used in the first part of this article.
GABOUREY SIDIBE IS A BIG BLACK SKINNED BEAUTY WHO HAS BROKEN THE IMITATION WHITE GIRL GLASS STANDARD OF BEAUTY!
BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL! 