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)
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.”
An architectural triumph, aren’t they? I mean, whether slim, medium or large, they consistently declare themselves the very model of what women of all races ought to look like…but don’t.
Every time I do a status on Black women’s aesthetic, sensuality or their physical form, I run the risk of sounding like a scratched record…well,
so shall it be.
If the mainstream media will not speak of their hallowed status then I sure-
as-hell will! There is much about Black women’s attitude which is often quite repugnant…I get that.
But only a liar, a fool or a blind man would deny them (and all Black women) their true status as the world’s most astonishingly beautiful women.
So yeah…the record maybe scratched
but I’ll keep right on playing it!
JOOO fight /CRUSH THIS white standard of beauty for us and all this bleaching/whitening of the race and HAVE A BLACK STANDARD OF BEAUTY BASED ON THE BLACKEST SKINNED BEAUTY AND by Celebrating the Blackest beauty like the white boy celebrates the ugly white/girl/no/lips/no/hips/no/nose/no/ass/no/color as beautiful! Everywhere you go salute these Blackest Beauties and let them know that they are the most beautiful ! Put them back on top of the Beauty Pyramid like God did in the beginning!
BLACK SKINNED BEAUTY SERENA WILLIAMS OOOOO!SERENA OOO!—A STRONG BLACK MAN LOVES YOU OOO!-ANDRE L..HOLMES OOO!-Don’t Marry that white boy OOO!-WE ARE PRAYING FOR YOU AND VENUS!!-GOD WILL GIVE GREAT BLACK MEN WHO APPRECIATE YOUR BLACKEST BEAUTY OOOOO!-From Facebook
DR. BAYO ADEBOWALE
HONOUR FOR A PROPHET
IN HIS HOMELAND!
Bayo Adebowale,the accomplished African Novelist and Poet will on Saturday,4th March 2017 be honoured with the prestigeous Chieftaincy title of ONIGEGE ARA OF IGBO-ELERIN by the Igbo-Elerin Council of Baales. This is a well-deserved honour coming from the Literary Icon’s kith and kin….
What a feat!
Congratulations, author of The Virgin, Out Of His Mind,Lonely Days, A New Life, Talent, African Melody, Oriki,Village Harvest, and A Night of Incantations!
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!