Entry #2: Epiphany

If you own a computer or a smartphone and an internet service, you’ve probably seen the “Sara ElHassan – Video Response”.

Now, like most of you, by the end of the video I was screaming “YASSSS” at the top of my lungs and ready to remake the clip into a Beyonce video. But then a few days passed, allowing the reality of it to percolate into my brain and I was beset with sadness.

More so, I was angry. Angry for her anger. Angry that the things she said still have to be said.

The video also opened my eyes to the fact that unless you fit a certain mold, you can never be comfortable with how you look in Sudan. A mold that most of the time, contradicts the African nature of our features.

While the aim is to teach girls that their worth is not and will never be in outside approval, the fact remains that the biggest enemy of the dark-skinned Sudanese girl’s self esteem is the Sudanese society itself.

How you ask?

Well, between advertisements projecting images of sad, dark-skinned girls suddenly finding happiness upon using the advertised skin-lightening product, and the general media mainly representing European features, the self esteem of a Sudanese girl is already as easy to maintain as straightened hair in the middle of Summer.

But when you add to it the hate voiced by people of her own race, it becomes impossible to maintain (think: straightened hair in Autumn).

Sudanese men and women alike express hate towards African features, having only negative words to describe the full lips, wide nose, tightly-curled hair and dark brown skin that came with the African land we live in and the African air we breathe.

We, as a society, are brainwashed to think that unless the features of a face are Eurocentric, they are ugly. Little girls are told that they “would be pretty if they had lighter skin”, they are made fun of for having full lips. From the age of 9, all a dark-skinned female wants to do is clean off the brown in her, because she is convinced that brown is ugly, that brown is dirty.

Sudanese girls are most uncomfortable for looking African, in their African country.

How does that make you feel?

Entry #1: A tired topic I’m tired of.

As a community, we value each other.

We value each other so much to the point where we let each other’s opinions dictate our way of life.

Introducing: “kalam alnas“.

If you’re a Sudanese person, you’ve heard this phrase a lot.

If you’re a Sudanese woman, you’ve heard this phrase way too much.

And if you’re a Sudanese anything, you’re inevitably and most unfortunately, going to use this phrase at some point of your life.

Where does it apply? Everywhere. It’s the test everything you do has to pass through, it’s the decider of who you associate with, where you go and how you dress.

It’s inescapable. Wherever you go in this vast African paradise, you’ll see nothing but the four walls of “kalam alnas” staring at you, as you stare back in helpless dis-contempt.

Now, let’s imagine something else dictated what you do. Perhaps the religion the majority of the nation prides itself on carrying or a moral code of some sort. Imagine if before anyone did anything they asked themselves “Is this action moral?”, “Will this please my God?” or even “Am I comfortable with doing this?”.

Will everyone be free to do what they want? No. Sadly, restriction is a part of life, and you will always be restricted in some way. But it all comes down to what you’re letting restrict you and if it’s worth it.

And I’d rather be restricted by something bigger than a four-inch tongue in a stranger’s mouth.