I am proudly African. I am proudly Black. Written by Taonga Jeka

Written by: Admin_SheEvo

Meet Taonga Jeka from Malawi, a creative writer, Journalism in Development communication student and a spoken word artist aged 21. This is her story…

In March this year, around 4 pm, I was walking past Mtwalo apartment in Mzuzu City, Malawi, when a car approached me. Inside, I saw Indian ladies, and one of them leaned out of the window and complimented me in Chichewa, the local language, “Sis, you look beautiful; I like your outfit,” I smiled and gave her a thumbs up. As the car drove at a distance, she shouted, “Hey, you black, you stinking, go and change your clothes!.”

I felt furious and went back to the apartment, where I found a black security guard. I told him I wanted to meet the Indian lady who had insulted me, “This is my country, and I am a freeborn citizen. I shouldn’t be disrespected because of my skin colour.” The guard apologized on her behalf and claimed she had left and that she had always been like that. I warned him that I would report her for bullying and insults next time.

That same day, I wrote a poem entitled “Am Black.”

 

I am Black

I am black, but that doesn’t mean I am worthless.

It’s just the melanin shining on me.

I wear my skin with pride,

With courage and honour.

Thoughts and strength engulf us

As pure Africans,

 

My heritage, a treasure I will hold.

I learn through pain,

Despite the rain.

I have no umbrella,

But I have hope I will be there.

 

You may take away my smile,

Judge my looks,

But I am still the rising sun.

I will still dance to the beat of my drum,

For I am free.

 

You say I smell

Because I am black,

But I am blessed.

Through the same scent, I attract.

It’s who I am.

For I am not weak,

 

And my voice will never be silenced.

Honour and respect shall follow me

As I cherish my skin with pride.

I am proudly African.

I am proudly Black.

 

~ By @Scribbler Tao Jeka 

Two days later, my university mates, beautiful black ladies, returned from their outing, looking upset and angry. Their clothes were wet with dirty water. They told me that they had been passing by Mtwalo apartment when an Indian family’s car drove towards them, splashing stagnant rainwater on them despite having enough space to pass. They followed the car to the apartment and confronted the occupants, who they believed were racist like some other Indians in the area.

My question remains, ” Is it because we are black that we have to face this torture?.”