Skin Deep Beauty

Shine brighter than a diamond

MARY IDOWU

Last week, I was at a "girls’ night out", and we were discussing self-confidence, I didn’t get a chance to speak due to time however, and so I have decided to come share what I learnt; my insecurities and how I overcame them.

Growing up as a child, I was always called 'Oh Mary Mary Kampala', usually in a sing song manner. This habit actually started from my nursery two class teacher. It spread fast, and a lot of people picked up the habit. I didn’t really understand what was wrong with me and why people would seek to make fun of me, as I was 'daddy’s girl' and I got all the love in the world from him. As I grew, I started seeing myself in the mirror, I started realizing that I had different skin colours on me; some part of me was yellow (which is my actual colour) and some part of me was dark, like really dark. I had brown discolorations and I had dark, more like black patches on me. I then understood that I was different. It actually didn’t bother me as such because I had my family around me and they always made me feel better.

However, upon getting into secondary school it became a big issue for me, as I was in a boarding school. A roommate relocated from my room to another because she didn’t like the way I looked. I tried every cure that was given to me, nothing worked; rather, I started getting worse. I would have sudden discolorations on my face, arms, legs, thorax that wasn’t there before and they wouldn’t leave. I started to cry a lot and felt kind of depressed. When my parents asked me why I was sad, I found it hard to tell them for reasons beyond me. I was angry. I was angry at my dad; I was angry at myself for being ‘ugly’.  I could see my parents putting effort to make me feel and look better but it wasn’t helping matters, rather it depressed me even more. I have had people call me a tiger, I have issues wearing certain outfits or even rubbing white powder. I had issues with being comfortable around girls because they would always ask questions that I couldn’t answer.

Basically, being different hurt. Asides that, I was short and skinny. I kind of grew to become average height, but I haven’t got fat. Everyone is always bugging me about my size, either jokingly or intentionally. It always hurt. So, how did/do I cope? Sometimes I like to feel like I have the solution locked down. Maybe I do, maybe not.

I, Difference

“The world needs dreamers and the world needs doers, but above all - the world needs dreamers who do.” | Sarah Breathnach

I've been witness to a lot of controversial events that have happened around me in the last month or so.

Granted, not as controversial as a lot of major things in the world might actually be, such as the killing of numerous Paris citizens by terrorists, rising of the Naira-Dollar rate to N400, or the kidnapping of a 14 year old girl from her home and family to be converted to a different religion, forcibly married and having her age falsified.

But simply the less grandiose controversies that get lost in day to day life... in the hustle and bustle of todays' modern digital and, increasingly, reality detached age. Things that bother a lot of us, most everyday. Things that need to change. Things that, if left unchecked, only grow bigger and bigger, eventually becoming - or lending a hand - to the grandiose controversies we see today.

The world we live in, today, is both better and worse than yesterdays world.