Written by an inspiring & talented young woman who I’ve had the great privilege to call my friend here in Tamale.
Here’s to an issue that has no geographical boundaries or racial preferences –
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My legs will stretch out from underneath my dress with no apology.
My hips will curve out like a neat bottle of cola and exist with no apology.
Mascara may sometimes decorate my lashes and my eyes will occasionally dress up. But they will appear with no apology.
My hair will carelessly fall over my shoulders, be whipped back into a bun, be twirled into a twist at the nape of my neck. My hair will be what it wants to be without any apology.
When I stepped into your office, I was welcomed by the usual cheer of both you and your colleagues. But something quickly changed. You, and him, and him, were examining me with a string of thoughts; a brief wondering about the ways, tastes, and textures of foreign flesh. I could read…
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Be the change 