ME AND MY BROWN SKIN

I asked God if it was a sin
To be born with a black skin
To have a protection from the burning rays of the sun called Melanin
Because everyday I see
Sisters buying products to become brown free
Apparently,
Sold complexion is everything
To the 21st century woman than loyalty
Everyday I see
A stranger honored more in my own country than me

I asked God if it was a test
To be born so different from the rest
To have more scars buried in my chest
While my quest
For justice has barely begun
How can one compete with a barrel of a gun
Pointed at their head since they were very young
Living by and by as the praise is sang
'O hail the white man who made spoons and pans'
Forgetting that the steel was forged by their own hands.

I asked God if it was a mistake
To be born in such a state
Of rejection from other races
A misfit
Out solving cases
Out changing places
Because no one suspects the man with an accent
To be the perpetrator of an accident
Excuse my sharp tongue, but tell me if you ever saw
A foreigner being charged for breaking the law
Not in this country brother, so I do wonder
If it is the knack for perfection
Or the talent for deception.

I asked God if it was maybe a gift
To be born so exceptionally unique
To be singled out in a continent that was not known to exist
With millions of treasures to handle as we see fit
but that became history after they came and made us toil
For what was ours
Separating us from our families
Hungry, but working for hours
Forced to pay tax for existence
Killed on spot if showed resistance
So I worry, all this attention
That we give so respectfully
Is it maybe pretense
Or just loaded obsession?

I asked God a lot of questions
and I know that it is wrong
but I needed direction
A sign of hope
I need salvation
To be pointed to the light
Because I want to be right
For beauty and respect seems to be something we lack
I wonder why,
Is it because we're born black?

©Zuhura Seng'enge
~ A.L 2015