Why Does My Skin Colour Upset You? By: Michael Bobby Obodo, Jr.

Lately, I have sincerely been asking God what is wrong with my black skin. I have waited for a direct answer or at least a sign/clue as to what the problem is, but have not yet gotten an answer. I ask him so that I can immediately stop blaming and getting upset at other races for the over six hundred years (this is in modern history) of oppression and suppression and enslavement that have been meted out on my skin color.  Those who have not been continuously and steadily undermined and regarded, almost, as less than human, may not or will never understand what it feels to have my (black) skin color.

I have got some facts to state and questions to ask you:

If I am that evil and subservient, how come I have and continue to dominate every major sporting event on earth- boxing, running, football, soccer, basketball, and the list goes on? How come it feels like there is a spirit that follows the melody that comes from the many sounds I possess, when I sing (for example, play my Nigerian, African-American Rhythm and Blues or South African song, and you are instantly connected to an atmosphere of untold emotion that is unexplainable- even if you do not understand the language)? How come I still open our arms wide and try to be good friends with you? How come I still allow you to come to my lands and scoop my abundant natural resources? How come whenever you are getting robbed or assaulted, if I am the first person to witness it, I waste no time in stepping in to help? How come I am not credited or showcased for my academic achievements and excellences?

There is a profound reason why many women of other race openly or secretly seek for an encounter with me. No joke. If the socio-economic system were at a level playing field, I am sure I would probably have all the women in the world I desired. Yes, I said it. Others, who have been humiliated at one point in history- like the Jews- have been compensated and given reparations. I have not. And, frankly speaking, I do not care about it, anyways. Just thank me for giving you the magnificent arts and architectures you started your civilization and development with.

You forcefully enslaved me, yet I still volunteer to go to war and fight side-by-side with you against your ‘enemies’- from the American and French Revolution, till date.  You would think that, with all of these, my little flaws (which all humans possess) would be overlooked, and, instead, appreciated for my outstanding attributes and contributions to the human race. Are you intentionally trying to be ignorant of the fact that Africa (where all comes from) is the cradle of civilization? Do you know how humiliating and painful it is to be implicitly pressured to conform to your behaviour and lifestyle, just because I can tell from a mile away that my judgement started once I came in your presence? You know, if you took the time to get know me, and allow me to be myself, it would not take long before you realize that I am that brother and/or sister you wished you had- a ride-or-die companion to the core.

I just want to be accepted and seen as human anywhere I choose to call home in this world. Continuous thoughts of the problem with my skin color, hurts me deeply. The hurt is turning to pain; the pain, to anger. I do not wish this feeling on my worst enemy. I am not asking you to like/love me. I am demanding that you must respect me! And, by the way, I think I know what the problem is with my skin color: It is you.

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The problem is not your colour but yourself.


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