They Make me Hate my Type

By Hakeem Babalola

They gave me their religion to suppress mine. Theirs I must worship, mine I must derogate. Everything about me is considered inferior. I am too black, I do not have pointed nose, I speak in vernacular, I wear Ibo made. They kill me, they murder my form. Look at my sister. She’d rather die than leave her identity - her hair - authentic. With the help of my forefathers, they plant inferiority complex in my psyche, and it’s smoothly pass on to my child. I am gradually annihilating my type. read more