"Hello everyone! I want to share a very special message with you guys today. But before I do that, I would like to tell you the story of a child, who always stood out in any crowd because of a feature that she despised about herself. A child who cried herself to sleep most nights, asking God to break her irreversible curse.

This story revolves around a sensitive issue and is quite negative. Some of you — or perhaps most of you would not be able to relate to it. You might even think that I am just making the whole thing up. But trust me, it's a true story. And please, please, don't shut your ears. Listen to what I say carefully, for it's a real social issue that deserves our attention.

So, the story dates back some twenty plus years. A very cheerful, six-year old child was playing with her sister at a family gathering, when a relative walked up to them and addressed her sister as "vellakaari", a Tamil term that translates to 'white woman'. While the little girl smiled and waited for her turn to be called the same, the relative did not do it. She simply walked away, leaving the little girl disappointed.

Now, this child who did not understand why the relative treated her differently, started looking for answers by comparing herself to the sister. Oh and that was the moment she realized, though they were from the same family, they had very different skin tones! And for the first time, the thought that being fair-skinned means you get attention while being dark-skinned means you get ignored, crept into her mind.

That night after going home, she questioned her mother about it, looking for clarifications. But her mother for some reason avoided the conversation, which made her feel perhaps it was a shameful topic that should not to be addressed. However, just before going to bed, she raised her hands and prayed to God, asking Him to make her skin tone lighter like that of her sister's.

Years passed and the little girl's prayers did not stop. Neither did God change anything about her color. The more she heard people talk about skin tones, the more she grew frustrated with the way she looked.

She soon realized the preference for fair skin and discrimination was not just something that happened within the family circle but at school too. One of her classmates so randomly told her one day, "you are very black noh." The remark broke her heart but she could not do anything about it.

Even the teachers at school paid extra attention to the fair-skinned girls in her class and ignored her most of the time, until she started excelling in her studies. With her impressive academic performance, she was able to get a few words of praise, but her longing for lighter skin never seemed to end.

She often daydreamed of God responding to her prayers by giving her the option of either choosing intelligence or lighter skin tone to live with for the rest of her life, and in her fantasy she always chose the latter. But in reality, God never gave her a chance to repair this one thing that she despised about herself!

As a teenager, things only got worse. While all her lighter-skinned classmates and even her sister drew a lot of attention from the boys in town, she received none. She soon started believing perhaps fair meant beautiful and dark meant ugly, because after all, even the popular advertisement that she watched on TV said "fair & lovely" and never "dark & lovely".

In an attempt to change things herself, she started using all sorts of fairness creams recommended by her relatives, and even searched on the internet for home remedies for fair skin. But unfortunately, none of it seemed to work on her. Her skin was dark as ever. In fact, it only got darker with time, and wherever she went, she was the darkest person in a group.

She tried to hide her inferiority complex and wanted to pretend like everything was fine with her, but the society never let her do it. Every time she went out with her family, people gasped and told her mother or sister, "Can't believe she is related to you. She is very dark noh."

She was often given free advice on the color of clothing she should wear — vibrant colors like yellow were always suggested for her fair-skinned sister while she was asked to resort to the darker shades.

When she reached the age of marriage, a whole new problem erupted — grooms only expected fair-skinned brides. Though she was able to utilize her intelligence and hard work to change her fate to some extent in her professional life, marriage was something that demanded only beauty and not brains. Every proposal rejected her on the basis of her skin tone and her family was devastated.

She started feeling like no matter what she did, where she went or who she met — there was one thing constant about her life and that was — she was never enough! She was never enough because of a natural feature that she had no control over. She was never enough because she could not fit the definitions or standards of beauty set by the society she lived in.

And this girl, ladies and gentlemen, is none other than me. I am Ilhaam, a twenty-five year old, who fell victim to colorism when I was just six and continued to grow up to be an adult with unending insecurities.

For those of you, who are not familiar with this topic, the dictionary definition of colorism goes like this — a prejudice or discrimination against individuals with a dark skin tone, typically among people of the same ethnic or racial group. Or as Kenyan actress Lupita says, colorism is the daughter of racism.

So, why am I talking about colorism and how does it even relate to mental health? Why am I making something so small sound like such a huge deal? I mean, we live in a country that celebrates diversity, right? A large part of our population is dark-skinned, yet we don't see them all cry over it, do we? Perhaps I'm just overthinking. Ladies and gentleman, if these are your thoughts as I speak, I'm sorry but I have to burst your bubble, and tell you that colorism is alive and well, taking a toll on many people's lives.

The only reason why you haven't heard many people talk about it is because the victims are always hushed with the "it's all in your head" statement. Maybe you are partially right. Maybe it's in our heads. But the bigger question is — who actually put the thought in our heads in the first place and watered it on a regular basis, giving us enough reasons to develop persistent emotional stress?

Now, if you tell me that people face bigger problems in life than colorism — I will completely agree with you. But isn't it just sad that on top of all the usual problems people face in their lifetime, dark-skinned souls like me have to carry the extra burden of our unaccepted skin tone too?

Being dark-skinned, we have to work extra hard for things that others with lighter skin tones get easily. Security checks at places like airports are higher for us. Most of us get easily judged as ruffians before people even strike up a conversation with us.

I guess, the obsession with fair skin and the dislike for dark skin is created and endorsed mainly by TV and books. From childhood fairytales to modern day movies, everything has main roles played by people with extremely fair and beautiful skin, while the antagonistic roles are given to dark-skinned people. So, growing up with these things, we are conditioned to think that lighter skin is superior to dark skin.

Sometimes, without even intending to be hurtful, we make colorist remarks, like:
"Don't go out in the sun, you will become dark"
"Even though you are dark, you are good-looking"
"I've met people who are darker than you. You are so much better than them."
I'm sure these lines sound familiar, and you would've heard or used them at least once in your life. I have certainly experienced it all.

My family often tries to comfort me using some of these lines. In their minds, they think they are complimenting me. And trust me guys, they love me. They absolutely love me! But what they don't understand is that, a backhanded compliment can never make me happy. I mean, why can't I just be pretty? Why do I always have to be 'pretty—for a dark-skinned girl'? Saying that itself is so derogatory!

For years, things have been happening a certain way in our society and that's why colorism is still thriving. I'm just one of the millions of people who are constantly discriminated on the grounds of skin tone. Dark-skinned children's and adults' mental health get affected all the time by these hurtful comments and unfair situations, that we as a society put them in. You and I are equally responsible for what's happening. It's time for change guys! Let's break the chain.

The first step is to admit that colorism exists. No more denying. No more hushing . The next time someone tries to talk about it, please don't be the one to say "it's all in your head". Listen to them. Tell them how awesome they are without having to use the words "for a dark-skinned person". And if you ever happen to witness someone getting bullied for their skin tone, please be the one to stand up against it, regardless of who the person is.

It took me twenty-five years to accept myself the way I am. I absolutely love my skin tone now! There's not a thing that I want to change about it! To hell with Snow White — today I'm proud of embracing my uniqueness as the Brownest Of All Time!

Please share this message with at least one person you know. It might help bring about some change. Thanks for being a wonderful audience!

Umm...also, just before I leave, I'd like to remind you that I run a marketing agency. If you ever need marketing services, please feel free to contact me."

Phew! It's over! I can finally breathe. That was quite an impressive speech, wasn't it? I mean, for most parts of it I faked my confidence, but hey, when you are on stage you are supposed to do that, okay? And I do think people liked it, because all what I can see and hear right now are claps from the audience.

Wonder what they thought about that last self-advertising part though! It's funny how I started the speech as an activist and ended it like a salesperson. But it's okay. It's not like I am going to get a chance to speak in front of a large audience every day of my life, right? So, I have to shoot my shot when I get it.

I smile and walk off the stage when Amer comes and says, "Proud of you, Ilhaam! You did a great job." Awww sweet Amer! First, he gives me an opportunity and now he gives me compliments too! I absolutely adore him! "Thanks so much" I say with a wide smile.

Looks like it's break time. People are moving around. I pull a chair and sit. I unlock my phone and start messaging Salima, when I hear someone say, "Beautiful speech. You absolutely nailed it." It's a man's voice but definitely not familiar.

I raise my head to find a guy who I've never met before, standing in front of me. I mean, obviously I haven't met any of these 200 people who joined the event today. But this one cannot be part of the audience because he is wearing the therapy center's ID card just as I am, which means he is Amer's staff. But how come I've never seen him at the center before? Perhaps he is another guest speaker like me.

"Umm—uh—" I stammer as I try to speak. What the hell Ilhaam? Just say thank you! That's what I am supposed to say. For a person who spoke on stage about a taboo topic for 10 minutes, why is it so hard for me to reply to this unknown dude in two words?

Oh wait, is it his perfect jawline that's making me uncomfortable to speak? Ewww Ilhaam! I can't just get besotted by someone's jawline and forget my words, right? I mean, I must admit that this dude is very good-looking but he also looks kind of funny because of his face and neck being of the same size. And his infectious smile is just— wait, what's wrong with me? Why am I describing this dude's features to myself?

I guess this is what happens when you completely stop talking to men for six months, after a breakup. I mean, besides Amer, Saad, James, boomers and the men in my family, I honestly haven't spoken to any other male over the past few months. Have I developed selective mutism like Raj from The Big Bang Theory? Oh crap!

I try my hardest and finally say, "Thanks. You are?" He smiles and says, "I'm Zayan." Without stammering I manage to reply, "Great. I'm Ilhaam."

"I know. You mentioned earlier on stage" says Zayan with his sweet smile. Of course I did, right? Why did I have to repeat my name to him? I just smile awkwardly when Zayan says, "Seriously, what you did there was amazing. I loved it."

"Haha! Glad to know that you liked it, even though you couldn't have related to any of it" I say with a smirk. I mean, this dude's skin tone is somewhere in between fair and tan — I'm not sure which one. I look at his face and all I can notice is the jawline. Mesmerizing!

"Well, I guess that's the beauty of it. You explained it in such a way that anyone could've felt the emotions behind it. Also, as an Asian, you are somehow identified as 'brown' despite your skin tone and there are always a few things that you face when you live amongst the whites, right?" says Zayan. Okay, now he's just bluffing. There is no way he has ever faced colorism. What he is talking about has more to do with racism. But I don't think even racism could affect a person like him. Maybe he is just pitying me after listening to my story. You don't have to dude. I love myself now!

I say, "Whatever! So, you are a guest speaker, too?" Okay, now I feel like I'm overexcited and talking more than necessary. I could've just kept quite. Why am I asking question after question, as if I'm an extrovert?

"No, I am just sponsoring for the event and I know Amer" says Zayan. Well, that's an unexpected answer. I thought Amer organized events on his own.

I just smile and Zayan says, "Hey, you said you run a marketing agency, right? I'd like to see some of the work you've done for your clients. I might need your services." Without giving much thought, I say, "You can check my Instagram. I share about my projects there. My ID is talktoilhaam." Wait, what? Did I just ask a guy who I met a few minutes ago to connect with me on Instagram, even if it's for official purposes? How stupid and desperate can I be? I tell you, it's the jawline making me act crazy!

"Oh no, I'm a little old school. I don't use Instagram. Can you email me instead?" asks Zayan, making this conversation weirder. A person who doesn't use Instagram? Do such people even exist? I mean, he is not a boomer. He looks like someone in his late twenties or early thirties. I guess, he is just lying to indirectly say that he is not interested in connecting with me on socials. I deserve this for my disgusting behavior!

—————————————————-
—————————————————-
So the first part of this chapter was more like a personal rant. Some of you might have felt it's kind of unnecessary to include the entire speech, but I had to do it because somehow colorism is the main theme of the story and it has to be spoken about 😬🙏🏾
Let me know your thoughts about Zayan by the way 😛♥️

Please search for @BIGMADEBROWNIE on Instagram & Facebook and follow me to enjoy short meme-like posts and updates about the story 🥰🙏🏾