My Black is . . .


Chocolaty or caramel,

maybe mixed with vanilla; skin like buttercream.


Crowned in glory, thick & luscious; see, my hair is such a diva.

It glows with every ounce of love, yet with a mind of its own.


My clothes also speak, and can shut it down when I walk in

My Ankara[i] lights up the room, and my Ileke[ii] reminds you that I am royalty;

I told you, my clothes have a language. A language you recognize when you see me


The sound of the Gungun[iii]; my drum talks, it speaks a language your body responds to

& I am a life of the party because my dance attracts you.

You want to learn it, and can see my face expand with joy as I teach you


... and when I am in love, my language describes feelings words can’t explain;

it allows you to go into the depths of your highs, and bury yourself in its goodness,


My caramel skin, maybe it’s chocolaty, maybe it’s mixed with vanilla;

It is part of my identity; It is part of who I am.


Drawing by: Arthur Odeka . Instagram: toden09



Abi Tobi








[i] Ankara is a fabric with African prints

[ii] Ileke is a Yoruba word (Nigerian) used to describe African Beads which are worn at most African events

[iii] Gungun is a Yoruba drum popular known as a The Talking Drum; which is a musical instrument. Popular in parts of West Africa such as Nigeria, Cameroon, Ghana, and so on.

98 views

Recent Posts

See All

After Math

Emotional damage is something we do not talk about and I wonder why. Actually, I do not wonder. The shame forces your mouth shut The shame of admitting that you are no longer whole, The humiliation th

© 2018 by Abi Sanni