"A Black Girl Short Story" -Lulu

"A Black Girl Short Story" -Lulu

Growing up in a country like South Africa, where xenophobia is at an absolute high, the option to not know what racism is was non existent. From a very young age, south africans worked their very hardest to prove to me and my family that we were absolutely nothing like them. That we were unjust in the way we came to a foreign country, and dared to build a life. With every other xenophobic killing, the justification was "well you should have stayed in your country" and i always wondered what would have happened if my parents decided to stay in their home land of Somalia. Soon enough I came to the realization that I probably wouldn't have even existed if they hadn't left, they'd probably be killed in the civil war themselves. In a world where the one place you could dare call home, could cost you your life, where do you run to? Where do you even go?

 After years of living in fear, the United Nations decided to give my family an opportunity to come to America. Gone were the days of unjustified killings of people because of something as ignorant as their backgrounds. Or so I thought... Here i am 5 years later, protesting and fighting for something I've yearned for my entire existence. Acceptance. Acceptance in my own skin, acceptance in my own country, acceptance in my own continent. It seems like no matter where I go in this world, I can't escape the violence, I can't escape the hate. It went from my own people killing each other due to tribal disputes, went on to other africans killing us for running from danger, to now, the people who claim to protect and serve taking innocent lives based on skin color, which just so happens to be MY skin color. Was I born to fail? Was I born in this skin to face the hardships that many never even think about? How is it that something I had absolutely no control over gets so much control over my life? They asked a group of white people would they trade their skins in for a more melanin one, of course the answer was hell no. But ask me would I trade my skin for a white person's? Hell yes. For that privilege? For that ignorance? For those opportunities? HELL YES. 


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  • Stephanie on

    Thank you for sharing your story. I love you. I love you so much. This blog loves you. You are no failure and never will be. You are worthy and deserving of peace and love. Always. I’m sorry you had to and have to go through so much for just living and being you. I see you, I hear you, I stand with you.

  • Lid on

    I love you ❤️

  • Mo Bermel on

    Thank you for sharing your story. It is important for us to hear this.

  • Melanie Oquendo on

    I am so very sorry for all the hate you’ve experienced. I see you, I hear you, I stand with you. ❤️

  • Melanie Oquendo on

    I am so very sorry for all the hate you’ve experienced. I see you, I hear you, I stand with you. ❤️


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