Cheering the black woman on

It is a blessing to be a black woman. Dark-skinned women should embrace their ‘tint’ and celebrate it without having to tone it down with skin lighteners to conform to the misguided perception that light is beautiful and dark is ugly. But then again, there are naturally light-skinned black women.

Today, I am celebrating the black woman who understands that black doesn’t crack, the woman who can step out of the house without foundation, mascara or a concealer, but still confidently do her thing with a smile. I am toasting to the woman who is comfortable in her skin.

There is something special about being a black woman. A black woman is a strong woman, one who can endure it all without losing her composure. Now that’s what we call beauty.  We were created perfectly. Just as our skins can withstand the harsh heat of the scorching sun, so can we face sexist, chauvinistic discrimination and traditional bias. Yet, we still remain resilient and refuse to be lesser humans. Some women will give all and pay whatever amount to have but a hint of the sexy curves and perky lips that we effortless flaunt as black women and almost take for granted.

I take my hat off to single mothers, women who, against all odds, valued life and kept their pregnancies. They endured ridicule and shame and continue to work hard for their children. They are not only mothers, but their children’s fathers as well, since the deadbeat dads took to the hills.

I toast all women who have the balls to run for political office, the temerity to stand up to men, and even beat them to those positions. While men flex financial muscles, bravado and demean us for political mileage, a female candidate often has her word and principles as her bond.

I am sending a shout out to married women who stand by their men for better or worse. They may be married to ungrateful creatures whom they got with nothing to their names, but became abusive and drunken womanisers the moment they made a few cents. Yet the black woman sticks and protects the family, no wonder, it’s hard to hear of a black woman in her sixth marriage.

And to the single woman, enough respect my dear. It is not easy being a single black woman, especially if you are 30 years or older. Just because someone is unhappily married, they should not assume you are not happily single. Ignore the insults about your marital status and just do you.

If you are opinionated, they will describe you as bitter, frustrated and angry at the world. If you’re a go-getter who is not afraid to face the world, they will label you a desperate whore.

I will also gotea the woman in the village who wakes up early to attend to the farm with a baby strapped on her back. After the farm, she fetches water from the river, rummages for firewood and then rushes home to prepare a meal for the lazy bum of a husband.

And to the woman who hawks on the streets just so her babies can have something in their tummies, you deserve a gold medal. But I have nothing flattering to say for the so-called feminist, not until she speaks for women in rural villages and slums. The feminist must prove that she’s more than a liberated loudmouth. When a politician batters his wife, these ‘enlightened’ women will be on a warpath, but wouldn’t as much as bat their fake lashes when girls in the villages are sexually molested and abused. Our female politicians should mentor the next generation of women to continue the good fight. Women should protect their own and stop vilifying each other. Yes, we should reprimand each other when we stray, but we should also support our causes. We are first women, everything else are details.

We can make the world a better place, so go on and reach out to your fellow woman and celebrate her.