When A Woman Calls You Beautiful

A poem for me and my mother 

The first woman who called me beautiful
Said to me:
“You are black beauty”
“You will be Miss Kenya”
“You are fearfully and wonderfully made”

I hated my dark skin
I was too dark to be beautiful
God forgot me in the oven you see.

They told me I looked like my mother
They called her beautiful
They never called me beautiful 

-

Today, a woman called me beautiful
She turned to me in a crowd
Said to me:
“You are beautiful”

See when a woman calls you beautiful
It doesn’t matter if he’ll ever notice you
Or if they’ll care to see you
As more than dark skin

When a woman calls you beautiful
You remember the first woman who called you beautiful
Your Mother. My Mother.
She called me beautiful.

I am black.
I am beautiful.

Interlude

God
I now know more than ever that there is a family of believers around the world. I thought I had known this, more like a truth resting at the back of my mind, but again, something happens when you meet someone who goes through the same challenges as you, and they look up to God with such fervency that you are blown away by your little faith. I am overjoyed to know that despite how much this world constantly changes, how young people continue to wallow in godlessness, that some will still stand strong and represent You in this life. And this indeed is my prayer. Of course I know it’s not easy, but You would never give us more than we can handle, and after all, Your strength is made perfect in our weakness. Thank You for all that You have been to me all these years, to have come this far again, it’s only been by Your Grace. I am indebted to You.