Put that camera down.
It won’t be able to capture the true essence of my skin.
I don’t need abundant light or filters in order to glow.
I’m a warm summer’s night, my skin is the darkness,
My eyes are the moon and my teeth are the stars.
I’m proud to wear this melanin-rich skin.

My skin brings you closer to your ancestors.
It causes you to ululate and shout out your family praises.
It reminds you of the dark fertile African soil
That has fed our people for generations.
My skin is history, my skin is coated with memories.

If you look at it long enough, you’ll find yourself as a child,
Surrounded by loved ones braaing mealies near the kraal.
Look at me and remember the cold mornings going to the river to fetch water.
Someone has been telling you my skin is not beautiful,
They have been telling you of the impurities it holds.

My dark skin has no impurities, it has no secrets.
Like the African soil under my skin lies a heart of gold.
I dare say, put that camera down.
It won’t be able to capture the true essence of my skin.