What makes me initially uneasy about Lupita Nyong’o’s Kids Book
I love Lupita Nyong’o and all she represents. She is a beautiful woman and a positive role model. Her influence transcends race. I gasp with admiration and positive anticipation whenever her images pop up in the news and on social media.
Her dark, unblemished, tamarind-coloured skin glows like polished ebony and emanates royalty. Her natural hairstyles are stunning and defeat any argument posed about the inelegance of black natural, woolly hair. Her smile is infectious and manifests that she is unpretentious, humble and does not seem to take herself too seriously, in spite of all that she has accomplished.
I raged when her character, Patsey, was brutalised, beaten and raped in the film “12 Years a Slave”. Yes it was just a portrayal of a story that had to be told, but this was not fiction. Had this gem been born in that era, her dark skin and beauty would have made her hunted by men battling with demons of lust and power. They found her beautiful but it went unsaid. Instead she was treated like the beast. My heart didn’t break for her alone, but for women and girls watching those scenes and recognising how narrow in time was their escape.
Then came Marvel, Black Panther and her portrayal of the warrior, Nakia. This was a complete turnaround of character from the defeated, tortured figure in her previous role. Here she is fierce, powerful, contoured and armoured. She is respected and feared, carrying weapons and not to be trifled with. Her bantu knots complete an image of authenticity and strength, as though the directors, writers and costume designers shaped the role with her in mind.
Pride restored and elevated. Like so many, I feel as though Lupita is a friend and sister. If she sat next to me, I’d start talking to her as though we were catching up. When it became apparent that my then 5-year old daughter faced questions about beauty, colour and race, Lupita’s pictures were the first images we showed her. She even came before the likes of Halle Berry, Beyonce and Rihanna. (I wrote about this here: “From fairy tales to magazines — the beauty lessons we teach our children” and “How reading Bedtime Stories led me to Writing Diverse Stories”)
When I saw the news of Lupita’s upcoming book called “Sulwe” pop up in Twitter at 15:04 on 18th Jan 2018, I jumped with excitement. I was on it and ready to re-tweet like a machine.
Here was our girl about to disrupt the world again in the form of children’s literaure. She would influence those leading and lighting the world in the future, with a book aptly titled “Sulwe”, which means “Star” in her native language Luo.
“Sulwe,” which means “star” in Ms. Nyong’o’s native language, Luo, is the story of a 5-year-old girl growing up in Kenya. In the book, Sulwe has the darkest skin color in her family, a fact that makes her uncomfortable and determined to find a way to lighten her skin. As the story unfolds Sulwe embarks on a whimsical adventure in the night sky that, coupled with advice from her mother, helps her see beauty differently.
But my enthusiasm sank when I read the synopsis. It resembled the stories I refused to read to my daughter, as it carried the narrative of struggle, dissatisfaction and challenge surrounding beauty and acceptance. Beauty is without question in the Euro-classics such as Snow White, Cinderella and, even by name, Beauty and the Beast. Why then do so many stories featuring black girls tend to carry the subtle message that “you TOO are beautiful”, like some form of consolation? Yes, it is inner beauty, virtuosity and character that matter most, but we cannot deny the empowerment of confidence in appearance and assurance of attraction.
Why then do so many stories featuring black girls tend to carry the subtle message that “you TOO are beautiful,” like some form of consolation?
I know Sulwe will be a hit. I want it to be a bestseller. I know this story is precious and important to get out there. I know it will be a work of beauty shaped and moulded in the image of its author. However, I want to see more stories featuring black girls and boys, where beauty is the start of the journey and not the destination. What does the rest of the world think?
