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Adji Sarr is the name of the woman who ignited one of the biggest and deadliest sets of protests in Senegal’s modern history. She reported being raped by famed politician Ousman Sonko, who frequented the massage parlor she worked at. He was arrested while on his way to court to answer to the rape allegations. There are now thousands of people across the streets of Senegal chanting his name, not Adji’s. They demanded his immediate release, not justice for Adji. Adji and her family have since received death threats and she is in hiding as her trauma bleeds into political…


To say my relationship with The Gambia is complex would be an understatement. Ours is a love story, besieged with the guilt of leaving, gratitude for leaving, and unsaid goodbyes…


Beyonce’s visual album Black is king

A few days ago, Beyoncé shared the upcoming release of her new visual album, Black is King. A one-minute trailer of the film accompanied the press release introducing her new project to the world. Almost immediately after the release of the trailer, Twitter among other social media platforms went wild with commentary about the forthcoming film. While many people expressed the hallmark beyhive admiration and excitement for Beyoncé’s latest body of work, many others had serious critiques about the images in the trailer.

The most prominent of these critiques came from those who found the depiction of Africa and African…


When did you fall in love with your complexion?

For me, it was somewhere between hearing “Burnt toast” for the first time and realizing that it wasn’t another affliction of American English.

But rather, a troubled boy’s poetic description of my skin.

Musu koyo: sasa borro.

Fair woman: the cure to the ailment.

Koyo damma mu nyina leti.

Fairness alone is beauty.

Lullabies a fair mother sang to her dark daughter.

When did you fall in love with your complexion?

For me, it was somewhere along the crossroads of a generation of bleached beauties and their defiantly dark daughters.


Searching for your beauty in his eyes

His gaze

A dissatisfied mirror

Your eyes

A black hole of doubt and insecurities

Stop searching his eyes in hopes of finding yourself

The space between his compliments and affirmation is not your place of residence

Stop building a home there


Surrender

This war has gone on for far too long

Weapons of guilt and shame

Arrows of societal standards

Grenades of augments, angles, and filters

Playthings of the male gaze

Walk away from this battle

Surrender

To your divinity

Sit on your throne and tend to your wounds

Haddy Jatou

Musings of a Gambian Feminist existing in predominantly Western, White and Male spaces…

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