I hid my afro,

I buried it beneath train tracks

And rode across it with a needle and thread,

I’d call it protection

But wish it dead,

Straighter than the parallel lines

That ran from my forehead

To the base of my neck,

I hid my afro,

Packed its bags and waved it

Away from the African shores,

My passport has no stamps

And yet, my hair has travelled across the seas and more,

To Brazil, Malaysia, India and Peru,

All in a bid to be more attractive to you,

I hid my afro,

Banished my curls

Beneath the roots of another,

In search of the eyes that behold,

Yet beauty I’m told could not be found

On the head of a queen

With eyes dark, and melanin rosy on her cheeks

I hid my afro,

Stripped the Blackness from my scalp

And bled

Until the roots of Africa ran river red,

Myself I denied

It was myself I hid

When I rebuked my afro,

Their words on my lips,

I hid my afro,

They injected their hatred into my veins,

Transfused until distain was all that remained,

Until it was no longer I that I absorbed in my reflection

But their ideal of beauty, my projection,

I hid my afro,

Biggest mistake I ever made,

For they loved me no more when whitened with relaxer

And laying Blackness in her grave,

But, be yourself they now say,

Love yourself, it’s true,

Still, who must I be to be loved by you?